The Heir (The Selection #4)

“They’re good. It’s so silly. The point of getting rid of the castes was so people could have the choice of whatever profession they wanted, and they’re not even using it. It’s almost like they don’t want it to work.”

“Setting up a system to allow something doesn’t mean people will do it.”

“Obviously,” I commented coldly, sipping my drink.

“The key is to make them understand that. Do you remember Mom showing us those old history books and how the United States had that paper”—he paused to think of the name—“the Declaration of Independence? And it said the people were allowed to pursue happiness. But no person making that document could actually hand over happiness.”

I smiled. “You’re too smart.”

“I’d take that as a compliment, but last week you were caught kissing Kile in the dark.”

“Oh, ha ha ha,” I said, tempted to stick out my tongue at him. “It’s not like my opinion ever mattered much anyway.”

“Are you going to marry Kile?”

I nearly choked. “No!”

Kaden laughed wildly, making most of the room look our way.

“I take it back,” I said, dabbing my lips. “You are a singularly gifted idiot!”

I stood, flicking Kaden’s ear as I passed. “Hey!”

“Thanks for being there for me, Kaden. You’re a great brother.”

He rubbed at his ear, still grinning. “I try.”

Marry Kile, I thought, doing my best not to burst out laughing again. If he could continue to be discreet, the chances of me kissing Kile again were very, very high . . . but I couldn’t imagine actually being married to him.

I wasn’t sure I could imagine being married to any of these boys.

I wasn’t sure I could imagine being married at all. . . .

I slowed, looking at some of their faces as I passed. What would it be like to fall asleep next to Hale? Or to have Baden slip a ring on my finger?

I tried to picture it and couldn’t. I remembered Ahren mentioning that some of the Selected asked him if it was possible I liked girls, but even thinking about that made me laugh. I knew that wasn’t what was stopping me from genuinely being able to connect with a boy . . . but I sensed now that something was. It wasn’t simply a desire to be independent; there was a wall around me, and I wasn’t completely sure why.

But wall or no wall, I’d made a promise.

When I got to Ean, I paused.

“Mr. Cabel?”

He stood and bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Do you ride horses?”

“I do.”

“Would you like to accompany me on a ride tomorrow?”

A wicked glint came into his eye. “I would.”

“Excellent. See you then.”

I chose to wear a dress and do the whole thing sidesaddle. It wasn’t my favorite way to ride, but I thought a touch of femininity would add to the purpose of the afternoon.

When I walked out to the stables, Ean was waiting for me, saddling his horse.

“Ean!” I called as I approached.

He lifted his head and waved. He was very handsome, the kind of person I thought people expected to see next to me. Every action of his was controlled, and I was determined to match him and not let myself be anxious.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Almost. I need to grab my saddle.” I walked past him into the stalls.

“Is that what you’re going to wear?”

I whipped back around. “I can do more in ten minutes wearing this dress than most men can do all day wearing pants.”

He laughed. “I don’t doubt it.”

Butterscotch was at the back, in a slightly wider stall than most of the others. A princess’s horse deserved some space and a good view.

I prepped her and walked back to Ean. “If you don’t mind, we’re going to take some photos in the garden first.”

“Oh. No, that’s fine.”

We took our horses by the reins and walked them around to the garden. A man with a camera was there, snapping shots of the sky or trees as he waited. When he saw us, he came over.

“Your Highness,” he greeted, shaking my hand. “I’m Peter. I thought it’d be nice to get a few pictures of the two of you together.”

“Thank you.” I petted Butterscotch. “Where do you want us?”

Peter looked around. “If you can put the horses by a tree, I think a couple of shots in front of this fountain would look nice.”

I let go of Butterscotch, knowing she wouldn’t run. “Come on,” I said warmly.

Once he had tied his horse to a branch, I took his hands. Peter wasted no time. Ean and I smiled and looked shyly away from each other, and this little walk was documented in pictures. We stood in front of the fountain, sat against a shrub, and even took a couple of pictures in front of the horses.

When Peter announced that would be plenty, I nearly threw my arms up in celebration. He walked off rather quickly, grabbing his bags and double-checking his camera. I looked around, and as promised, we weren’t completely alone. Guards lined the palace walls, and a few workers moved around the grounds, tending the grass and paths.

“Here, Butterscotch!” I walked up to her, and she flicked her tail.

Ean masterfully mounted his horse, and I was happy that he was as competent as he’d led me to believe.

“Forgive me, but that seemed a bit staged,” Ean said as we trotted toward the edge of the lawn.

“I know. But allowing them to capture staged moments means that I get to keep the candid moments private.”

“Interesting. So, was that scene with Kile staged or private, then?”

I smirked. Wow, he was quick.

“Last time we spoke, it sounded like you had something you wanted to talk about,” I reminded him.

“I do. I want to be honest with you. But that will require you being completely honest with me. Can you do that?”

Looking into his face, I wasn’t sure I could give him what he asked for. Not today.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Many things. I don’t tend to divulge my soul to people I’ve only known two weeks.”

We trotted on for a few minutes in silence.

“Favorite food?” he asked, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Do mimosas count?”

He chuckled. “Sure. What else . . . favorite place you’ve ever visited?”

“Italy. Partly for the food and partly for the company. If they come here, you have to meet the royal family. They’re too much fun.”