He shrugged. “I’m not sure. But Hale’s so damned insistent on being true to yourself that, at the very least, I wouldn’t try to use someone like a screen to hide it, the way I tried to with you. It’s not fair to anyone.”
“It’s hard to be fair to yourself sometimes, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t compare our circumstances though. In the end, no one cares about me, and everyone cares about you.”
“Don’t be silly. I care about you. I cared about the swaggering snob who introduced himself that very first day.” He laughed, thinking back. Some of that veneer had slipped away. Not all of it, but I knew how hard it was to let walls down. “And I care about this nervous, gentle person in front of me now.”
Ean was not the type to cry. He didn’t swallow or blink or give any of the typical signs, but I sensed that if he’d ever been close to shedding a tear, it was right now.
“I’m so glad I get to see you be queen. Thank you, Your Majesty. For everything.”
“Any time.”
The song came to a close, and we bowed our heads to each other.
“Is it all right if I leave in the morning?” he asked. “I’d like to have some time with my family. To talk.”
“Of course. Stay in touch.”
He nodded and crossed the room, ready to begin his new life.
I’d done it. I’d made it through the day without doing anything humiliating, no one had protested, and I was still standing. It was over, and I could escape to the peace and quiet of my room.
And then when I was about to hit the side door, I saw Marid speaking in front of a camera.
He looked at me and lit up like a firework, waving me over to join in his interview. And while everything in me wanted to go and rest, his smile was so charming that I went to his side.
“HERE SHE IS, THE LADY of the hour,” he said, wrapping an arm around me as the interviewer giggled.
“Your Majesty, how are you feeling?” she asked, pointing the microphone at my face.
“Am I allowed to say tired?” I joked. “No, it’s been an incredible day, and with so many distressing things happening in our country recently, I certainly hope today will lift everyone’s spirits. And I’m very excited to get to work. Thanks to the wonderful young men in the Selection and friends, like Mr. Illéa here, I’ve gotten to know so much more about my people. I’m hoping we’ll be able to find ways to hear and address needs much more efficiently.”
“Can you give us any hints at what you’re planning to do?” she asked eagerly.
“Well, I think our town hall meeting, which was completely Marid’s idea,” I said, gesturing to him, “started off a bit rocky but was ultimately very informative. And Sir Woodwork actually had an interesting proposal recently about giving citizens a much easier way to petition the crown. I can’t say too much about it at the moment, but it was incredibly inspired.”
“Speaking of proposals,” she said excitedly, “any news on that front?”
I laughed. “Let me get through my first week as queen and then I’ll turn my focus back to dating.”
“Fair enough. And what about you, sir? Any words of advice for our new queen?”
I turned to face Marid, who shrugged and ducked his head. “I just wish her all the luck with her reign, and finishing her Selection. The guy who wins her heart will be luckier than he knows.”
Marid swallowed, seeming to have a hard time meeting the interviewer’s eyes again.
She nodded heartily. “He certainly will.” She turned to the camera and signed off, her attention no longer on us.
I took Marid’s arm and swung him around, moving us out of earshot. “I don’t want to be rude after all the kindness you’ve shown me, but behaving like that is inappropriate.”
“Like what?” he asked.
“Like you and I might have been something if only the Selection hadn’t happened. This is the third time I know of that you’ve said something like that, but I haven’t even seen you in years. I am duty and honor bound to marry one of my candidates, so acting wounded when we’ve had absolutely nothing together is unacceptable. I must insist that you stop it at once.”
“And why would I do that?” he said, his voice becoming slick.
“Excuse me?”
“If your family had been paying the slightest bit of attention to your people, you might have learned by now that when it comes to the public, I have an incredibly powerful voice. They treasure me. You should see the piles of fan mail I receive. Not everyone thinks the Schreave line is the valid one.”
I froze, terrified that there was truth to what he was saying.
“You owe me a lot, Eadlyn. I’ve kept you looking good in papers and spoken well of you in interviews, and I saved that town hall meeting. I did that, not you.”
“I could have—”
“No, you couldn’t. And that’s the problem. You can’t do this job alone. It’s nearly impossible, which is why you getting married is a wonderful idea. Only you’re looking in the wrong place.”
I was too stunned to speak.