The Selection (The Selection #1) - Kiera Cass Page 0,71
corner with a tray of tea in her hands.
“Excuse me?” I called to her quietly. Voices carried in these great halls.
The girl curtsied in front of me. “Yes, miss?”
“Would you happen to be going to the prince with that?”
She smiled. “Yes, miss.”
“Could you please take this to him for me?” I held out my little folded-up note.
“Of course, miss!”
She took it eagerly and walked away with a newfound energy. No doubt she would unfold it as soon as she was out of sight, but I felt secure in its odd phrasing.
These hallways were captivating, each one more ornate than my entire house. The wallpaper, the gilt mirrors, the giant vases of fresh flowers all so beautiful. The carpets were lavish and immaculate, the windows were sparkling, and the paintings on the walls were lovely.
There were some paintings by artists I knew—van Gogh, Picasso—and some I didn’t. There were photographs of buildings I had seen before. There was one of the legendary White House. Compared to the pictures and what I’d read in my old history book, the palace dwarfed it in size and luxury, but I still wished it was around to see.
I walked farther down the hall and came upon a portrait of the royal family. It looked old; Maxon was shorter than his mother in this picture. He towered over her now.
In the time I’d been at the palace, I had only ever seen them together at dinners and the Illéa Capital Report airing. Were they very private? Did they not like all these strange young girls in their house? Were they only all here because of blood and duty? I didn’t know what to make of this invisible family.
“America?”
I turned at the sound of my name. Maxon was jogging down the hall toward me.
I felt like I was seeing him for the first time.
He had his suit coat off, and the sleeves were rolled up on his white shirt. His blue tie was loosened at the neck, and his hair that was always slicked back was bouncing around a bit as he moved. In stark contrast to the person in uniform yesterday, he looked more boyish, more real.
I froze. Maxon came up to me and grabbed my wrists.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he pressed.
Wrong?
“Nothing. I’m fine,” I replied. Maxon let out a breath I didn’t realize he was holding.
“Thank goodness. When I got your note, I thought you were sick or something happened to your family.”
“Oh! Oh, no. Maxon, I’m so sorry. I knew that was a stupid idea. I just didn’t know if you’d be at dinner, and I wanted to see you.”
“Well, what for?” he asked. He was still looking me over with a furrowed brow, as if he was making sure nothing was broken.
“Just to see you.”
Maxon stopped moving. He looked into my eyes with a kind of wonder.
“You just wanted to see me?” He looked happily surprised.
“Don’t be so shocked. Friends usually spend time together.” My tone added the of course.
“Ah, you’re cross with me because I’ve been engaged all week, aren’t you? I didn’t mean to neglect our friendship, America.” Now he was back to the businesslike Maxon.
“No, I’m not mad. I was just explaining myself. You look busy. Go back to work, and I’ll see you when you’re free.” I noticed he was still holding on to my wrists.
“Actually, do you mind if I stay a few minutes? They’re having a budget meeting upstairs, and I detest those things.” Without waiting for an answer, Maxon pulled me over to a short, plush sofa halfway down the hall that rested underneath a window, and I giggled a little as we sat. “What’s so funny?”
“Just you,” I said, smiling. “It’s cute to see that your job bugs you. What’s so bad about the meetings, anyway?”
“Oh, America!” he said, facing me again. “They go round and round in circles. Father does a good job at calming the advisers, but it’s so hard to push the committees in any given direction. Mom is always on Father to give more to the school systems—she thinks the more educated you are, the less likely you are to be a criminal, and I agree—but Father is never forceful enough to get them to take away from other areas that could manage perfectly with lower funds. It’s infuriating! And it’s not like I’m in command, so my opinion is easily overlooked.” Maxon propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. He looked tired.