The chosen one

Kiera Cass
Translation by Jorge

Rizzo
Original title:The One
© Kiera Cass, 2014
First edition in this format: May 2014 © from
the translator: Jorge Rizzo
© of this edition: Roca Editorial de Libros, S. L.
Av. Marquès de l'Argentera 17, pral.
08003 Barcelona.
info@rocaebooks.com
www.rocaebooks.com
ISBN: 978-84-9918-829-4
All rights reserved. They remain
strictly prohibited, without authorization
writing of the copyright holders, under the
sanctions established in the laws, the
total or partial reproduction of this work by
any means or procedure,
including reprography and treatment
computer, and the distribution of copies of it
through rent or public loans.
THE CHOSEN ONE
Kiera Cass
The situation in the palace is increasingly
dangerous. The rebels attack both from the north and
the south and in America, the girls who are still in the
National Team and Maxon are in real danger.
While this situation becomes increasingly more
pressing, the dilemma in which America finds herself is
not much better: she must choose between her first
love, Aspen, and Prince Maxon, who little by little has
been conquering her. This is without taking into account
that the prince must also choose her from among the six
selected who could become his wife and who still remain
in the palace.
Political struggles, love, violence, doubts... America
will have to make decisions that will change the course
not only of her life, but of everyone around her.
The chosen oneIt is the exciting ending to the The
Selection trilogy.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kiera Cass He graduated from Radford University in
History. He grew up in South Carolina and
He currently lives in Blacksburg, Virginia, with his family.
In her free time Kiera likes to read, dance, make videos
and eat lots of cake.Rockeditorial has also published his
works La Selección, La elite, El Príncipe and El
guardian.
kieracass.com
@kieracass
YouTube.com/user/kieracass
ABOUT THE TRILOGY
«Wonderful novel that has conquered me from the
first page. I'm just looking forward to the second part."
LA WINDOW OF BOOKS
«The selectionIt brims with suspense, unexpected
surprises throughout its sentimental plenitude. If what
you want is one of those exciting love stories, the kind
that makes your heart race, this book is an excellent
option. As for the characters, America is a feisty and
fiercely independent heroine…”
THE HUFFINGTON POST
For Callaway.
The boy who climbed the treehouse of my heart
and made me the crown of his.
Chapter 1

ANDWe were in the Great Hall, enduring a new

lesson in protocol, when bricks crashed through the
window. Elise threw herself to the ground and crawled
toward the side door, sobbing. Celeste screamed and ran
to the back, narrowly avoiding a shower of glass. Kriss
grabbed my arm and pulled me along, and I ran after
her toward the door.
—Quickly, ladies! —Sylvia shouted.
Just a few seconds later, the guards had already
positioned themselves next to the windows and had
started shooting; The noise resonated in my ears like an
echo. Whether with firearms or stones, any attack in the
vicinity of the palace meant death for the attackers.
There was no mercy for them.
 "I hate running in these shoes," Kriss murmured, her
dress gathered over her arm and her gaze focused on
the other end of the room.
—Well, one of us is going to have to get used to it.
"Let's do it," Celeste said with a broken voice. I
looked up at the sky.
—If it's me, I plan to wear sneakers every day. I'm
already fed up.
—Less chatting! Move! —Silvia ordered us. —How
are we going to get down from here? —Elise asked.
—And Maxon? —Kriss added, panting.
Silvia did not respond. We followed her through a
maze of hallways, looking for a passage to the
basement, watching the guards we passed running in
the opposite direction. I couldn't help but admire them,
amazed by their courage. They ran towards danger to
protect other people.
The guards passing by us all looked the same to me,
until a pair of green eyes met mine. Aspen didn't seem
scared or nervous. There was a problem and he was
about to find a solution. That's how he was, just like
that.
 The exchange of glances was quick, but it was
enough. With Aspen it was like that. In a split second,
without a word in between, I could tell him: "Be careful
and don't
put yourself in danger." And, without saying anything,
he responded: «I know. You worry about getting safe.
Although I didn't have a big problem with the things
we didn't need to say to each other, I didn't do as well
with the things we did say out loud to each other. Our
last conversation hadn't been exactly pleasant. I had
been on the verge of leaving the palace and I had asked
him to give me some space to get over the National
Team. However, in the end I had stayed and had not
given him any explanation.
Maybe he was running out of patience with me, that
ability he had to see only the best in me. And I had to
do something to fix it. I couldn't imagine a life without
Aspen. Even now, when I hoped Maxon would choose
me, a world without him was unimaginable.
-Here it is! —Silvia exclaimed, pushing a hidden
panel in a wall.
We began the descent down the stairs, with Elise
and Silvia at the head.
—For God's sake, Elise, lighten up! —Celeste
shouted.
I wish I could have been angry with her for her
bad character, but I knew we were all thinking the
same thing.
As we plunged into darkness, I tried to wrap my
head around the hours we would lose, hidden like mice.
We continue going down. The noise of our footsteps
covered that of the shots, until a man's voice sounded at
the top of the stairs.
-High!
Kriss and I turned at the same time, waiting, until
we made out the uniform.
—Stop! -she said-. He's a guard!
We stopped, breathing hard. Finally he reached us,
panting too.
—I'm sorry, ladies. The rebels ran away as soon as
they heard the first shots. I guess they wouldn't feel like
war today.
Silvia ran her hands over her dress to smooth it and
spoke for us:
 "Has the king decided it is safe?" If not, you are
putting these girls in danger.
—The head of the guard has given the order. I'm sure
that your majesty...
—You do not speak for the king. Come on, ladies,
keep going.
-Oh really? -I asked for-. Are we going down there
for nothing?
He gave me a look that would have been enough to
chill the rebels, so I decided to keep my mouth shut. A
certain friendship had been created between Silvia and
me, since she, without knowing it, had helped me
distract myself from Maxon and Aspen with her extra
classes. But after my little stumble in theReport A few
days before, it seemed that that had come to nothing.
He turned to the guard:
—Bring me an official order from the king. Then we
will return. Keep walking, ladies.
The guard and I exchanged an exasperated look and
each of us went our separate ways.
Silvia did not seem at all sorry when, twenty
minutes later, another guard came and announced that
we could go up whenever we wanted.
I was so furious with that whole situation that I
didn't wait for Silvia or the others. I went up the stairs,
went out to the
downstairs through the first door I found and continued
to my room, with my shoes still in my hand. My maids
were not there, but there was a little silver tray on the
bed, with an envelope on top.
I immediately recognized May's writing and tore
open the envelope, devouring her words:
Ames:
We are aunts! Astra is fine. I wish you were here
to see it in person, but we all understand that right
now you have to stay in the palace. Do you think we
can see each other at Christmas?
It's not so long now! I have to go back to help
Kenna and James.
The girl is cute! Here you have a photo. We love
you!
MAY
The photograph was behind the note. It was a glossy
image in which the entire family appeared, except Kota
and me. Kenna's husband James looked elated, standing
next to his wife and daughter, his eyes swollen. Kenna
was sitting on the bed, with that little pink lump on her
arms, delighted and at the same time exhausted. Mom
and Dad were beaming with pride, and May and Gerad's
enthusiasm was evident as well. Of course, Kota had not
shown up; I had nothing to gain. But I should have been
there.
And it wasn't there.
I was here. And sometimes I didn't understand why.
Maxon was still seeing Kriss, despite everything he had
done to get me to stay. The rebels did not stop
launching attacks from the outside, putting our security
at risk, and inside the cold treatment that the king gave
me undermined my confidence as much or more than
the attacks. Plus there was Aspen, always present,
something he had to keep a secret. And all those
cameras everywhere, stealing little pieces of life from us
to entertain the people. I was feeling pressured from all
sides, and I was missing out on everything that had
always mattered to me.
I held back tears of rage. I was tired of crying.
 What had to be done was take action. The only way
to fix things was for the National Team to reach
its end.
Although I still wondered from time to time if I
really wanted to be the princess, there was no doubt in
my mind that I wanted to be with Maxon. So, I couldn't
just sit back and wait for it to happen. I began to walk
up and down, remembering my last conversation with
the king, waiting for my maids to arrive.

