The Heir (The Selection #4)

He was crestfallen. “I don’t know how this happened, Eadlyn. I’m sorry.”


“I’m the one who should be sorry. Baden exaggerated things, but the barest points of his story were real. And with the mayor, I said those things out loud, it’s true. But I was simply venting about the work of it all. Ask Mom; she was there. Everything got twisted around.”

“I already spoke to her, honey, and I’m not upset with you. I just can’t understand why Milla would do that. It’s like everyone is taking aim at us right now. . . .” He kept opening his mouth like he wanted to say more, but he was so confused by the overwhelming unhappiness of the public, he didn’t know where to start.

“I’m trying, Dad, but I don’t think it’s good enough. Which made me wonder if maybe we wanted to try something different.”

He shrugged. “I’m up for most anything at the moment.”

“Let’s switch the focus. No one trusts me right now. Let’s bring Camille in for a visit and let people see how in love Ahren is with her. He always does much better in the spotlight. I can come in and talk about their influence on me, and then we can pick up with the Selection shortly after, try to blend one love story into another.”

He stared at his desk, contemplating. “I don’t know where you get some of your ideas, but that’s inspired, Eadlyn. And I think Ahren will be beside himself. Let me make a call and see if she can even come before we say anything, all right?”

“Absolutely.”

“I want you to plan a party for her. You two should know each other better than you do.”

As if I didn’t have anything else to worry about. “I’ll start at once.”

He picked up the telephone, and I went back to my room, hoping this would be enough to get things back on the right track.





CHAPTER 30


TWO DAYS LATER I WAS standing on the tarmac next to my giddy brother, who was holding an obnoxiously large bouquet in his hands.

“Why don’t you get me flowers like that?”

“Because I’m not trying to impress you.”

“You’re worse than those boys back at the palace,” I said, shaking my head. “She’s going to be the queen of France. Girls like us are hard to amaze.”

“I know.” He looked idiotically happy. “Guess I’m just lucky.”

The stairs lowered from the plane, and two guards came down before Camille. She was a willowy thing, blond and petite, with a face that looked eternally well rested and excited. In person and in print, I’d never seen her wearing anything that remotely resembled a frown.

There was protocol to follow, but Ahren and Camille bypassed it, running into each other’s arms. He held her tightly and kissed every corner of her face, ruining half of his flowers in the process. Camille laughed as he peppered her with affection, and I felt a little awkward standing there, waiting for it to end so I could say hello.

“I have missed you so!” she cried, her accent making each word sound like a surprise.

“I have so much to show you. I asked Mom and Dad to make you a permanent suite so you will always have the best room when you come.”

“Oh, Ahren! So generous for me!”

He turned, grinning from ear to ear, suddenly recalling my presence. “You remember my sister, of course.”

We curtsied to each other, and she rose elegantly. “Your Highness, so nice to see you again. I bring gifts for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes. Here is a secret,” she said, leaning in. “You can wear all of them.”

I perked up. “Wonderful! Maybe I’ll have to use some of it at the party I’m throwing for you tonight.”

She gasped and placed both hands on her chest. “For me?” She turned her blue eyes on Ahren. “Really?”

“Really.”

It was strange to see him with this look in his eyes, like maybe he was in the middle of an act of worship, prepared to sacrifice anything to please Camille.

“Your family is so good to me. Let’s go. I’m dying to see your mother.”

I tried to keep up with them on the ride back to the palace, but Ahren spoke mostly in French for her benefit, and since I had chosen to master Spanish, I was completely in the dark. Once we got home, Mom, Dad, Kaden, and Osten were all waiting on the front stairs for us. Positioned on the edges of the steps, trying to be inconspicuous, were several photographers.

Ahren exited first, holding out his hand to help Camille. When I scooted over and reached for him, it turned out he’d already run off with Camille, who was rushing into my mother’s arms.

Mom, Dad, and Kaden all knew French and were greeting her warmly. I walked over to Osten, who looked like he was itching to climb on something.

“What are you up to today?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Go find the Selected guys and ask them awkward questions. Report back.”

He laughed and went running.

“Where’s he off to?” Dad asked quietly.

“Nowhere.”

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