The Crown (The Selection #5)

“I didn’t see the kiss, but I was there for the aftermath. I just grabbed him, and we ran.”


My stomach hurt from laughing, and it took a while for it to wear out of our systems. When we finally calmed down, I realized something. “I don’t know anyone who’s had a really good first kiss.”

After a second he answered. “Me neither. Maybe it’s not the first kisses that are supposed to be special. Maybe it’s the last ones.”





I STOOD STILL AS NEENA placed pins down the back of my coronation gown. It was a showstopper, with a sweetheart neckline and a full skirt all in gold. The cape was a little heavy, but I only had to wear that in the church. While I had chosen this gown out of the three that had been offered to me, it probably wasn’t what I’d have worn if I’d had time to design the dress myself. Still, everyone sighed when they saw it, so I bit my tongue and was grateful.

“You look beautiful, darling,” Mom said as I stood on a raised platform in front of huge mirrors that had been brought to my room especially for this fitting.

“Thanks, Mom. How do you think it compares with yours?”

She chuckled. “My coronation dress was also my wedding dress, so there’s no comparison. Your gown is perfect for the occasion.”

Neena chuckled as I touched the embroidery on the bodice. “It’s definitely the most ostentatious dress I’ve ever worn.”

“And just think, you’ll have to one-up yourself when you get married,” Neena joked.

My smile faded. “True. That’ll be a challenge, huh?”

“You okay?” she asked, looking at me in the mirror.

“Yes. A little tired is all.”

“I don’t care what else happens this week, you need to rest,” Mom ordered. “Saturday is going to be long, and you’ll be at the center of it all.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I watched her fiddling with her necklace. “Mom? What do you think you would have done if you couldn’t have married Dad? Like, if it got to the end and he chose someone else?”

She shook her head. “He very nearly did. You know about the massacre.” She swallowed, pausing for a minute. After all this time it was still hard for her to go back there. “That day he might have gone down an entirely different path, which meant I would have, too.”

“Would you have been okay though?”

“Eventually,” she said slowly. “I don’t think either of us would have lived a life that was bad necessarily. It just might not have been the best it could have been.”

“But you wouldn’t have been completely miserable the rest of your life?”

She studied my face in the mirror. “If you’re worried about letting your suitors down, you can’t focus on that.”

I pressed my hands to my stomach, holding the dress tight as Neena worked. “I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be by this point.”

“It’ll become clear. Trust me. And your father and I will support you in whatever choice you make.”

“Thank you.”

“I think this is finally coming together,” Neena commented, stepping back to appraise her work. “If you’re happy, you can take it off, and I’ll have the courier send it back to Allmond.”

Mom nibbled on some apple slices. “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t let you do the sewing. He trusts you to fit it.”

She shrugged. “I just follow orders.”

A quiet knock on the door drew our attention. “Come in,” Neena called, falling into her old role. I wished she could just run my entire life for me. Everything felt easier with her around.

A butler entered and bowed. “Pardon me, Your Highness. There’s some confusion about the suit for one of the gentlemen.”

“Which one?”

“Erik, miss.”

“The translator?” Mom asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I’m coming,” I said, following him out the door.

“Don’t you want to take off the gown?” Neena asked.

“It’ll give me a chance to practice walking in it.”

And it did. It was incredibly heavy, and a little hard to navigate down the stairs. I’d need sturdier heels.

As I approached Erik’s room, I could hear him imploring someone to reconsider. “I am not an Elite. It would be inappropriate.”

I pushed the door open wider, finding him in a suit with chalk lines down the sides and pins in the hem.

“Your Highness,” the tailor said, immediately dropping into a bow.

Erik, however, stared and stared, unable to look away from the dress.

“We’re having a problem coming to terms with his suit, miss.” The tailor motioned to the chalked-up suit.

Erik regained his composure. “I don’t want to confuse anyone by wearing a suit that matches what the Elite are wearing.”

“But you will be walking in the procession, and there will be scores of pictures,” the tailor insisted. “Uniformity is best.”

Erik looked at me, his eyes pleading.

I pressed my fingers to my lips, considering. “Could you give us a moment, please?”

The tailor bowed again and exited, and I crossed to stand in front of Erik.