The Heir (The Selection #4) - Kiera Cass Page 0,14

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?

CHAPTER 6

THIRTY-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