The Heir (4 page)

“What do you mean?”

“You seem shut off in a way, disconnected from your people. I know you’re constantly worried about the demands you will face as queen, but it’s time you see the needs of others.”

“You don’t think I do that now?” Did she see what I did all day?

She pressed her lips together. “No, honey. Not if it comes before your comfort.”

I wanted to scream at her, and at Dad, too. Sure, I took shelter in long baths or a drink with dinner. I didn’t think that was too much to ask for considering what I sacrificed.

“I didn’t realize you thought I was so flawed.” I stood, turning away.

“Eadlyn, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“It is. That’s fine.” I made my way to the door. The accusation filled me with so much rage I could barely stand it.

“Eadlyn, darling, we want you to be the best queen you can be, that’s all,” she pleaded.

“I will,” I answered, one foot in the hallway. “And I certainly don’t need a boy to show me how to do that.”

I tried to calm myself before walking away. It felt like the universe was plotting against me, its arms taking turns swatting me down. I repeated in my head that it was only three months, only three months . . . until I heard someone crying.

“Are you sure?” It sounded like General Leger.

“I talked with her this morning. She decided to keep it.” Miss Lucy pulled in a jagged breath.

“Did you tell her that we could give that baby everything? That we had more money than we could ever spend? That we’d love it, no matter its faults?” General Leger’s words fell out in a whispered rush.

“All that and more,” Miss Lucy insisted. “I knew there was a huge chance of the baby being born with mental issues. I told her we’d be able to tend to any need he had, that the queen herself would see to it. She said she talked with her family, and they agreed to help her, and that she never really wanted to let the baby go in the first place. She only looked into adoption because she thought she’d be alone. She apologized, like that could fix it.”

Miss Lucy sniffed as if she was trying to quiet her sobs. I
drew close to the corner of the passage, listening

“I’m so sorry, Lucy.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault.” She said those words kindly, bravely. “I think we need to accept that it’s over. Years of treatments, so many miscarriages,
three
failed adoptions . . . we just need to let it go.”

There was a long silence before General Leger answered. “If that’s what you think is best.”

“I do,” she said, her voice sounding assertive, before she sank into tears again. “I still can’t believe I’ll never be a mother.”

A second later her cries were muffled, and I knew her husband had pulled her to his chest, trying to comfort her as best he could.

All these years I had thought the Legers had chosen to be a childless couple. Miss Lucy’s struggles had never made it into conversation when I was in the room, and she seemed content enough to play with us as children and send us on our way. I’d never considered that it might have been an unfortunate circumstance thrust on them.

Was my mother right? Was I not as observant or caring as I thought? Miss Lucy was one of my favorite people in the world. Shouldn’t I have been able to see how sad she was?

T
HIRTY-FIVE MASSIVE BASKETS SAT IN
the office, filled with what must have been tens of thousands of entries, all left in their envelopes to protect the gentlemen’s anonymity. I tried to give off an air of eager anticipation for the sake of the camera, but I felt like I might vomit into one of those baskets at any given moment.

That would be one way to narrow the pool.

Dad placed a hand on my back. “All right, Eady. Just walk to each basket and select an envelope. I’ll hold them for you so your hands don’t get full. Then we’ll open them live tonight on the
Report
. It’s that easy.”

For something so simple, it seemed incredibly daunting. Then again, I’d felt overwhelmed since we announced the Selection, so this shouldn’t have been a surprise.

I adjusted my favorite tiara and smoothed out my iridescent
gray dress. I wanted to make sure I looked positively radiant today, and when I’d checked my reflection before heading downstairs, even I was a little intimidated by the girl in the mirror.

“So I literally select each one myself?” I whispered, hoping the cameras weren’t watching too closely.

He gave me a tiny smile and spoke softly. “It’s a privilege I never had. Go ahead, love.”

“What do you mean?”

“Later. Go on now.” He gestured toward the piles and piles of entries.

