THE QUEEN’S FAMILY STAYED A few days, and the visitors from Swendway an entire week. They did a segment on the Report discussing international relations and movements toward more peace for both nations.
It was now a month into my stay at the palace, and I was completely at home. My body was comfortable in the new climate. The warmth of the palace was heavenly, like a holiday. September was almost over, and it got very cool in the evenings, but it was much warmer than home. The sights of this giant space were no longer a mystery. The sounds of heeled shoes on marble, crystal glasses clinking, guards marching—they were starting to become as normal as the refrigerator humming or Gerad kicking a soccer ball up against the house.
Meals with the royal family and times in the Women’s Room were staples in my routine, but the middle moments of my days were always new. I spent a lot of time working on music; the instruments at the palace were far superior to the ones I had at home. I had to admit, they were making me spoiled. The quality of the sound was unimaginably better. And the Women’s Room had gotten a little more exciting, as the queen had shown up at least twice now. She hadn’t really spoken to anyone yet, but she sat in a comfortable chair with her maids at her side, watching as we read or conversed.
In general, the animosity had settled as well. We were getting used to one another. We finally found out the magazine’s top picks for our photographs. I was shocked to see I was one of the front-runners. Marlee was in the top spot, with Kriss, Tallulah, and Bariel close behind. Celeste didn’t talk to Bariel for days upon hearing this, but eventually everyone let it pass.
What still seemed to bring the most tension were the bits of information tossed around. Whoever had been with Maxon recently couldn’t help but gush about their little interlude. The way everyone spoke, it seemed as if Maxon was going to be choosing six or seven wives. But not everyone was shining in this experience.
For instance, Marlee had more than a few dates with Maxon, which put everyone on edge. Still, she never came across as excited as she had after their very first one.
“America, if I tell you this, you have to swear not to tell a soul,” she said as we walked in the garden. I knew it was something serious. She’d waited until we got away from the listening ears in the Women’s Room and far beyond the eyes of the guards.
“Of course, Marlee. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I just… I need your opinion on something.” Her face was heavy with worry.
“What’s wrong?”
She bit her lip. “It’s Maxon. I’m not sure it’s going to work out.” She looked down.
“What makes you think that?” I asked, concerned.
“Well, for starters, I don’t… I don’t feel anything, you know? No spark, no connection.”
“Maxon can be a little shy is all. You have to give him time.” This was true. I was surprised she didn’t know that about him.
“No, I mean, I don’t think I like him.”
“Oh.” That was something very different. “Have you tried?” What a stupid question.
“Yes! So hard! I keep waiting for a moment to come when he’ll say or do something to make me feel like we have something in common, but it never happens. I think he’s handsome, but that’s not enough to build a whole relationship on. I don’t even know if he’s attracted to me. Do you have any idea what kind of things he, you know, likes?”
I thought about it. “No, actually. We’ve never talked about what he’s looking for in the physical department.”
“And that’s another thing! We never talk. He talks on and on to you, but we never seem to have anything to say. We spend a lot of our time quietly watching something or playing cards.”
She looked more worried by the minute.
“Sometimes we’re quiet together, too. Sometimes we just sit and say nothing. Besides, feelings like that don’t always happen overnight. Maybe you’re both just taking it slow.” I tried to sound reassuring—Marlee looked like she was on the verge of tears.
“Honestly, America, I think the only reason I’m still here is because the people like me so much. I think their opinions matter to him.”
That thought hadn’t occurred to me, but it sounded plausible. Long ago, I’d dismissed their opinion, but Maxon loved his people. They’d have more of a hand in choosing the next princess than they would know.
“And besides,” she whispered, “everything between us feels so … empty.”
Then the tears came.
I sighed and hugged her. Truthfully, I wanted her to stay, to be here with me, but if she didn’t love Maxon…
“Marlee, if you don’t want to be with Maxon, I think you need to tell him.”
“Oh, no, I don’t think I can.”
“You have to. He doesn’t want to marry someone who doesn’t love him. If you don’t have any feelings for him, he needs to know.”
She shook her head. “I can’t just ask to leave! I need to stay. I couldn’t go home … not now.”
“Why, Marlee? What’s keeping you here?”
For a moment, I wondered if Marlee and I shared the same dark secret. Maybe there was someone she needed distance from, too. The only difference in our situations was that Maxon knew about mine. I wanted her to say it! I wanted to know I wasn’t the only one who’d ended up here out of some ridiculous circumstances.
But Marlee’s tears stopped almost as quickly as they started. She sniffed a few times and straightened up. She smoothed out her day dress, squared her shoulders, and turned to face me. She pulled a strong, warm smile to her face and spoke.
“You know what? I bet you’re right.” She started to back away. “I’m sure if I just give it some time, it’ll all work out. I have to go. Tiny’s expecting me.”
Marlee half ran back to the palace. What in the world had come over her?
The next day, Marlee avoided me. The day after that, too. I made a point of sitting in the Women’s Room at a safe distance and making sure to acknowledge her whenever we crossed paths. I wanted her to know that she could trust me; I wouldn’t make her talk.
It took four days for her to give me a sad, knowing smile. I just nodded. It seemed that would be all there was to say about whatever was going on in Marlee’s heart.
That same day, while I was sitting in the Women’s Room, Maxon called for me. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t absolutely giddy when I ran out the door and into his arms.
“Maxon!” I breathed, falling into him. When I stepped back, he sort of fumbled a moment, and I knew why. The day we’d left the Swendway reception and went inside to talk, I confessed what a hard time I was having dealing with the way I felt. And I asked him not to kiss me until I was more certain. I could tell he was hurt, but he nodded and hadn’t broken his promise yet. It was just too hard to decipher those feelings when he acted like he was my boyfriend, but clearly wasn’t.
There were still twenty-two girls here after Camille, Mikaela, and Laila had been sent home. Camille and Laila were simply incompatible and left with very little fanfare. Mikaela got so homesick she burst into heaving sobs during breakfast two days later. Maxon escorted her from the room, patting her shoulder the whole way. He seemed fine with letting them go, and was happy to focus on his other prospects, myself included. But he and I both knew it would be foolish of him to invest his heart completely in me when even I wasn’t sure where mine was.
“How are you today?” he asked, stepping back.
“Perfect, of course. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“The president of the Infrastructure Committee is sick, so the meeting was postponed. I’m free as a bird all afternoon.” His eyes were gleaming. “What do you want to do?” he asked, holding his arm out for me.
“Anything! There’s so much of the palace I still haven’t seen. There are horses here, right? And the movie theater. You still haven’t taken me there.”
“Let’s do that. I could use something relaxing. What kinds of movies do you like best?” he asked as we started walking toward where I guessed the stairwell to the basement was.