I could barely breathe, so I knew the food wouldn't

get into me. But it was worth the sacrifice. I needed to
move forward and I had to do it quickly. According to
the king, the other girls were getting closer to
Maxon—physically—and he had made it clear to me
that I was too vulgar to compete in that arena.
As if my relationship with Maxon wasn't complicated
enough, a new problem arose: regaining his trust. And I
wasn't sure if that meant I shouldn't ask questions.
Although she was pretty sure that it wasn't true that she
had gotten very far physically with the other girls, she
couldn't
avoid asking me. I'd never tried to use my weapons of
seduction—virtually every moment of intimacy I'd ever
had with Maxon had come about unintentionally—but I
was hoping that if I did it on purpose, he'd make it clear
that he was at least as interested. in it than the others.
I took a deep breath, raised my chin and,
determined, headed to the dining room. I arrived a
minute or two late, deliberately, hoping everyone
would already be seated. I calculated well. And I got a
better reaction than expected.
I bowed, throwing my leg back so that the slit of the
dress opened, exposing most of my thigh. The dress was
a deep red, strapless and practically the entire back was
exposed. I was sure that my maids had used magical
powers to keep her from falling with so little support. I
raised my head and locked eyes with Maxon, who—I
noticed—had stopped chewing. Someone dropped their
fork.
I looked down and headed to my seat, next to
Kriss. —And that, America? —she whispered to
me.
-Sorry? —I responded, tilting my head in his
direction, pretending not to understand.
She placed the cutlery on the plate and we both
looked into each other's eyes.
—You are very ordinary.
—Well, you're jealous.
I must have almost hit the mark, because he blushed
a little before returning to his plate. I took a few bites of
mine, unable to swallow much due to the pressure of
the dress. When the dessert was placed in front of me, I
decided to stop avoiding Maxon, who, as I expected,
had his eyes on me. I looked at King Clarkson for a
moment and tried not to smile. He was furious; I had
achieved it again.
I was the first to excuse myself and leave the room;
so Maxon could admire the back of my dress. I
immediately headed to my room. I closed the door
behind me and immediately unzipped my dress,
desperate to breathe.
-How has it been? —Mary asked, approaching
quickly.
—He seemed impressed. They all seemed that way.
Lucy suppressed a squeal of joy. Anne came to help
Mary.
—We support it. "You take a step forward," he told
me. I did what he told me. Are you coming tonight?
-Yeah. "I'm not sure when, but it will definitely
come," I replied, sitting on the edge of the bed, with my
arms crossed over my belly to keep the dress from
falling out of my hands.
Anne made a sad face.
—I'm sorry you have to be uncomfortable for a few
more hours. But I'm sure it will be worth it. I smiled,
trying to give the impression that I was handling the
pain well. I had told my maids that I wanted to get
Maxon's attention. What I hadn't told them was that,
with any luck, I hoped that dress would end up on the
floor.
—Do you want us to stay until he arrives? —Lucy
asked, with overflowing enthusiasm. —No, I just need
you to help me put this thing back on. "I have to think
through a few things," I replied, standing up so they
could
help me.
Mary grabbed the zipper.
 —Take a breath, miss.
I obeyed. Feeling the pressure of the dress again
made me think of a soldier preparing for war. Different
armor, but the same purpose.
And, that night, the enemy he had to defeat was one
man.
Chapter 2

AI opened the balcony doors so that the air could

enter my room and clean the atmosphere. Even though
it was December, there was a gentle breeze blowing
that tickled my skin. We were no longer allowed to go
out, not even accompanied by guards, so I would have
to make do with that.
I paced nervously around the room, lighting candles,
trying to create a cozy atmosphere. Finally there was a
knock at the door. I put out the match. I jumped on the
bed, grabbed a book and spread out my dress. Because
of course, Maxon, that's what I always wore when
reading.
“Go ahead,” I said, raising my voice just enough for
him to hear me.
 Maxon entered and I raised my head slightly,
watching his expression of surprise as he looked around
the darkened room. Finally he looked at me and his
eyes went up from the leg he had in view.
-Hello! —I said, closing the book and standing up to
greet him.
He closed the door and entered, unable to turn away.
look at my curves.
"I just wanted to tell you that you look fantastic
today."
I brushed my hair back with a carefree gesture.
—Oh, this? It was at the back of the closet; I didn't even
know I had it.
—Well, I'm glad you brought it up.
I took his hand and our fingers intertwined. —Come
sit down. We haven't seen each other much lately.
"Yes, I'm sorry," he said with a sigh, following me.
Things have gotten a little complicated after losing so
many people in the last rebel attack, and you know
what my father is like. We've sent quite a few guards to
protect your families, and we don't have enough men,
so he's in a worse mood than ever. And he pressures me
to put an end to the National Team, but I don't want to
give in. I need time to think it over.
We sat on the edge of the bed. I approached him.
-Clear. You should be the one to decide.
"Exactly," he agreed. I know I've said it a thousand
times,
But when they pressure me, I get nervous. "Yeah," I
said, pursing my lips.
He paused and made a face that I couldn't interpret.
She was trying to decide how to speed things up
without feeling like she was pressuring him, but she
wasn't sure how to create a romantic situation, so to
speak.
—I know it's silly, but today my maids put a new
perfume on me. Does it seem too intense to you? I
asked, tilting my neck so he could come closer and
breathe it in.
He approached. His nose brushed a piece of my skin.
-No, honey; "It's wonderful," he said, his mouth still in
the curve between her neck and shoulder. Then he
kissed me right there.
I swallowed, trying not to lose concentration. I
couldn't get distracted.
 -I'm glad you like it. I've missed you so much.
I felt his hand running down my back and I lowered
my face. There he was, looking into my eyes; Our lips
were just millimeters away from each other.
—How much have you missed me? -whisper. That
look and the whisper of his voice made my heart skip a
beat.
"A lot," I whispered. Much much.
I leaned forward, wanting him to kiss me. Maxon
seemed sure of himself, pulling me closer with the hand
he had on my back and stroking my hair with the other.
My body wanted to melt into a kiss, but the dress
prevented me from doing so. Then, suddenly nervous
again, I remembered my plan.
Sliding my hands up Maxon's arms, I guided his
fingers to the zipper at the back of my dress, hoping
that would be enough.
His hands stayed there for a moment; However,
when I was about to tell him to unzip, he burst out
laughing.
That laugh made me react suddenly.
-What is so funny? —I asked, horrified, trying to find
a way to catch my breath without it being noticeable.
—Of everything you've done in the palace, this is
without a doubt the most fun! —Maxon answered,
cringing and slapping his knee, as if he couldn't control
his laughter.
-As you say?
He kissed me on the forehead, hard.
"I've always wondered what it would be like when
you tried it," he said, and laughed again. I'm sorry I
have to go. —Even his posture showed how much fun
he was having. I will see you in the morning.
And then he left. He left, just like that!
I sat there, mortified. What had made me think I
could do it? Okay, Maxon didn't know everything about
me, but at least he knew the way I was... and I certainly
wasn't like that.
I stared at that ridiculous dress. It was very
exaggerated. Not even Celeste would have gone that
far. She had her hair done up too much, too much
makeup. Maxon had known what I was trying to do
from the moment I walked through the door. Sighing, I
paced the room, blowing out candles and wondering
what to look like the next day when I saw him.
Chapter 3