I took a deep breath. I could do this. No matter what people were hoping for, I had a plan. And it was foolproof. I would walk away from this unscathed. Just a few months of my life—nothing, in the grand scheme of things—and then I’d go back to the work of becoming queen. Alone.

So why are you stalling?

Shut up.

I walked to the first basket, with a label declaring the contestants were all from Clermont. I pulled one from the side, cameras flashed, and the handful of people in the room actually applauded. Mom wrapped her arm around Ahren in excitement, and he sneakily made a face at me. Miss Marlee sighed with delight, but Miss Lucy was absent. Osten was missing, too, which was no surprise, but Kaden stood by, observing the whole thing with interest.

I used different techniques for different bins. On one, I plucked the envelope from the very top. On the next, I
buried my arm to fish out my choice. The onlookers seemed incredibly amused when I got to Carolina, Mom’s home province, picked up two envelopes, and weighed them in my hands for a few seconds before dropping one back in.

I placed the last entry in Dad’s hands, and there was more clapping and camera flashes. I gave what I hoped was an enthusiastic smile before the reporters all exited the room, off to give their exclusive stories. Ahren and Kaden left, joking as they went, and Mom gave me a quick kiss on the head before she followed them. We were speaking again but didn’t have much to say.

“You did marvelously,” Dad said once we were alone, a genuine tone of awe in his voice. “Really, I understand how nerve-racking this can feel, but you were wonderful.”

“How do you know though?” I placed my hands on my hips. “If you didn’t pick out the entries yourself?”

He swallowed. “You’ve heard the broad strokes of how your mother and I found each other. But there are tiny details that are best left in the drawer. The only reason I am telling you this is because I think it will help you to see how fortunate you are.”

I nodded, not sure where he was going.

He took a breath. “My Selection wasn’t a farce, but it wasn’t that far off. My father chose all the contestants by hand, picking young women with political alliances, influential families, or enough charm to make the entire country worship the ground they walked on. He knew he had to make it varied enough to seem legit, so there were three
Fives thrown into the mix but nothing below that. The Fives were meant to be little more than throwaways to keep anyone from being suspicious.”

I realized my mouth was gaping open and shut it immediately. “Mom?”

“Was meant to be gone almost immediately. Truth be told, she barely made it past my father’s attempts to sway my opinion or remove her himself. And look at her now.” His whole face changed. “Though it was hard for me to imagine, she is even more beloved as queen than my mother. She has made four beautiful, intelligent, strong children. And she has been the source of every happiness in my life.”

He flipped idly through the envelopes in his hands. “I’m not sure if fate or destiny is real. But I can tell you that sometimes the very thing you’ve been hoping for will walk through the door, determined to fend you off. And still, somehow, you will find that you are enough.”

Until then I’d never had a reason to doubt that I’d seen the whole picture of my parents’ love story. But between Dad’s confession that Mom wasn’t even supposed to be a choice and Mom’s revelation that she didn’t want to be a part of the choosing in the first place, I wondered how they had managed to find each other at all.

It was clear from Dad’s expression, he could barely believe it himself.

“You’re going to do great, you know?” he said, beaming proudly.

“What makes you think so?”

“You’re like your mother, and my mother, too. You’re determined. And, perhaps most important, you don’t like to fail. I know this will all work out, if only because you’ll refuse to allow it to go any other way.”

I nearly told him, nearly confessed I had come up with pages of ideas to drive these boys away. Because he was right: I didn’t want to fail. But for me, failure meant having my life led by someone else.

“I’m sure everything will turn out just as it should,” I said, a whisper of regret hanging in my voice.

He lifted a hand and placed it on my cheek. “It usually does.”

I
N THE STUDIO, THE SET
was slightly rearranged. Typically, Ahren and I were the only ones who sat on camera with my parents, but tonight Kaden and Osten were given seats onstage as well.

Dad’s officials were in a cluster of seats on the opposite side, and in the middle a bowl waited with all the envelopes I’d picked earlier. Beside it was an empty bowl for me to place them in as they were opened. I had reservations about reading out the names myself, but at least it gave the appearance of control. I liked that.

