The Heir (The Selection #4) - Kiera Cass Page 0,88
an identical box. They each had a door and a side-facing window. A little tube at the top caught rainwater, and a small bucket collected it by the door. Vents lined the top, and a small tarp jutted out in front, shading the front of the space.
“They look so tiny though.”
“But they’d feel like a mansion if you were homeless.”
I exhaled, thinking that was probably true. “There can’t be space for a bathroom in there.”
“No, but most people use facilities inside the plants. That’s what I read anyway. This would be strictly for shelter, which means workers would be more rested, have better health . . . and there’s just something special about having a place to call your own.”
I watched Kile, his eyes focused on the extra little details he was adding to his work. I knew that hit home for him, that he was aching for anything that truly belonged to him. He pushed the paper away gently, adding it to the others.
“Not nearly as exciting as a ball gown, but that’s all I know how to draw,” he concluded with a laugh.
“And you do it so well.”
“Eh. I just wanted to distract you for a minute, but I don’t know what else to do.”
I reached over and held his hand. “That you came at all is enough. I shouldn’t let myself sulk too much anyway. I need to come up with a plan of action.”
“Like talking about it?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. I have to speak with my dad first.”
I could tell he thought I was being silly, but he didn’t know what was going on. Not really. And even as someone in the know, it was hard to understand.
“Thanks for coming, Kile. I owe you one.”
“You owe me two. I’m still waiting for that chat with my mom.” He winked, not too upset I hadn’t delivered yet.
My promise was still in the back of my head, and I’d had more than one opportunity to bring it up with Miss Marlee. But now I was the problem, not her. It was getting harder to imagine the palace without Kile around.
“Of course. I haven’t forgotten.”
He poked my stomach again, and I giggled. “I know.”
“Let me go talk to my parents. I need to figure out what to do.”
“Okay.” He put an arm around me and walked me out the door, parting with me at the stairs. From there I went straight to the office, nervous about how tired Dad looked when I came in and cleared my throat.
He popped his head up from the papers, shoving the stack of them into a drawer as if I wouldn’t see. “Hey, sweetie. I thought you were going to be working on the Selection side of things this week.”
“Well, that was the plan, but I’m wondering if that will even be of any help right now.”
He was crestfallen. “I don’t know how this happened, Eadlyn. I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry. Baden exaggerated things, but the barest points of his story were real. And with the mayor, I said those things out loud, it’s true. But I was simply venting about the work of it all. Ask Mom; she was there. Everything got twisted around.”
“I already spoke to her, honey, and I’m not upset with you. I just can’t understand why Milla would do that. It’s like everyone is taking aim at us right now. . . .” He kept opening his mouth like he wanted to say more, but he was so confused by the overwhelming unhappiness of the public, he didn’t know where to start.
“I’m trying, Dad, but I don’t think it’s good enough. Which made me wonder if maybe we wanted to try something different.”
He shrugged. “I’m up for most anything at the moment.”
“Let’s switch the focus. No one trusts me right now. Let’s bring Camille in for a visit and let people see how in love Ahren is with her. He always does much better in the spotlight. I can come in and talk about their influence on me, and then we can pick up with the Selection shortly after, try to blend one love story into another.”
He stared at his desk, contemplating. “I don’t know where you get some of your ideas, but that’s inspired, Eadlyn. And I think Ahren will be beside himself. Let me make a call and see if she can even come before we say anything, all right?”
“Absolutely.”
“I want you to plan a party for her. You two should know each other