Mand I considered alleging gastritis. Or an

unbearable headache. A panic attack. Anything to avoid
having to go down to breakfast.
Then I thought of Maxon, who always said to face
problems. That was something I wasn't particularly
good at. But if he at least came down to breakfast, if he
managed to show up... well, maybe he would
appreciate the gesture.
Hoping to be able to make up for what happened the
day before as much as possible, I asked my maids to put
me in the most modest dress they had. Only with that
did they make it clear that they should not ask about
the previous night. The collar was a little higher than
what we usually wore in Angeles in that warm weather,
and it had sleeves that reached almost to my elbows. It
was a happy outfit, with flowers, just the opposite of
the previous night.
I barely managed to look at Maxon as I entered the
dining room, but at least I kept my head up.
When I finally looked in his direction, he was
watching, with an amused grimace on his face. As he
chewed, he winked at me; I lowered my head again,
feigning great interest in my quiche.
"I'm glad to see you today in your usual clothes,"
Kriss snapped.
—I'm glad to see you in such a good mood.
—But what's wrong with you? -Whispered
me. Dejected, I gave up:
—I'm not in the mood for this today, Kriss. Do not
insist.
For a moment it looked like he was going to reply,
but he must have thought it wasn't worth it. He
straightened his body a little more and continued
eating. If I had even minimally triumphed the night
before, I would have been able to justify my actions;
but, as things were, I couldn't even pretend to be proud.
I took the risk and looked back at Maxon. Although
he wasn't looking at me, he continued with that funny
face while he ate. That was too much. I wasn't going to
spend all day suffering. I decided to pretend that I
would faint or suddenly have a stomachache that would
allow me to get out of there, but suddenly a man came
in.
raised. She carried an envelope on a silver tray, and
bowed before placing it directly in front of King
Clarkson.
The king took the letter and read it immediately.
"Damn French," he muttered. Sorry Ambery, looks
like I'm going to have to leave right away. —Another
problem with the trade agreement? —she asked,
without raising her voice.
-Yeah. I thought it had been settled months ago.
“This time we have to stand firm,” he said, standing up.
He tossed the napkin on the plate and headed for the
door.
"Father," Maxon intervened, standing up in his turn,
"don't you want me to go with you?"
I had already been surprised that the king had not
rudely ordered his son to follow him out, accustomed as
I was to that particular way he had of giving him
instructions. He turned to Maxon, his gaze cold and his
voice icy.
"When you are ready to behave like a king, you can
experience what a king does," he replied, and left.
 Maxon stood for a moment, stunned and
embarrassed by the public admonishment he had
received. He sat down and addressed his mother:
"To tell the truth, it's not that I really wanted that
trip," he joked, trying to make light of the matter. The
queen smiled, as was required, and the rest of us
ignored it.
The other girls finished their breakfast, excused
themselves and headed to the Women's Room. When it
was just Maxon, Elise and I at the table, I raised my
eyes and looked at him. We both pulled our ears at the
same time, and smiled. Elise left for ɹn. We found
ourselves in the center of the dining room, oblivious to
the movement of the maids and servants who were
clearing the table.
"It's my fault I don't take you," I lamented. "Maybe," he
joked. Believe me, this is not the first time he has
wanted to put me in my place, and I am sure he is
convinced that it is absolutely necessary. Although I
wouldn't be surprised if this time it was just a tantrum.
He doesn't want to lose control. And the closer it gets to
the time for me to choose a wife, the more likely it is
 that
lose it. Although we both know that he will never
completely let go of the reins.
—You could also send me home. I'll never let you
choose me.
I still hadn't told him about the time his father had
cornered me, threatening me after Maxon had asked
him to allow me to remain in the palace. The king had
made it clear that he had better not tell anyone about
our conversation, and I didn't want to provoke his
anger, although at the same time I felt terrible for
hiding it from Maxon.
"Besides," I added, crossing my arms, "after last
night, I don't think you'd really want me to stay either."
He bit his lip.
—I'm sorry I laughed, but honestly, what else could I
do?
“A lot of things crossed my mind,” I murmured, still
embarrassed after my attempt to seduce him. I feel so
stupid! —I said, burying my face in my hands.
"Stop, stop," he answered softly, pulling
me and hugging me. Believe me, it was very tempting.
But you're not like that.
"And shouldn't it be?" Shouldn't that be part of who
we are? —I protested, with a muffled lament against his
chest.
—Don't you remember the girl from the shelter
anymore? —he said, lowering his voice.
Yes, but that was basically a goodbye. —It
would have been a fantastic farewell.
I stepped back and slapped him playfully. He
laughed, glad to have eliminated the tension. "We'd
better forget it," I proposed.
-Very good. Plus, you and I have a common project
to work on.
-Oh yeah?
—Yes, and now that my father is leaving, it will be a
good time to start putting ideas together. "Very good," I
answered, excited at the idea of ​being part of something
in which we would be alone. The sigh. I was becoming
more and more intrigued.
-You're right. My father doesn't like you. But I may
have to give in if we get one thing done.
-Which?
 —We have to make you the public's favorite. I
looked up at the sky.
—Is that what we have to achieve? Maxon, that's
never going to happen. I saw a survey in one of Celeste's
magazines after she tried to save Marlee. People can't
stand me.
—People change their minds. Don't let yourself be
discouraged by a specific moment.
I hardly had any hope for that, but what could I say?
It was my only option. At least he could try.
"Well," I agreed. But I'm telling you, this isn't going
to work.
With a mischievous grin, he approached me and
gave me a slow, long kiss.
—And I tell you that it will work.
Chapter 4