Behind the cameras, seats were filled with other members of our household. General Leger was there, kissing Miss Lucy on her forehead and whispering something to her. It had been a few days since I’d overheard their conversation, and I still felt awful for her. Of all the people in the world
who ought to be parents, it was the Legers. And of all the people in the world who ought to have the ability to fix things, it was the Schreaves.

Still, I was lost as to how to help.

Miss Marlee was shushing Josie, probably for laughing at a joke Josie made herself that lacked any level of humor. I’d never understand how someone so wonderful had birthed such awful people. My favorite tiara? The one I was wearing? It was only my favorite because Josie bent my first favorite and lost two stones out of the second. She wasn’t even supposed to touch them. Ever.

Beside her, Kile was reading a book. Because, clearly, everything going on in our country and home was too boring for him. What an ingrate.

He peeked up from his book, saw me watching, made a face, and went back to reading. Why was he even here?

“How are you feeling?” Mom was suddenly beside me, her arm around my shoulder.

“Fine.”

She smiled. “There’s no way you’re fine. This is terrifying.”

“Why, yes, yes it is. How kind of you to subject me to such a delightful thing.”

Her giggle was tentative, testing to see if we were on good terms again.

“I don’t think you’re flawed,” she said quietly. “I think you’re a thousand wonderful things. One day you’ll know what it’s like to worry for your children. And I worry for
you more than the others. You’re not just any girl, Eadlyn. You’re
the
girl. And I want everything for you.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want for us to fight right now, not with something this big coming. Her arm was still on my shoulder, so I wrapped mine around her back, and she kissed my hair, just under my tiara.

“I feel very uncomfortable,” I confessed.

“Just remember how the boys are feeling. This is huge for them as well. And the country will be so pleased.”

I concentrated on my breathing. Three months. Freedom. A piece of cake.

“I’m proud of you,” she said, giving me a final squeeze. “Good luck.”

She walked away to greet Dad, and Ahren strode toward me, smoothing out his suit. “I cannot believe this is actually happening,” he said, genuine excitement coloring his tone. “I’m really looking forward to the company.”

“What, is Kile not enough for you?” I darted my eyes at him again, and he still had his nose buried.

“I don’t know what you have against Kile. He’s really smart.”

“Is that code for boring?”

“No! But I’m excited to meet different people.”

“I’m not.” I crossed my arms, partly frustrated, partly protecting myself.

“Aww, come on, sis. This is going to be fun.” He surveyed the room and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I can only imagine what you have in store for those poor saps.”

I tried to suppress my smile, but I was anticipating watching them squirm.

He picked up one of the envelopes and bopped me on the nose with it. “Get ready now. If you have a basic grasp of the English language, you should manage this part just fine.”

“Such a pain,” I said, punching his arm. “I love you.”

“I know you do. Don’t worry. This is going to be easy.”

We were instructed to take our seats, and Ahren threw the envelope back down, taking my hand to walk me to my place. The cameras started rolling, and Dad began the
Report
with an update about an approaching trade agreement with New Asia. We worked so closely with them now, it was hard to imagine a time we were actually at war. He touched on the growing immigration laws, and all his advisers spoke, including Lady Brice. It simultaneously felt like it dragged on forever and passed in an instant.

When Gavril announced my name, it took me a second to remember exactly what I was supposed to be doing. But I stood and walked across the stage, and assumed my place in front of the microphone.

I flashed a smile and looked straight into the camera, knowing every TV in Illéa was on tonight. “I’m sure you’re all as excited as I am, so let’s skip ceremony and get right to what everyone is dying to hear. Ladies and gentlemen, here are the thirty-five young men invited to participate in this groundbreaking Selection.”

I reached into the bowl and pulled out the first envelope. “From Likely,” I read, pausing to open it, “Mr. MacKendrick Shepard.”

I held up his photograph, and the room applauded as I set it in the other bowl and moved back for the next entry.

