The Crown (The Selection #5)

“It does look rather sharp,” I said with a grin.

“It does,” he admitted. “I’m just not sure it’s proper.”

“What? To look nice for a day?”

“I’m not an Elite. It’s … confusing to have me standing with them, looking like them, when I can’t … I’m not …”

I put a hand on his chest. “The tailor is right. You will want to blend in. A different color of suit wouldn’t help your case here.”

He sighed. “But I’m—”

“What if your tie was a slightly different color?” I offered quickly.

“Is that my only option?”

“Yes. Besides, think of how much your mother will love this.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s so unfair. You win.”

I clapped my hands. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“Of course it was easy for you. You were the one giving the command.”

“I didn’t mean to command you, not really.”

He smirked. “Of course you did. You’re made for it.”

I couldn’t tell if that was a critique or a compliment. “What do you think?” I asked, holding out my arms. “I mean, you have to try to imagine it without all the pins.”

He paused. “You look breathtaking, Eadlyn. I couldn’t even remember what I was so worked up about when you first walked in.”

I fought the blush. “I’ve been wondering if it was too much.”

“It’s perfect. I can see it’s a little different from your usual style, but then again, your typical look isn’t meant to be coronation-day ready.”

I turned around and looked in the mirror. That one sentence made the whole thing so much better.

“Thank you. I think I’ve been overanalyzing it.”

He stood beside me. It was comical, these beautiful clothes, some of the best we’d ever wear, marked in chalk and held by pins. We looked like dolls. “That seems to be a talent of yours.”

I grimaced but nodded. He was right.

“I realize I’m in no position to tell you what to do,” he said, “but you seem to handle things much better when you think about them less. Get out of your head. Trust your gut. Trust your heart.”

“I’m terrified of my heart.” I didn’t mean to say those words out loud, but there was something about him that made this room, and this moment, the only place I could ever admit to the truth.

He leaned down by my ear and whispered, “There’s nothing there to fear.” He cleared his throat, then turned back to face our reflections. “Maybe what you need is a little luck. You see this ring?” he asked, holding out his pinkie.

I did. I’d noticed it a dozen times. Why would someone who dulled himself down and refused to put on a suit wear a piece of jewelry?

“This was my great-great-grandmother’s wedding ring. The weaving design is a traditional Swendish thing. You see it everywhere in Swendway.” He slipped off the ring and held it between two fingers. “This has survived everything from wars to famine, even my family’s move to Illéa. I’m supposed to give it to the girl I marry. Mom’s orders.”

I smiled, charmed by his excitement. I wondered if there was someone back home hoping to wear it someday.

“But it seems to have a lot of good luck,” he continued. “I think you could use some right now.”

He held out the ring to me, but I shook my head. “I can’t take that! It’s an heirloom.”

“Yes, but it’s a very fortunate heirloom. It’s guided several people to their soul mates. And it’s only temporary. Until you get to the end of the Selection, or Henri and I leave. Whichever happens first.”

Hesitantly, I slid the ring onto my finger, noting how smooth it was.

“Thank you, Erik.”

I looked into his blue eyes. It only took one charged second to hear the heart that I’d had so little faith in. It was taking in that piercing stare and the warm scent of his skin … and it was shouting.

Without considering the repercussions or the complications, without knowing if he felt anything similar to what I did, I leaned into him. And I was thrilled to find he wasn’t pulling away. We were so close I could feel his breath across my lips.

“Have we made a decision?” the tailor asked, springing back in.

I jerked away from Erik. “Yes. Please finish the suit for us, sir.”

Without looking back, I hurried into the hallway. My heart was racing as I found an empty guest room and darted inside, slamming the door behind me.

I had felt it growing, this feeling that had been hiding beneath the surface for some time now. I’d seen him, this person who never intended to be seen, and my faulty, silly, useless heart kept whispering his name. I clutched my chest, feeling my heart racing. “You treacherous, treacherous thing. What have you done?”

I’d wondered how it was possible to magically find a soul mate in a random group of boys.

But now I couldn’t question it.