FI went to the Women's Room, still thinking about

Maxon's new plan. The queen had not yet appeared, and
the girls were all glued to one of the windows.
—America, come! —Kriss urged me.
Even Celeste turned around, smiling and gesturing
for me to come closer.
It seemed strange to me that they could all be
waiting for me, but I approached the little group. -Oh
my God! —I exclaimed, unable to suppress a little
scream.
—Isn't it? —Celeste sighed.
There in the garden, running around the perimeter
bare-chested, were half the palace guards. Aspen had
told me that all the guards were given injections to
keep them in the best physical condition possible, but it
seemed like they also trained a lot to stay in shape.
Although we all had our minds set on Maxon, seeing
those handsome boys was something that didn't let us
indifferent.
—Look at the blonde! —Kriss said—. Well, I think
he's blonde. Her hair is so short!
“I like this one,” Elise noted, without raising her
voice, just as another guard passed in front of our
window.
Kriss giggled nervously.
—I can't believe we're seeing this! -Oh oh! That one
over there, the one with the green eyes! —Celeste said,
pointing at Aspen.
"I danced with him," Kriss remembered, with a sigh,
"and he's as funny as he is handsome."
"I danced with him too," Celeste boasted. He is
undoubtedly the most handsome guard in the entire
palace. I couldn't help but giggle. I wondered what
Celeste would say if she knew Aspen used to be a Six. I
watched him run and thought about the hundreds of
times those arms had surrounded me. The distance that
was being created between Aspen and me was
increasing, but even so, I couldn't help but wonder if
there wasn't a way to preserve a small part of what we
had had. What would happen if I needed it?
—And you, America? Kriss asked.
The only one that really caught my attention was
Aspen. After that painful reflection, that seemed
somewhat silly to me. I dodged the question.
-I don't know. They are all pretty good.
-Fairly good? —Celeste replied—. You have to be
kidding! These guys are some of the most handsome I've
ever seen.
"They're just a bunch of shirtless kids," I replied.
 —Yes, well, but enjoy it while you can. Maybe in a
minute you won't see him anymore.
—Well, go. Maxon, shirtless, is just as handsome as
any of these guys.
-That? —Kriss exclaimed.
Barely a second after the words had left my mouth, I
realized what I had said.
Three pairs of eyes fixed on me.
—When have you and Maxon been shirtless,
exactly? —Celeste asked.
-I never!
—But... does he? Kriss insisted. Is that what that
incredible dress from yesterday was about?
—What a bitch! —Celeste blurted out.
-Sorry? —I replied, raising my voice. —Well, what
do you want me to tell you? —he snapped at me,
crossing his arms—. Unless you want to tell us
everything that happened, and why we are so wrong.
But there was no way to explain it. The situation in
which he had helped Maxon take off his shirt hadn't
been very romantic, but he couldn't tell the girls that he
had healed the wounds his father had made on his back.
He had kept that secret all his life. If I betrayed him and
revealed it, it would be the end of our relationship.
—Celeste had him cornered in a hallway, and she
was half naked! —I accused her, pointing a finger at
her. -How do you know that? —she asked, mouth
agape. "Has everyone gotten naked with Maxon?" Elise
asked, horrified.
—I haven't gotten naked! —I shouted.
“Okay,” Kriss said, holding out his arms. This must
be clarified. Who has done what with Maxon?
We all fell silent for a moment; No one wanted to be
the first.
"I kissed him," said Elise. Three times, but that's all.
"I haven't kissed him once," Kriss confessed. But it
was by own decision. He would have done it, if I had
let him.
-Really? Not one time? —Celeste asked, amazed.
-Not even one.
"Well, I've kissed him plenty of times," Celeste
replied, tossing her hair back, choosing to look proud
rather than embarrassed. “The best one was in the
lobby one night,” he added, looking at me. We kept
whispering to each other how exciting it was to know
that we could get caught.
Finally all eyes fell on me. I thought about the king's
words, suggesting to me that the other girls were being
much more promiscuous than I was willing to be. But
now I knew that it was just another weapon in his
arsenal, a device to make me feel insignificant. That
calmed me down.
—He gave his first kiss to me, not to Olivia. I didn't
want anyone to know. And we had some… more
intimate moments, and in one of them Maxon… went
shirtless.
—How did he stay shirtless? Did it fly away by
magic? —Celeste pressed. "He took it off," I admitted.
Celeste was not satisfied with the
explanation: —Did he take it off or did you
take it off?
—I guess both.
After a tense moment, Kriss spoke again:
—Well, now we all know where we are. —And
where are we? —Elise asked.
Nobody answered.
 —I just wanted to say… All those moments were
important to me, and Maxon is too. —Do you mean that
for us it is not? —Celeste replied.
—I know it's not for you.
-How dare you?
—Celeste, it's no secret that what you want
It's the power. I'm willing to accept that you like Maxon,
but yours isn't love. What interests you is the crown.
Not bothering to deny it, he turned to Elise. —And
what about you? I have never seen the slightest
emotion in you!
—I'm reserved. “You should try it sometime,” Elise
responded, without thinking. Seeing that spark of rage
in her made me like her even better. In my family, all
marriages are arranged. I knew that was what awaited
me. And it is about just that. I may not be crazy about
Maxon, but I respect him. Love can come later.
Kriss seemed moved:
—Actually that sounds pretty sad, Elise. -It is not.
There are things more important than love. We
stared at her. His words still
They resonated in the environment. I had fought for my
family, and for Aspen, and all for love. And now it
scared me to think that everything I did in relation to
Maxon—even the silliest things—was conditioned by
that feeling. Still, what if
Was there really something more important in all that?
"Well, it's not hard for me to admit it," Kriss suddenly
blurted out, "I'm in love and I want to marry him."
I was trapped in an argument that I had started
myself. I wanted the Earth to swallow me up. Why
would he have caused all that?
"Okay, America, let it all out," Celeste demanded. I
froze, barely able to breathe. It took me a moment to
find the words.
—Maxon knows how I feel. That's what's important.
She looked at the sky, but did not insist. I certainly
knew that I wouldn't remain silent if I replied.
We stood there, looking at each other. The National
Team had started months ago, and now we finally knew
the weapons of our rivals. We had all discovered what
each other's relationship with Maxon was like, at least
in some aspect. Now we could all look at each other in
the face.
 A moment later the queen entered and wished us
good morning. After the obligatory bows, we all
we withdraw. Each one in her corner, with her
thoughts. Maybe it had to be like this, from the
beginning. We were four girls and a prince. Three of us
would be gone very soon, and we would only have one
interesting story to tell about how we were eliminated.
Chapter 5

