The Heir. Кира Касс
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couldn’t put the Selection to death.
“I WANT TO BE CLEAR,” I said, sitting down in Dad’s office. “I have no desire to get married.”
He nodded. “I understand that you don’t want to get married today, but it was always something you’d have to do, Eadlyn. You’re obligated to continue the royal line.”
I hated it when he talked about my future like that, like sex and love and babies weren’t happy things but duties performed to keep the country running. It took every speck of joy out of the prospect.
Of all the things in my life, shouldn’t those be the real pleasures, the best parts?
I shook the worry away and focused on the task at hand.
“I understand. And I agree that it’s important,” I replied diplomatically. “But weren’t you ever worried when you went through your Selection that no one in the pool was right for you? Or that maybe they were there for the wrong reason?”
His lips hitched up in a smile. “Every waking moment, and half the time I slept.”
He’d told me a handful of vague stories about one girl who’d been so pliable he could hardly stand her and another who had tried to manipulate the process at every turn. I didn’t know many names or details, and that was fine with me. I had never liked to imagine Dad possibly falling in love with anyone but Mom.
“And don’t you think that as the first woman to fully control the crown, there should be … some standards set for who might rule beside me?”
He tilted his head. “Go on.”
“I’m sure there’s some sort of vetting process in place to make sure an actual psychopath doesn’t make his way into the palace, yes?”
“Of course.” He grinned as if this wasn’t a valid concern.
“But I don’t trust just anyone to do this job with me. So”—I sighed deeply—“I will agree to go through with this ridiculous stunt if you make me a few tiny promises.”
“It’s not a stunt. It’s had an excellent track record. But please, dear girl, tell me what you want.”
“First, I want the contestants to have the freedom to leave of their own free will. I won’t have someone feeling obligated to stay if they don’t care for me or the life they’d have to lead in the palace.”
“I fully agree to that,” he said forcefully. Seemed like I had touched a nerve.
“Excellent. And I know you might be opposed to the idea, but if by the end of this I can’t find anyone suitable, then we call the whole thing off. No prince, no wedding.”
“Ah!” he said, leaning forward in his chair and pointing a calculating finger at me. “If I allow that, you’ll turn them all away the first day. You won’t even try!”
I paused, thinking. “What if I guaranteed you a timeline? I would keep the Selection running for, say, three months and weigh my options for at least that amount of time. After then, if I haven’t found a suitable match, all the contestants are released.”
He ran his hand across his mouth and shifted in his chair a little before pressing his eyes into mine. “Eadlyn, you know how important this is, don’t you?”
“Of course,” I replied instantly, very aware of how serious this was. I sensed one wrong move would set my life on a course I could never correct.
“You need to do this and do it well. For everyone’s sake. Our lives, all of them, are given over in service to our people.”
I looked away. If anything, it felt like Mom, Dad, and I were the trinity of sacrifice here, with the others doing as they pleased.
“I won’t let you down,” I promised. “You do what you must. Make your plans, find a way to appease our public, and I will give you an acceptable window of time to pull it all together.”
His eyes darted toward the ceiling in thought. “Three months? And you swear you’ll try?”
I held up my hand. “I give you my word. I’ll even sign something if you like, but I can’t promise you I’ll fall in love.”
“Wouldn’t be so sure if I was you,” he said knowingly. But I wasn’t him, and I wasn’t Mom. No matter how romantic he thought this was, all I could think of were the thirty-five loud, obnoxious, weird-smelling boys who were about to invade my home. Nothing about that sounded magical.
“It’s a deal.”
I stood, practically ready to dance. “Really?”
“Really.”
I took his hand and sealed my future with a single shake. “Thank you, Dad.”
I left the room before he could see how big my smile was. I had already been running through how I could get most of the boys to leave of their own volition. I could be intimidating when I needed to be or find ways to make the palace a very unwelcoming environment. I also had a secret weapon in Osten, who was the most mischievous of us all and would help me if I asked him to, probably with minimal persuasion.
I admired the thought of a common boy feeling brave enough to face the challenge of becoming a prince. But no one was going to tie me down before I was ready, and I was going to make sure those poor suckers knew what they were signing up for.
They kept the studio cold, but once the lights came on, we might as well have been in an oven for all the good it did. I’d learned years ago to keep my clothing choices for the Report airy, which was why my dress tonight fell off my shoulders. My look was classy, as always, but not something that would subject me to a heatstroke.
“That’s the perfect dress,” Mom commented, pulling at the little ruffles on the sleeves. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you. So do you.”
She smiled as she continued to straighten my dress. “Thank you, sweetheart. I know you’re feeling a little overwhelmed, but I think a Selection will be good for everyone. You’re alone a lot, and it’s something we would have to think about eventually, and—”
“And it will make the people happy. I know.”
I tried to hide the misery in my voice. We had technically moved past selling off the royal daughters, but … this didn’t feel that different. Didn’t she get that?
Her eyes moved from the gown to my face. Something in them told me she was sorry.
“I know you feel like this is a sacrifice; and it’s true that when you live a life of service, there are many things you do, not because you want to, but because you must.” She swallowed. “But through this I found your father, and I found my closest friends, and I learned that I was stronger than I ever thought I could be. I know about the agreement you made with your dad, and if this ends without you finding the right person, so be it. But please, let yourself experience something here. Sharpen yourself, learn something. And try not to hate us for asking you to do it.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“You at least considered it when we proposed this,” she said with a grin. “Didn’t you?”
“I’m eighteen. I’m genetically encoded to fight with my parents.”
“I don’t mind a good fight so long as you still know how much I love you in the end.”
I reached to hug her. “And I love you. Promise.”
She held me for a moment, then pulled away, smoothing my dress to make sure I was still immaculate before she went to find Dad. I walked to take my seat