The Crown (The Selection #5)

“That’s really thoughtful.”


He shrugged. “I told you, I keep making things for you.”

The glimmer in his eyes was so boyish that for a moment I forgot we were on the verge of so many grown-up things.

“You also might want to think about setting up a radio station,” he commented.

“Ugh, why? The Reports are bad enough.”

“When I was taking classes in Fennley, my friends and I listened to the radio a lot. We would leave it on in the kitchen or while we worked, and any time we heard something interesting, we’d stop and listen and start our own discussion. It might be a good way for you to reach people. And it’s not quite as bad as having a camera in your face.”

“Interesting. I’ll think about it.” I touched the tips of his dirty fingers. “Did you work on anything else?”

He made a face. “Remember those little units I was talking about? I was trying to see if they could be built with an upstairs, for larger families. But looking at the materials I wanted to use, it doesn’t seem possible. The metal would be too thin. It would be helpful if I could actually build one and test it out. Maybe one day.”

I stared at him. “You know, Kile, princes rarely get their hands dirty.”

“I know.” He smiled. “It’s more something nice to think about than anything.” He shifted his weight and the conversation in one swift movement. “The papers looked good today.”

“Yeah. Now I just have to keep that momentum going. I have no idea how to re-create it though.”

“You don’t have to. Sometimes things just happen.”

“It would feel nice to not try to work at it all so much.” I yawned. Even a mostly good day was tiring.

“Do you want me to go so that you can get some rest?”

“Nah,” I said, settling in a little closer and rolling onto my back. “Can you stay here for a little while?”

“Sure.”

He held my hand, and we stared at the intricate painting on my ceiling.

“Eadlyn?”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I feel like I’d be doing better if I could go slower, but everything has to be now, now, now.”

“You could push the coronation back. Stay regent for a while. It’s practically the same thing.”

“I know, but it doesn’t feel the same. My dad was doing okay with me as regent, but even in the short time since we set a date for the coronation, he’s been much better. I know it’s all mental, but if it helps him sleep, which helps him with Mom, which helps her get better …”

“I see what you’re saying. But what else? You’re not rushing through the Selection, are you?”

“Not on purpose. It seems to be thinning itself out for me.”

“What do you mean?”

I sighed. “I can’t really say now. Maybe once everything’s settled.”

“You can trust me.”

“I know.” I leaned my head into his shoulder. “Kile?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember our first kiss?”

“How could I forget? It was printed on the front of every newspaper.”

“No, not that one. Our first first kiss.”

After a beat of confusion, he sucked in a huge breath. “Oh. My. Gosh.”

I just lay there laughing.

When I was four and Kile was six, he and I played together a lot. I still didn’t remember what made him start hating palace life or when our mutual dislike for each other kicked in, but back then Kile was like another Ahren. One day the three of us were playing hide-and-seek, and Kile found me. Instead of tagging me out, though, he bent down and kissed me full on the mouth.

I stood up and pushed him to the ground and swore to him that if he ever tried it again, I’d have him hanged.

“What four-year-old knows how to threaten someone’s life?” he teased.

“One who was raised to, I suppose.”

“Wait, is this your way of telling me you’re having me hanged? Because, if so, this is incredibly cold.”

“No.” I laughed. “I felt you deserved an apology by now.”

“It’s fine. Really funny years later. When people ask about my first kiss, I never say that one. I tell them it was the daughter of the Saudi prime minister. I guess that one was actually my second.”

“Why don’t you tell them about me?”

“Because I thought you might follow through on the hanging thing,” he joked. “I guess I just blocked it out. It wasn’t exactly a fantastic first kiss.”

I started giggling. “Mom told me that she was Dad’s first kiss, and she pretty much tried to back out of it.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah.”

Kile laughed. “Do you know about Ahren’s?”

“No.” But Kile was so tickled, I was in tears before he said a word.

“It was with one of the Italian girls, but he had a cold and—” He paused because he was laughing so hard. “Oh, man, he had to sneeze mid-kiss, so there was snot everywhere.”

“What?”