CHe paced around the basement library, back and

forth, trying to mentally put the words in order. I knew
I had to explain to Maxon what had happened before he
got the news from the other girls, but that didn't mean I
wanted to have that conversation.
"Knock, knock," he said, and entered. He noticed my
worried expression. What's happening?
"Don't be angry with me," I warned him as he
approached.
He slowed his pace and the look of concern on his
face became wary.
-I'll try.
"The girls know that I saw you 'bare-chested,'" I said,
and I saw the question appear on their lips. “But I didn’t
tell them anything about your back,” I assured him. I
would have liked to do it, because now they think we
are living a passionate affair.
"Well, that's how it ended," he joked.
—Don't laugh, Maxon! They hate me right now.
His eyes did not lose their shine. I hug myself.
—If it's any consolation, I'm not angry. As long as
you keep the secret from me, I don't care. Although I'm
a little surprised that you explained it to him. How did
the topic arise?
"I don't think I should tell you," I said, burying my
head in his chest.
“Hmmm,” he replied, running his thumb up and
down my back. We were supposed to trust each other
more.
—And so it is. “I'm asking you to trust me: this will
only get worse if I tell you,” I responded. Maybe I was
wrong, but I was pretty sure that if I confessed to
Maxon that we'd been staring at the sweaty, half-naked
guards, the four of us would be in some kind of trouble.
"Okay," he said finally. The girls know you've seen
me bare-chested. Anything else?
Vacilé.
—They know I was the first girl you kissed. And I
know everything you've done with them and what you
haven't. -That? —He reacted, leaning back.
—When I let out that I had seen you shirtless, the
accusations began, and we all came clean. I know
you've kissed Celeste repeatedly, and that you would
have kissed Kriss a long time ago if she'd let you.
Everything came out.
He rubbed his hand over his face and took a few
steps, trying to assimilate that information.
—So now I no longer have any privacy? Absolutely?
Why have the four of you decided to compare markers?
—His frustration was evident.
"Well, if you cared so much about honesty, you
should be happy."
He stopped and stared at me.
-As you say?
—Now everything is clear. We all have a pretty clear
idea of ​our position and I, in particular, am calmer.
-Quieter? —he said, looking up. —If you had told
me that Celeste and I were more or less at the same
point, physically, I would never have presented myself
to you like last night. Do you have any idea what a
humiliation that was for me?
He snorted and started pacing up and down.
—Please, America; You have said and done so many
stupid things that it surprises me that you can still be
embarrassed.
Maybe it was because I hadn't had such a complete
education, but it took me a second to assimilate those
words. Maxon had always liked her, or so she said. Even
though everyone thought it wasn't the most convenient
thing to do. Could it be that he thought so too?
"If that's the case, I'm leaving," I said quietly, unable
to look him in the eye. I'm sorry I said the shirt thing.
—I went towards the door, feeling so small that I didn't
even believe he saw me.
—Come on, America. I didn't mean...
"No, it's okay," I murmured. I will control what I say
more.
I walked up the stairs, not sure if I wanted Maxon to
come after me or not. It did not.
 When I got to my room, Anne, Mary and Lucy were
there, changing the sheets on the bed and dusting.
“Hello, miss,” Anne greeted me. Wants a
little tea?
—No, I'm going to sit on the balcony for a moment.
If a visitor comes, say that I am resting. Anne frowned a
little, but nodded. -Of course.
I spent a while taking some fresh air, and then I
started reading the texts that Silvia had prepared for us.
I slept a little and played the violin for a while.
Anything to avoid the other girls and Maxon.
With the king out of the palace, we were allowed to
dine in the room, so that's what I did. As I was serving
up my lemon pepper chicken, there was a knock on the
door. Maybe it was my own paranoia, but I was sure it
would be Maxon. At that moment I couldn't see him, in
any way. I grabbed Mary and Anne by the arm and took
them to the bathroom.
"Lucy," I whispered, "tell him I'm taking a bath."
-Whom? A bathroom?
-Yeah. Don't let him in.
-What's going on? —said Anne, as I closed the door
and put my ear to the door.
—Do you hear anything? -I asked for.
Anne and Mary imitated my gesture to see if they
could hear something intelligible.
I heard Lucy's voice muffled through the door; then I
put my ear to the crack and their conversation became
much clearer.
"He's in the bathroom, your highness," Lucy
answered, evenly. It was Maxon.
—Oh. I hoped he was still eating. I thought maybe I
could have dinner with her.
"He's decided to take a bath before dinner," Lucy
answered, with a small tremor in her voice. He didn't
like having to lie.
"Come on, don't break down," I thought.
-I see. Well, maybe you can tell him to call me when
he's done. I would like to talk to her. —Umm… The
bath may last quite a while, your highness. Maxon was
silent for a moment.
—Oh. Very good. Then please tell him that I have
come and to send for me if he wants to talk. Tell him
not to worry about the time; I'll come.
 -Yes sir.
He was silent for a long time, and I was already
beginning to think he was gone.
"Okay, thank you," he finally said. Good night.
—Good evening, your highness.
I stayed hidden for a few more seconds to make sure
he was gone. When I came out, Lucy was still standing
by the door. I looked at my maids and saw the question
in their eyes.
"Today I want to be alone," I said, without giving
more details. In fact, I think I'm ready to disconnect. If
you can take the dinner tray, I'm going to go to bed.
—Do you want one of us to stay? Mary asked. In
case you decide to send for the prince? I saw the hope
in his eyes, but I couldn't humor him.
-No. I need to rest. I'll see Maxon in the morning.
It felt strange to go to bed knowing there was
something left to resolve between Maxon and me, but at
that moment I wouldn't have known what to say to him.
It did not make sense. We had already been through
many ups and downs
together, for too many attempts to make sense of that
relationship. And it was clear that, if we were going to
achieve it, we still had a long way to go.
They woke me up rudely before dawn. The light
from the hallway flooded my room. I rubbed my eyes
just as a guard entered.
"Lady America, please wake up," he said.
-What's happening? —I asked, yawning.
—There is an emergency. We need you to come
down. Suddenly my blood ran cold. My family was
dead: I knew it. Guards had been sent; they had warned
the relatives; but the rebels were too many. The same
had happened to Natalie, who upon returning home had
become an only child, after the rebels had killed her
younger sister. None of our families were safe. I threw
the sheets aside and grabbed the robe and slippers. I ran
down the hallway and down the stairs as fast as I could,
slipping twice. I was about to fall.
When I got to the ground floor, Maxon was there,
engaged in a conversation with a guard. I rushed in his
direction, forgetting everything that had happened the
previous two days.
-They are fine? I asked, trying not to cry. What have
they done to them?
-That? —Maxon responded, giving me an
unexpected hug.
-My parents and my brothers. They are fine? Maxon
pulled me away, grabbed my arms, and looked me in
the eyes.
—They're fine, America. Sorry, I should have
thought that's the first thing that would come to mind.
The relief was so enormous that I almost wanted to
cry.
"There are rebels in the palace," Maxon added,
somewhat confused.
-That? —I exclaimed—. And why don't we take
refuge?
—They haven't come to attack us.
"Then why are you here?"
Maxon sighed.
—They are just two rebels from the North camp.
They are unarmed and have specifically asked to speak
with me… and with you.
-Because I?
-I'm not sure; but I'm going to talk to them, so I
thought I should give you a chance to talk to them too,
if you want.
I looked at myself and ran my hand through my hair.
—I'm in a bathrobe.
"I know," he said, smiling, "but this is very informal."
No problem.
—Do you want me to talk to them?
—That's up to you, but I'm curious why they want to
talk to you in particular. I'm not sure if they'll want to
talk to me if you're not there.
I nodded and considered what that meant. She
wasn't sure she wanted to talk to the rebels. Whether
they were armed or not, if they became aggressive I
wouldn't be able to defend myself. But if Maxon thought
I could do it, maybe I should…
"Okay," I said, pouting. OK.
"You will not be harmed, America." I promise you.
—He still had my hand. He pressed my fingers a little.
He turned to the guard. Forward. But have your
weapon ready, just in case.
"Of course, your highness," he replied, escorting us
to a corner of the Great Hall, where two people were
standing, surrounded by other guards.
It didn't take me more than a few seconds to spot
Aspen among the group.
"Can you tell your attack dogs to stand down?"
—asked one of the rebels. He was tall, thin and blonde.
His boots were covered in mud, and his attire looked
like that of a Seven: a pair of crude pants tied with rope
and a patched shirt under a worn leather jacket. He
wore a rusty compass around his neck, hanging from a
long chain that swung as he moved. He had a tough
appearance, but not threatening. That was not what I
expected.
Even more surprising was that his companion was a
girl. She was also wearing boots, but she gave the
impression that she took care of her appearance, despite
being
dressed in patches: she woreleggings and a skirt of the
same material as the man's pants. She cocked her hips
in a posture that denoted self-confidence, despite being
surrounded by guards. Even if he hadn't recognized her
by her face, that jacket was unmistakable. Denim and
cropped, covered with dozens of embroidered flowers.
 To make sure I remembered her, she nodded at me. I
responded with a sound halfway between a laugh and a
gasp.
-What's happening? Maxon asked.
—I'll tell you later.
Surprised but calm, he squeezed my hand to reassure
me and returned his attention to our visitors.
"We have come to speak in peace," the man said. We
go unarmed. Your guards have frisked us. I know it may
seem inappropriate to ask for a little privacy, but we
have things to discuss with you that no one else should
hear.
—And America? Maxon asked.
—We also want to talk to her.
—To what end?
"I insist," said the young man, with an almost
petulant tone, "on being at least a certain distance from
these men, so that they do not hear us." —And he
pointed with his arm around the perimeter of the room.
-If you think you can hurt him...
"I know you don't trust us, and you have reasons for
that, but we have no reason to hurt either of you." We
want to talk.
Maxon debated for a minute.
"You," he ordered, addressing one of the guards, "put
down one of the tables and place four chairs around it."
And then all of you move away; Leave some space for
our visitors.
The guards obeyed. For a few minutes we
maintained an awkward silence.
When they finally took the table down from the pile
in the corner and placed two chairs on either side,
Maxon gestured for the couple to accompany us there.
As we walked, the guards backed away without
saying a word, forming a perimeter around the room
and without taking their eyes off the two.
rebels, as if they were ready to open fire at any
moment.
When we reached the table, the man held out his
hand.
"Don't you think we should introduce ourselves?"
Maxon stared at him, but relented.
—Maxon Schreave, your sovereign.
The young man clicked his tongue.
 —It is an honor, sir.
-And who are you?
—Mr. August Illéa, at your service.
Chapter 6

