Kiera Cass - The Crown

“Uh … how romantic?”

He laughed. “No, really, it kind of is. Usually I get excited about designing skyscrapers and homeless shelters, things that someone might remember, or might help people. But the other day I found myself designing you a summerhouse, a miniature palace, maybe something with a vineyard. This morning I got an idea for a beach house.”

I gasped. “I’ve always wanted a beach house!”

“Not that we’d ever get to use it with you running the world and all.”

“It’s a sweet thought all the same.”

He shrugged. “It just seems like everything I want to make lately is something for you.”

“That means a lot. I know how important your work is to you.”

“It’s not really my work. Something that I care about is all.”

“Okay, then. How about for now we just add this to that pile? This is something we care about, and we both know it, and we’ll watch it and see what happens.”

“That’s fair. I don’t want to discourage you at all, but it feels too soon to call this love.”

“Absolutely!” I agreed. “It’s too soon, and that’s too big.”

“Too busy.”

“Too scary.”

He laughed. “On par with being dethroned?”

“At least!”

“Wow. Okay.” He continued to smile, probably considering the unlikelihood of us falling for each other himself. “So, what now?”

“I continue the Selection, I think. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I have to keep going. I have to be certain.”

He nodded. “I wouldn’t want you if you weren’t.”

“Thank you, sir.”

We stood there, the sound of the wind in the grass the only noise.

He cleared his throat. “I think we need food.”

“As long as I don’t have to cook it.”

He threw his arm around my shoulder as we turned back to the palace. It felt like a very boyfriendish thing to do. “But we did so great last time.”

“All I learned about was butter.”

“Then you know everything.”

In the morning I headed straight down to the hospital wing, desperate to see Mom’s face. Even if she was asleep, I just needed to be reminded she was alive and healing. But when I cracked open the door this time, she was sitting up, wide awake … and Dad was asleep. Smiling, she held up a finger to her lips. With her other hand she traced gentle lines through his hair as he lay spilled out of his chair and onto her bed, one arm beneath his head and the other across her lap.

I quietly walked to the other side of the bed to kiss her cheek.

“I keep waking up in the night,” she whispered, giving me a little squeeze. “All these tubes and things are bothering me. And every time, he’s awake, watching me. It does me good to see him sleep.”

“Me, too. He’s been looking a little rough.”

She smiled. “Eh. I’ve seen him worse. He’ll make it through this, too.”

“Have the doctors checked on you yet?”

She shook her head. “I asked them to come again once he’s rested a little. I’ll get back to my room soon enough.”

Of course. Of course the woman who just had a heart attack could spare getting herself to a more comfortable place so her husband could take a nap. Seriously, even if I did find someone, could it ever compare to them?

“How are you doing? Is everyone being helpful?” Mom continued to run her hand through Dad’s hair.

“I fired Coddly. I don’t think I told you yesterday.”

She stilled, staring intently. “What? Why?”

“Oh, no big deal. He just wanted to go to war.”

She covered her mouth, trying not to laugh at how cavalierly I discussed invasion. A second later she stopped smiling at all and moved both of her hands to her chest.

“Mom?” I asked too loudly. Dad’s head instantly shot up.

“Darling? What’s wrong?”

Mom shook her head. “It’s just the stitches. I’m fine.”

Dad settled back into his seat but sat up, done with sleep for the moment. Mom tried to start up the conversation again, doing anything to take the focus off herself.

“How about the Selection? How are things going there?”

I paused. “Umm, okay, I think. I haven’t had a lot of time to spend with the boys, but I’m going to work on that. Especially since there’s a Report coming up.”

“You know, honey, no one would fault you for calling it off. You’ve been through a lot this last week, and you’re acting as regent. I’m not sure you should be trying to balance all this.”

“They are very nice boys,” Dad offered, “but if it’s taking too much of your focus …”

I sighed. “I think we need to stop dancing around the fact that I am not the most beloved member of this family. At least not to the general public. You say no one would fault me, but I feel very confident they would.” Mom and Dad shared a look, seeming to want to refute this but not wanting to lie at the same time. “If I’m going to be queen one day, I need to win the people over.”

“And you think finding a husband is the way to accomplish that?” Mom asked suspiciously.

“Yes. It’s all about their perception of me. They think I’m too cold. The most absolute way to refute that would be to get married. They think I’m too masculine. The most absolute way to refute that is to be a bride.”

“I don’t know. I’m still very hesitant about you continuing.”

“Need I remind you that this Selection was your idea?”

She sighed.

“Listen to your daughter,” Dad said. “Very smart girl. Gets it from me.”

“Don’t you want some more sleep?” she asked flatly.

“No, I’m feeling very refreshed,” he said. I wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to continue the conversation or if he felt he needed to keep his attention on Mom. Either way, he was clearly lying.

“Dad, you look like death punched you in the face.”

“You must get that from me, too.”

“Dad!”

He laughed, and Mom did, too, her hand going back to put pressure on her chest.

“Look! Your terrible jokes are now life threatening. You have to stop them.”

He shared a smile with Mom. “Go do what you need to do, Eadlyn. We will support you in whatever way we can.”

“Thank you. Both of you, please get some rest.”

“Ugh, she’s so bossy,” Mom lamented.

Dad nodded. “I know. Who does she think she is?”

I looked back at them one last time. Dad gave me a wink. No matter who was against me today, at least I had them.

I left them and strode upstairs to the office, shocked to find a beautiful bouquet of flowers on my desk.

“Someone thinks you’re doing a good job, huh?” Neena remarked.

“Or they think I’ll die from the stress and wanted to beat everyone to the punch,” I joked, not sure I wanted to admit how happily surprised I was.

“Lighten up. You’ve been doing great.” But Neena’s eyes weren’t even on me. They had zoomed in on the card.

I tucked it close to my chest as she whined, and lifted the note just enough so I could read it.

You looked a little down when we parted the other day. Wanted today to start on a happier note. I’m here for you.—Marid

I smiled and passed it to Neena, who sighed before turning back to look at the huge bouquet.

“Who are those from?” General Leger asked, coming in the door.

“Marid Illéa,” I replied.

“I heard he stopped by. Was he just bringing gifts or did he need something?” the general asked, skepticism painting his tone.

“Oddly enough, he was making sure I didn’t need something. He offered to give me a helping hand with the public. He knows a lot more about people living their lives in the wake of the castes than I do.”

General Leger joined me beside the table and stared at the extravagant arrangement. “I don’t know. Things didn’t exactly end well between your family and his.”