“From Zuni . . . Mr. Winslow Fields.”

There was a smattering of applause after every name.

Holden Messenger. Kesley Timber. Hale Garner. Edwin Bishop.

It felt like I had opened at least a hundred envelopes by the time my hands reached for the final one. My cheeks hurt, and I was hoping Mom wouldn’t judge me if I skipped dinner and ate alone in my room. I really thought I’d earned it.

“Ah! From Angeles.” I ripped at the paper, pulling out the final entry. I knew my smile must have faltered, but really, it couldn’t be helped. “Mr. Kile Woodwork.”

I heard the reactions around the room. Several gasps, a handful of laughs, but, most obviously, I could hear Kile’s reaction. He dropped his book.

I pulled in a breath. “There you have it. Tomorrow, advisers will be sent out to begin prepping these thirty-five candidates for the adventure before them. And, in one short week, they will arrive at the palace. Until then, join me in congratulating them.”

I began the applause, the room followed, and I retreated to my seat, trying not to look as sick as I felt.

Kile’s name being in there shouldn’t have shaken me the way it did. At the end of the day, none of those boys stood a chance. But something about this felt wrong.

The second Gavril finished signing off, everyone erupted. Mom and Dad walked to the Woodworks. I followed right behind them, Josie’s laughter acting as a homing beacon.

“I didn’t do it!” Kile insisted. As I approached, our eyes met. I could see he was as upset as I was.

“Does that even matter?” Mom said. “Anyone of age is allowed to put his name in.”

Dad nodded. “That’s true. It’s a bit of a strange situation, but there’s nothing illegal about it.”

“But I don’t want to be a part of this.” Kile looked at Dad imploringly.

“Who put your name in?” I asked.

Kile shook his head. “I don’t know. It has to be a mistake. Why would I enter when I don’t want to compete?”

Mom’s eyes were on General Leger, and it looked almost like they were smiling. But there wasn’t anything funny about this.

“Excuse me!” I protested. “This is unacceptable. Is anyone going to do anything about it?”

“Pick someone else,” Kile offered.

General Leger shook his head. “Eadlyn announced your name in front of the country. You’re the candidate from Angeles.”

“That’s right,” Dad agreed. “Reading the names publicly makes it official. We can’t replace you.”

Kile rolled his eyes. He did that a lot. “Then Eadlyn can eliminate me the first day.”

“And send you where?” I asked. “You’re already home.”

Ahren chuckled. “Sorry,” he said, noticing our glares. “That’s not going to sit well with the others.”

“Send me away,” Kile offered, sounding thrilled.

“For the hundredth time, Kile, you’re not leaving!” Miss
Marlee said in the firmest voice I’d ever heard her use. She put her hand to her temple, and Mr. Carter wrapped an arm around her, speaking into her ear.

“You want to go somewhere else?” I asked, incredulous. “Isn’t a palace good enough for you?”

“It’s not mine,” he said, raising his voice. “And quite frankly, I’m tired of it. I’m over the rules, I’m over being a guest, and I’m so over your bratty attitude.”

I gasped as Miss Marlee thwacked her son over the head.

“Apologize!” she commanded.

Kile pressed his lips together, looking at the ground. I crossed my arms. He wasn’t leaving until I got an apology. I’d get it one way or another.

Finally, after a forceful shake of his head, he muttered it under his breath.

I looked away, hardly impressed with his efforts.

“We’ll move forward as planned,” Dad said. “This is a Selection, just like any of the others. It’s about choices. Right now, Kile is one option of many, and Eadlyn could certainly do worse.”

Thanks, Dad.
I quickly checked Kile’s expression. He was staring at the floor, seeming embarrassed and angry.

“For now I think we should all get some food and celebrate. This is a very exciting day.”

“That’s right,” General Leger agreed. “Let’s eat.”

“I’m tired,” I said, turning. “I’ll be in my room.”

I didn’t wait for approval. I didn’t owe anyone anything after tonight. I was giving them everything they wanted.