MAxon and I looked at each other. Then we look at

the rebels.
—You heard me correctly. I am an Illéa. From birth.
And she will be by marriage, sooner or later,” August
said, indicating the girl with a nod of his head.
“Georgia Whitaker,” she introduced herself. And of
course, we all know who you are, America. He smiled
at me again, and I responded with the same gesture. I
wasn't sure if I trusted her, but I certainly didn't hate
her.
—So my father was right. —Maxon sighed. I stared
at him, confused. Did Maxon know there were
descendants of Gregory Illéa out there? He already told
me that you would come one day to claim the crown.
"I don't want his crown," August replied. "That's fine
with me, because I intend to rule this country," Maxon
replied. I have been raised for it. If you think you can
introduce yourself here claiming to be Gregory's
great-great-great-grandson...
—I don't want your crown, Maxon! —August repeated,
going on to address him. Destroying the monarchy is
rather the objective of the southern rebels. Our goals
are different. —August approached the table and sat
down. Then, as if he were the host, he waved us to the
chairs, inviting us to take a seat.
We looked at each other and sat with him. Georgia
did the same. August stared at us for a moment,
scrutinizing us or trying to decide where to start.
Maxon, perhaps to remind us who was in charge
there, broke the ice:
—Would you like some tea or coffee?
-Coffee? —Georgia responded, as if a switch had
been flipped.
Maxon couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm,
turning and calling for a guard.
"Can you ask one of the maids to bring coffee,
please?" "And make sure it's well loaded," he said. Then
he looked back at August. I can't even imagine what you
want from me. If you have come at night, you will want
to keep this visit as secret as possible. Say what you
have to say. I can't promise that I will give you what
you ask for, but
I will listen.
August nodded and walked over.
—We've been searching for Gregory's diaries for
decades. We have known of its existence for a long
time, and we have recently received confirmation from
a source I cannot reveal. —August looked at me—. It
wasn't because of the presentation you gave at
theReport, in case you were wondering.
I sighed in relief. As soon as I mentioned the diaries,
I had already started silently cursing myself for it. Now
Maxon would have one more thing to add to the
nonsense under my belt.
"We have never wanted to abolish the monarchy," he
told Maxon. Even if he were born in such a corrupt
way, we have no problem with having a sovereign
leader, particularly if that leader is you.
Maxon didn't flinch, but I could tell he was proud of
that.
-Thank you.
 —What we want are other things, specific freedoms.
We want democratically appointed public positions and
the end of castes. —August said
that as if it were something simple. If I had seen how
my presentation had been uploaded to theReport, I
wouldn't have said it so cheerfully.
"You act as if I'm already the king," Maxon replied
helplessly. Even if it were possible, I cannot give you
what you ask for.
—But are you open to the idea?
Maxon raised his hands and let them fall back onto
the table, leaning forward.
—Whether he is or not is irrelevant right now. I'm
not the king.
August sighed and looked at Georgia. They seemed
to communicate without words. I was impressed by
their level of rapport. There they were, in a very tense
situation—one that they had gotten into with no
guarantee of being able to get out again—and their
feelings were still there, very tangible.
"And speaking of kings," Maxon added, "why don't
you explain to America who you are?" I'm sure you'll do
it better than me.
I knew that this was Maxon's maneuver to give
himself time, to regain control of the situation, but I
didn't care. I was dying to know.
August gave a smile that was not at all amused.
"It's an interesting story," he responded, with a
decision in his voice that made it clear that this would
have a meaning. As you know, Gregory had three
children: Katherine, Spencer and Damon. Katherine was
married to a prince, Spencer died and Damon was the
one who inherited the throne. So when Damon's son
Justin died, his cousin Porter Schreave became prince
by marrying Justin's young widow, who had won the
Selection just three years earlier. And now the
Schreaves are the royal family. There should be no one
left from the Illéa. But there are us.
-Us? Maxon asked, his tone calculated, as if he
expected to find out the exact amount.
August just nodded. The sound of heels announced
the arrival of the maid. Maxon put a finger to his lips,
as if August was going to say something else before the
maid left. The young woman left the tray on the table
and poured coffee for everyone. Georgia immediately
grabbed her cup and handed it to him to fill. Me
It wasn't that I really liked coffee—I found it too
bitter—but I knew it would help keep me awake, so I
accepted a cup.
Before I could raise it to my lips, Maxon placed the
sugar bowl in front of me. As if he knew he was going
to need it.
—Did you say? said Maxon, taking a sip of his
unsweetened coffee.
"Spencer didn't die," August answered. He knew
what his father had done to take control of the country,
he knew that his sister had practically been sold to a
man he hated, and he knew that the same was expected
of him. He couldn't do it, so he ran away.
—And where did it go? -I asked for. It was the first
thing he said.
—He hid with family and friends, and ended up
forming a camp in the north with people who thought
like him. It is colder there, it is wetter, and it is so
difficult to find one's way that no one ventures into the
region. So we live quietly most of the time.
 Georgia nudged him, with a gesture of surprise.
in the face.
"I suppose I just gave you the necessary instructions
to invade us," August reacted. I just want to remind you
that we have never killed any of your officers or staff,
and that we avoid injuring them at all costs. The only
thing we have always wanted is to put an end to caste.
To do that, we need proof that Gregory was the man we
were always told he was. Now we have them, and
America made it so clear that we thought we could
exploit it if we wanted to. But that is not what we want
to do. Unless strictly necessary.
Maxon drained his cup and set it on the table. —To
tell the truth, I don't know what I'm supposed to do
with that information. You are a direct descendant of
Gregory Illéa, but you do not want the crown. You have
come to request something that only the king can give
you, and yet you ask for an audience with me and one
of the Elite girls. My father isn't even here. "We know,"
August said. We have chosen the moment.
Maxon snorted.
—If you don't want the crown and you only ask for
things that I can't give you, why have you come?
 August and Georgia looked at each other, perhaps
preparing the biggest request of all.
—We have come to ask you for these things because
we know that you are a reasonable man. We have
watched you all our lives, and we see it in your eyes. I
see it in these very moments.
I tried not to show it, but I stayed watching Maxon's
reaction to those words. —You don't like castes either.
You don't like how your father runs the country, with
an iron fist. You don't want to fight wars that you know
are nothing more than a distraction. More than
anything in the world, what you want is peace.
“We assumed that once you are king, things might
change. And we have waited a long time for it. We are
willing to wait even longer. The northern rebels are
determined to give you their word never to attack the
palace again and to do what we can to stop or hinder
the movements of the
southern rebels. We see many things that you cannot
see from behind these walls. We could swear loyalty to
you, without hesitation, if you show us that you are
willing to work with us towards a future that finally
gives the people of Illéa the opportunity to live their
own lives.
Maxon didn't seem to know what to say, so I did the
talking. —And what do the southern rebels want? Kill
us all?
August made a movement with his head that was
neither a denial nor an agreement.
—Partly it will be that, I'm sure, but only so as not
to have opposition. There is too much oppressed
population. They are an emerging group that has
decided they could be the ones to run the country.
America, you are a Five; I know you've met a lot of
people who hate the monarchy.
Maxon looked at me discreetly. I nodded slightly. -Of
course. Because when you're at the bottom, your only
option is to blame those above. In this case they have a
good reason for doing so: after all, it was a One who
sentenced them to a life without hope. The
Leaders of the southern rebels have convinced their
disciples that the way to recover what they consider to
be theirs is to take it from the monarchy. But there have
been people who have broken away from the southern
rebels and aligned themselves with us. And I know that
if the southerners get power, they have no intention of
sharing the wealth. Who has done it throughout
history?
—They want to raze Illéa, take power, make a bunch
of promises, and leave everyone exactly where they are
now. I'm sure for most people things will get worse. The
Sixes and Sevens will not improve, except for a select
few that the rebels will manipulate in order to stage
their maneuver. Everything will be taken from Twos
and Threes. That will make a lot of people feel
