giving up on the food and slipped into my nightgown. I couldn’t reason with Mom and Dad right now, and Neena didn’t understand. I needed to talk to the only person who might see my side, the person who sometimes felt like he was half of me. I needed Ahren.
“Are you busy?” I asked, cracking open his door.
Ahren was sitting at his desk, writing. His blond hair was end-of-the-day messy, but his eyes were far from tired, and he looked so much like the pictures of Dad when he was younger it was eerie. He was still dressed from dinner but had taken off his coat and tie, settling in for the evening. “Knock, for goodness’ sake.”
“I know, I know; but it’s an emergency.”
“Then get a guard,” he snapped back, returning to his papers.
“That’s already been suggested,” I muttered to myself. “I’m serious, Ahren; I need your help.”
Ahren peeked over his shoulder at me, and I could see he was already planning to give in. He used his foot to push out the seat next to him casually. “Step into my office.”
Sitting, I sighed. “What are you writing?”
He quickly piled papers on top of the one he’d been working on. “A letter to Camille.”
“You know you could simply phone her.”
He grinned. “Oh, I will. But then I’ll send her this, too.”
“That makes no sense. What could you possibly have to talk about that would fill an entire phone call and a letter?”
He tilted his head. “For your information, they serve different purposes. The calls are for updates and to see how her day went. The letters are for the things I can’t always say out loud.”
“Oh, really?” I leaned over, reaching for the paper.
Before I could even get close, Ahren’s hand gripped my wrist. “I will murder you,” he vowed.
“Good,” I shot. “Then you can be the heir, and you can go through a Selection and kiss your precious Camille good-bye.”
He scrunched his forehead. “What?”
I slumped back into my chair. “Mom and Dad need to boost morale. They’ve decided that, for the sake of Illéa,” I said in mock patriotism, “I need to go through a Selection.”
I was expecting abject horror. Perhaps a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. But Ahren threw back his head and laughed.
“Ahren!”
He continued to howl, pitching himself forward and hitting his knee.
“You’re going to wrinkle your suit,” I warned, which only made him laugh harder. “For goodness’ sake, stop it! What am I supposed to do?”
“As if I know! I can’t believe they think this would even work,” he added, his smile still not fading.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I thought, if you ever did get married, it’d be down the line. I think everyone assumed that.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
The warm touch I’d been hoping for finally came as he reached for my hand. “Come on, Eady. You’ve always been independent. It’s the queen in you. You like to be in charge, do things on your own. I didn’t think you’d partner up with anyone until you at least got to reign for a while.”
“Not like I really had a choice in the first place,” I mumbled, tilting my head to the floor but still looking to my brother.
He gave me a little pout. “Poor little princess. Don’t want to rule the world?”
I swatted his hand away. “Seven minutes. It should have been you. I’d much rather sit alone and scribble away instead of do all that stupid paperwork. And this ridiculous Selection nonsense! Can’t you see how dreadful this is?”
“How did you get roped into this anyway? I thought they’d done away with it.”
I rolled my eyes again. “It has absolutely nothing to do with me. That’s the worst part. Dad’s facing public opposition, so he’s trying to distract them.” I shook my head. “It’s getting really bad, Ahren. People are destroying homes and businesses. Some have died. Dad isn’t completely sure where it’s coming from, but he thinks it’s people our age, the generation that grew up without castes, causing most of it.”
He made a face. “That doesn’t make sense. How could growing up without those restrictions make you upset?”
I paused, thinking. How could I explain what we could only really guess at? “Well, I grew up being told I was going to be queen one day. That was it. No choice. You grew up knowing you had options. You could go into the military, you could become an ambassador, you could do plenty of