“I’m sorry,” I whispered once she was out of earshot. “It has nothing to do with you two. She’s just terrible.”
“No offense taken,” Erik replied honestly. He conversed back and forth for a moment with Henri in Finnish, presumably catching him up on what just happened.
“Pardon me. I need to speak with someone, but I’ll see you at dinner.” I curtsied and left them, searching for any sort of retreat.
I’d been totally thrown off by that interview earlier, and I was proud that I pulled myself back together in the aftermath. But Josie had the ability to ruffle me without fail.
I saw Mom alone and rushed over to her, hoping for some solace. Instead I was greeted by a glare similar to Ahren’s when I’d first come in.
“Why didn’t you tell us that was what you were going to do?” she asked quietly, holding a smile as if nothing was wrong.
I did the same as I answered. “I thought it would be good. That’s what Dad did.”
“Yes, but he did it on a much smaller scale and privately. You put their shame on display. No one will admire you for that.”
I huffed. “I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t realize.”
She put an arm around me. “I don’t mean to be hard on you. We know you’re trying.” Just then a photographer came up to get a candid photo of us talking. I wondered what the headline for that one would be? Something about the Selected teaching the Selector maybe.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
She looked around the room, double-checking that no one could hear. “Just . . . consider a little romance. Nothing scandalous, for goodness’ sake,” she added quickly. “But watching you fall in love . . . that’s what the people want to see.”
“I can’t make that happen. I can’t—”
“America, dear,” Dad called. It looked like Osten had spilled something on himself, and Mom rushed over to lead him away.
I would have bet money that whatever just happened was a deliberate attempt on Osten’s part to get out of the room.
I stood there alone, trying to be inconspicuous as I scanned the room. Too many strangers. Too many eyes watching and waiting for me to perform. I was ready for the Selection to be over about four hours ago. I took a deep breath. Three months would buy me freedom. I could do this. I had to.
I walked across the room deliberately, knowing who I needed to speak to. Once I found him, I leaned in and spoke in his ear.
“Come to my room. Eight o’clock sharp. Tell no one.”
CHAPTER 12
I PACED AS I WAITED for the knock to come. Kile was really the only person I could trust with this task, though I was loath to ask him. I was prepared to strike a bargain, but I wasn’t sure what I could offer him yet. I felt confident he’d have his own ideas.
The raps on the door were quiet, and I could almost hear the question in them: What am I doing here?
I pulled the door open and there, right on time, was Kile.
“Your Highness,” he said with a comical bow. “I’ve come to sweep you off your feet.”
“Hardy har. Get in here.”
Kile walked in and surveyed my shelves. “Last time I was in your room, you had a collection of wooden ponies.”
“Outgrew that.”
“But not being a bossy tyrant?”
“Nope. Just like you didn’t outgrow being an insufferable bookworm.”
“Is this how you win over all your dates?”
I smirked. “More or less. Sit down. I have a proposition for you.”
He spotted the wine I’d provided and wasted no time in pouring himself a glass. “You want some?”
I sighed. “Please. We’ll both need it.”
He paused, eyeing me before continuing. “Now I’m nervous. What do you want?”
I took my glass, trying to remember how I wanted to explain this to him. “You know me, Kile. You’ve known me my whole life.”
“True. In fact, I was thinking yesterday that I have a vague recollection of you running around in nothing but a diaper. It was a good look.”
I rolled my eyes and tried not to laugh. “Anyway. You, to some degree, understand my personality, who I am when the cameras aren’t rolling.”
He sipped, contemplating my words. “I think I understand you when they’re on as well, but please continue.”
I hadn’t thought about that, how he’d seen me go through the many phases of growing up, both on and off screen. There was a switch I had to flip when I was on display, and he knew it. “The Selection wasn’t my idea, but it’s something I need to put my best effort into. I think I am, personally. But the public expects me to be a giddy little girl next to all of you, and I don’t think I can do that. I can’t act stupid.”
“Actually—”
“Don’t!”
He smiled wickedly and took another sip of his wine.
“You’re such a pain. Why am I even bothering?”
“No, go on, you don’t want to act stupid.” He set down his glass and leaned forward.