vindicated, but it won't fix anything.
—If there are no pop stars who publish those songs
that numb the senses, there are no backing musicians,
no record label employees, or salespeople in record
stores. Removing a person at the top from the middle
destroys
to thousands who are in an inferior position. August
paused briefly. You could see how worried he was in his
face.
—It will be the same as with Gregory again, only
worse. The southerners are willing to spill as much
blood as necessary, and the chances of the country
rising against them again are minimal. It will be the
same old oppression, with a new name…, and your
people will suffer like never before,” he said, looking
Maxon in the eyes. It seemed that there was a certain
understanding between them, something that perhaps
was typical of those born to rule.
—All we need is a sign. Then we will do everything
we can to change things, fairly and peacefully. Your
people deserve a chance.
Maxon looked down at the table. I couldn't imagine
what he was thinking.
—What kind of signal? he asked hesitantly. Money?
"No," August said, almost laughing. We have many
more funds than you can
imagine
—And how is it possible?
"Donations," he replied, simply.
Maxon nodded, but that surprised me. "Donations"
meant that there were people—who knew how
many—who supported them. What size would the
northern rebel forces have, counting all those people
who supported them? What proportion of the country
was asking for exactly what those two had come to
demand?
—If it's not money, what do you want? Maxon
finally asked.
August nodded toward me. —Choose her.
I buried my face in my hands, sure of Maxon's
reaction.
There was a long silence before he lost his
composure:
—I'm not going to accept anyone telling me who I
can and can't marry! I won't let you play with my life!
I looked up just in time to see how
August stood up.
—The royal house has been playing with the lives of
others for years. Grow up, Maxon. You are the prince.
Do you want your damn crown? Well, keep it. But it is a
privilege that carries a series of responsibilities.
The guards had been approaching cautiously, alerted
by Maxon's tone and August's aggressive attitude. Of
course, at that distance they were sure to hear
everything.
 Maxon also stood up, facing August. —You are not
going to make decisions about my life. And period.
Undeterred, August took a step back and crossed his
arms.
-Very good! We have another option, if this doesn't
work.
-Who?
August looked at the sky.
—Yes, of course, I'm going to tell you. After seeing
how you've reacted...
—Suéltalo.
—Whether it is this or the other matters little. The
only thing we need to know is that you choose a
partner who is in
harmony with this plan.
"My name is America," I replied angrily, standing up
and looking him in the eyes, "not this one." I am not a
toy or another piece of your trashy revolution. You are
full of words saying that everyone in Illéa should have
the opportunity to live their life. What about me? And
my future? Doesn't that count?
I looked into their eyes, waiting for a response, but
they remained silent. I noticed that the guards
surrounded us, ready to react at any moment.
"I'm in favor of ending caste," I continued, lowering
my voice, "but I'm no one's toy." If you're looking for a
puppet, there's a girl up there so in love with him that
she'd do whatever you asked if it meant she was going
to get him to propose to her. And the other two...,
whether out of a sense of duty or ambition, would also
lend themselves. Go find one of them.
I turned around, without waiting for them to
respond, and walked out of there, angrily, as quickly as
my robe and slippers would allow me.
-America! Wait! —Georgia said. He caught up with
me when I had already gone through the door. Wait a
minute.
-That?
-We're sorry. We thought you were in love. We were
not aware that we were asking for something that
would be opposed. We were sure we could count on
him.
—You don't understand. He is tired of being
manipulated and told what to do. You have no idea of
​everything he's been through. —I felt the tears in my
eyes; I blinked them away, staring at the drawings on
Georgia's jacket.
"We know more than you think," she replied. Maybe
not everything, but a lot. We have been following the
National Team very closely, and it seems that you two
get along very well. He seems very happy when he is
with you. And, furthermore…, we know that you
rescued your maidens.
It took me a second to realize what he meant. Who
would have told him?
—And we saw what you did for Marlee. We saw how
you fought And then your presentation, a few days ago.
He stopped and laughed. You certainly put value into it.
We couldn't go wrong with a brave girl.
"I wasn't trying to play heroin," I replied, shaking my
head. Most of the time I don't feel brave at all.
-And? The important thing is not how you feel about
your character. The important thing is what you do
with it. You, more than others, act by trying to do the
right thing before thinking about what it will mean for
you. Maxon has some great candidates waiting for him,
but none of them would get their hands dirty to make
things better. They are not like you.
—To a large extent they have been selfish gestures.
Marlee was important to me, and so are my maids.
Georgia stepped forward.
—But did those actions have consequences? -Yeah.
—And you probably knew they would have them.
But you acted in defense of those who could not defend
themselves. That's special, America.
I wasn't used to that kind of praise. Yes to
that my father told me that I sang very well or that
Aspen told me that I was the most beautiful girl he had
ever seen, but... that? I didn't know how to react.
—The truth is that, with some of the things you've
done, it's hard to believe that the king has allowed you
to stay. Everything aboutReport… —He let out a
whistle.
"He got really angry," I said, unable to help but
laugh.
—I don't know how you got out alive!
—Well, by the skin of your teeth, of course. And
most days I feel like I'm just seconds away from
expulsion.
—But Maxon likes you, right? He protects
you… I shrugged.
—There are days when I feel very safe, and others
when I have no idea. Today is not a good day. Nor was
it yesterday. Not even the day before yesterday, to tell
the truth. She nodded.
—Well, in any case, we support you. "Me
and someone else," I corrected her.
"That's true," he replied, but he didn't give me any
clue about his other favorite.
—What was that bow for in the forest? Did you want
to make fun of me?
She smiled.
"I know it may not seem like it, the way we act
sometimes, but we really care about the royal family." If
we lose them, the southern rebels will win. And if they
take control... well, you heard August. —He shook his
head—. In any case, I was sure I was facing my future
queen, so I thought the minimum was a bow.
His reasoning was so silly that it made me laugh
again.
 —You don't know how nice it is to talk to a girl I'm
not competing with.
—Are you tired already, huh? —he asked, with a
gesture of complicity.
—As the group has been reduced, things have gotten
worse. I mean, I knew it would be like that, but... it's
like it's no longer about being Maxon's chosen one, but
about making sure he doesn't opt ​for the other girls. I
don't know if that makes much sense.
"Yes, it does," he said, nodding. But hey,
When you showed up, you already knew it.
I clicked my tongue.
-Not really. The truth is that they… encouraged me
to present myself. I didn't want to be a princess.
-Really?
-Really.
"Well the fact that you don't want the crown
probably makes you the best person to wear it," he
replied with a smile.
I stared at her. Those huge eyes convinced me that
he had no doubt about what he was saying. I wanted to
ask more questions, but Maxon and August emerged
from the Great Hall, looking surprisingly calm. A single
guard followed them at a distance. August looked at
Georgia as if he regretted having been away from her
for even a minute. Perhaps that was the only reason the
two of them had come.
—Are you okay, America? Maxon asked. "Yes," I
answered, again unable to look him in the eye.
—You should go get ready to start the day—
He suggested-. The guards are sworn to secrecy, and I
would like you to do the same.
-Of course.
He seemed annoyed with the coldness of my
response, but how was I supposed to act?
—Mr. Illéa, it has been a pleasure. "We'll talk again
soon," Maxon said goodbye, holding out his hand.
August shook it immediately.
—If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask us. We
are on your side, your highness.
-Thank you.
—Let's go, Georgia. Some of these guards seem
trigger-happy.
She giggled.
 —See you, America.
I nodded, certain that I would never see her again,
which made me sad. She walked past Maxon and took
August by the hand. They left through the main door of
the palace followed by a guard. Maxon and I were left
alone in the hallway.
He looked me in the eyes. I muttered something,
pointed up, and set off. His reaction when
asking him to choose me had only increased the pain
that his words the day before in the library had caused
me. I thought that after the shelter thing we had
reached a certain level of understanding. However, it
seemed that everything had become even more
complicated than at the beginning, when I was trying to
decide whether I liked Maxon enough or not.
I didn't know what that meant for us. Or if it was
still worth worrying about that "we."
Chapter 7

