“Not a word, you understand?”
She nodded, but I could hardly bear to look at her. She seemed so sad for me, and of all people, I couldn’t stand her pitying me. But when I looked at Neena and Lady Brice, their expressions were just as bad.
I pulled myself up as tall as I could and left the room, remembering that, no matter what, I was still queen.
“WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” ERIK asked. I’d done my best to make it cozy, sneaking in with a basket full of candles and blankets midday, and another full of food when everyone left for dinner.
Erik said he was sick, I said I had work, and we met in an inconspicuous spot on the second floor. One of the easiest passages that led down to the massive safe room was by my mother’s old bedroom, the one she’d had during her Selection. Sometimes she took pilgrimages there, like it was the calmest place for her to be in the palace.
“Back when the rebels were a deadly threat, the royal family used to escape down here,” I told Erik as we made our way through the passage. “But this place hasn’t been used in well over a decade, and now I think it may be the palace’s best kept secret.”
“In other words, no one’s finding us,” Erik responded with a smile.
“Not if we don’t want them to.”
He took a deep breath. “I’ve felt so guilty today, torn between how excited I was about your invitation and how guilty I feel since I’m not even a choice.”
I nodded, pulling plates from the basket and setting them on top of the blankets. “I know. I’ve been cursing the Selection in ways I haven’t since my parents first mentioned it. And then I take it all back, because if it had never happened …”
We shared a long look. I broke it with a sigh, continuing to set out our candlelit picnic.
“You know, my father wasn’t supposed to marry my mother.”
“You’re kidding,” he said, joining me.
“Apparently my grandfather had handpicked the girls who came to compete. He only threw in three Fives to appease the lower castes, and he hated Mom from the get-go. On top of that, I found out my parents used to argue all the time.” I shrugged, still surprised by their rocky history. “I grew up thinking that they were a fairy tale, you know? It turns out they were just like anyone else. Somehow that makes it even more magical.”
I let the words hang, thinking of everything I knew now.
“They slow dance when it rains. I have no idea why, but every time the sky turns gray, you’ll find them together.” I smiled. “I remember once Dad barged into the Women’s Room, which is completely improper. You’re supposed to be invited in. But it was raining, and he wasn’t going to wait to sweep her away. And one time he dipped her in the hallway, and she just laughed and laughed. She was still wearing her hair down then, and I’ll never forget how it looked like a waterfall of red. It’s like no matter what happens, they can find themselves again there.”
“I know what you mean.” Erik eyed the bottle of red wine I’d snagged and grinned. “My parents find themselves over omenal?rtsy.”
I wrapped my arms around my knees, tucking my dress beneath me. “What’s that?”
“It’s like an apple doughnut. My mother made him a batch when they were dating, and it became their thing. When something good happens: omenal?rtsy. When they’re making up after a fight: omenal?rtsy. When it seems like a particularly wonderful Friday: omenal?rtsy.”
“How did they meet?”
“This will sound strange, but through bolts and screws.”
I squinted. “So … are they mechanics?”
“No,” he replied with a chuckle. “My parents have known each other basically their entire lives. They grew up in the same small town in Swendway. When they were eleven, some guys at school were picking on my dad, throwing his schoolwork in the mud. My mom was even smaller than him at the time, but she went right up and yelled at them and pulled my dad away.
“He was embarrassed, but she was enraged. She forced him into an alliance, and that night they met each other on a back road, ran to each of the three bullies’ houses, and stole the screws out of their bike wheels so they’d have to walk. For weeks after that, any time they saw that one of the bullies had replaced the screws, my mom and dad would go steal them. After a while the bullies gave up and walked.”
“I like your mom,” I said through bites of bread.
“Oh, you guys would get along great. She loves food and music and is on a constant hunt for a good reason to laugh. My dad, on the other hand— Well, if you think I’m shy, you should meet him. He’s much more comfortable with books than people, and it can take him a while to warm up to strangers. Anyway, my parents grew up, and because they were very different people, they ran in different circles. Boy after boy came by for my mother, while my dad was spending weekends in the library.
“When my dad got older, he bought a bike. And one morning he woke up and found the screws for his wheels were missing.”