MI headed to my room in a hurry, but Aspen was

faster. That shouldn't have surprised me. He knew the
palace so well that it probably didn't require any effort.
 -Hey! —I greeted him, not quite sure what to
say. He immediately hugged me and then
walked away.
-That is my girl.
-Oh yeah? —I said, smiling.
—You've put them in their place, Mer. Risking her
life, Aspen ran a thumb over my cheek. You deserve to
be happy. We all deserve it.
-Thank you.
He smiled and dropped his hand, moved the bracelet
that Maxon had brought me from New Asia and reached
further, until he touched the one I had made with a
button he had given me. His eyes saddened as he
looked at our small garment.
—One of these days we will talk. Really. We have to
solve many things.
With that, he continued down the hallway. I sighed and
I brought my hands to my face. Would he have taken
that reaction of mine as a definitive rejection of Maxon?
Would you think I wanted us to make things right
again?
On the other hand... hadn't she just rejected Maxon?
Didn't you think just a day before that you didn't want
to lose Aspen?
And if so, why did it seem like everything was going
so wrong?

In the Women's Room there was a horrible

atmosphere. Queen Amberly was sitting, writing letters;
From time to time he would look up at the four of us.
Since the day before, we were all trying to avoid doing
anything that required us to interact with each other.
Celeste had settled on a couch with a pile of magazines.
In a very clever move, Kriss had grabbed her diary and
started writing in it, placing herself close to the queen
once again. Why wouldn't it have occurred to me to do
it? Elise had taken out a collection of pencils and was
drawing something by the window. I
He was in a large armchair near the door, reading a
book.
The way we were situated, we didn't even have to
establish eye contact.
I tried to concentrate on the words in front of me,
but I couldn't help but think about who the northerners
would want as a princess if they couldn't get it to be
me. Celeste was very popular, and it would be easy to
get people to pay attention to her. I wondered if they
were aware of how manipulative she could be. If they
knew things about me, maybe they knew that too. Were
there things about Celeste that I didn't know?
Kriss had a sweet nature and, according to the latest
poll, was one of the public's favorites. She didn't come
from a very noble family, but she had more of a
princess than any of the others, a special air. Maybe
that was her great attraction: she wasn't perfect, but she
was charming. Sometimes even I would like to give him
my support.
The one he had the least suspicion of was Elise. He
had admitted that he didn't love Maxon and that he was
there out of a sense of duty. I assumed that, when he
spoke of
duty, he meant to his family or his homeland, New Asia,
not to the northern rebels. Other than that, she was
most stoic and calm. There was nothing rebellious about
him.
And that was what suddenly made me think that
maybe I was his favorite. She seemed the least willing
to compete, and had had no problem admitting her
indifference toward Maxon. Maybe she didn't even need
to try, because she had a lot of followers willing to
support her until she got the crown.
"That's enough," the queen said suddenly. “Come all
here,” he ordered. He moved his table away and we all
approached, nervous. Something happens here. What is
it?
We look at each other; no one wanted to say it.
Finally, the always impeccable Kriss spoke for everyone:
—Your Highness, we just realized how intense this
competition is. Now we are a little more aware of our
position with respect to the prince, and it is difficult for
us to assimilate it: right now we don't really want to
chat with each other.
The queen nodded, understanding.
—How often do all of you think about
Natalie? -asked.
Natalie had left just a week ago. I thought about her
almost every day. I also thought about Marlee
constantly, and also, from time to time, one of the other
girls.
"Always," Elise answered, her voice quiet. He was so
happy! —he said, with a smile on his lips. I had always
thought that Natalie made Elise nervous, because Elise
was very reserved, while Natalie had an expansive
nature. But maybe it was one of those cases where
opposites attract.
"Sometimes we laughed at the silliest things," he
added. His laugh was contagious.
"Exactly," replied the queen. I have been in your
position. I know how difficult it is. You analyze all your
movements and all of his. You turn over every
conversation, trying to read between the lines. It's
exhausting.
It was like a weight was lifted off our shoulders.
Someone understood us.
—But you have to know that, no matter how great
the tension is between you now, it is going to hurt every
time.
once one leaves. No one will ever understand this
experience like the other girls who have gone through
it, especially the Elite ones. You may fight, but so do
sisters. “These girls,” he said, pointing to one after
another, “are the ones you'll call almost every day for
the first year, when you're terrified of making a mistake
and looking for support. When you celebrate these, they
will be the names you will put at the top of your guest
list, just below the names of your family members.
Because that's what you are now. You will never lose
this relationship.
We look at each other. If I ended up being a princess
and ran into a problem where I needed a rational
perspective, I would call Elise first. If I fought with
Maxon, Kriss would remind me of all the good things
about him. And Celeste… well, I wasn't so sure, but if
anyone was going to advise me to toughen up in the
face of adversity, it would surely be her.
"So take your time," he continued. Get used to what
you are. And relax. It is not you who choose him; It is
he who chooses you. No