The One. Кира Касс

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      “Go straight to your rooms,” Maxon said gently. “Dinner will be brought up, and I’ll be visiting you all soon.”

      As I walked past them, the king put a single finger on my arm, and in that small gesture, I knew he meant for me to stop.

      “That wasn’t very smart,” he said.

      I shrugged. “What we’re doing isn’t working. Keep this up and you won’t have anyone left to rule over.”

      He flicked his hand, dismissing me, fed up with me again.

      Maxon quietly knocked on my door, letting himself in. I was already in my nightgown, reading in my bed. I’d begun to wonder if he was going to come at all.

      “It’s so late,” I whispered, though there was no one to disturb.

      “I know. I had to speak with all the others, and it’s been extremely taxing. Elise was very shaken. She’s feeling particularly guilty. I wouldn’t be surprised if she left in the next day or two.”

      Even though he’d expressed his lackluster feelings for Elise more than once, I could see just how much this hurt him. I curled my legs to my chest so he could sit.

      “What about Kriss and Celeste?”

      “Kriss is almost too optimistic. She’s sure that people will be careful and protect themselves. I don’t see how that’s possible if there’s no way to tell when or where the rebels will attack next. They’re all over the country. But she’s hopeful. You know how she is.”

      “Yeah.”

      He sighed. “Celeste is fine. She’s concerned, of course; but as Kriss pointed out, the Twos are most likely to be the safest during all this. And she’s always so determined.” He laughed to himself, staring at the floor. “Mostly she seemed concerned that I would be upset with her if she stayed. As if I could hold it against her for choosing this over going home.”

      I sighed. “It’s a good point. Do you want a wife who isn’t worried about her subjects being threatened?”

      Maxon looked at me. “You’re worried. You’re just too smart to be worried the way everyone else is.” He shook his head and smiled. “I can’t believe you told them to fight.”

      I shrugged. “It seems like we do a whole lot of cowering.”

      “You’re absolutely right. And I don’t know if that will scare the rebels off or make them more determined, but there’s no doubt you changed the game.”

      I cocked my head. “I don’t think I’d call a group of people trying to kill the population at random a game.”

      “No, no!” he said quickly. “I can’t think of a word bad enough to call that. I meant the Selection.” I stared at him. “For better or worse, the public got a real glimpse into your character tonight. They can see the girl who drags her maids to safety, who stands up to kings if she thinks she’s right. I’ll bet everyone will look at you running after Marlee in an entirely different light now. Before this, you were just the girl who yelled at me when we met. Tonight, you became the girl who’s not afraid of the rebels. They’ll think of you differently now.”

      I shook my head. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”

      “I know. For all the planning I was doing to get you to show the people who you are, it turns out you just do it on an impulse. It’s so you.” There was a look of astonishment in his eyes, as if he should have been expecting this all along. “Anyway, I think it was the right thing to say. It’s about time we did more than hide.”

      I looked down at my bedspread, tracing the seams with my finger. I was glad he approved, but the way he spoke—as if it was one more of my little quirks—felt too intimate at the moment.

      “I’m tired of fighting with you, America,” he said quietly. I looked up and saw the sincerity in Maxon’s eyes as he continued. “I like that we disagree—it’s one of my favorite things about you, actually—but I don’t want to argue anymore. Sometimes I have a bit of my father’s temper. I fight it, but it’s there. And you!” he said with a laugh. “When you’re upset, you’re a force!”

      He shook his head, probably remembering a dozen things at the same time I did. A knee to the groin, the whole thing with the castes, Celeste’s busted lip when she talked about Marlee. I’d never thought of myself as temperamental, but apparently I was. He smiled, and I did, too. It was kind of funny when I thought about all my actions piled up like that.

      “I’m looking at the others, and I’m being fair. It makes me nervous to feel some of the things I do. But I want you to know, I’m still looking at you, too. I think you know by now I can’t help it.” He shrugged, seeming so boyish at that moment.

      I wanted to say the right thing, to let him know that I still wanted him to look at me. But nothing felt right, so I slid my hand into his. We sat there quietly, looking at our hands. He toyed with my two bracelets, seeming very concerned with them, and spent a little while rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. It was nice to have a still moment, just the two of us.

      “Why don’t we spend the day together tomorrow?” he asked.

      I smiled. “I’d like that.”

      

      “SO, LONG STORY SHORT: MORE GUARDS?”

      “Yeah, Dad. Lots more.” I laughed into the phone, though the situation was hardly a funny one. But Dad had a way of making the toughest things light. “We’re all staying. For now anyway. And even though they say they’re starting with Twos, don’t let anyone be careless. Warn the Turners and the Canvasses to stay safe.”

      “Aw, kitten, everyone knows to be careful. After what you said on the Report, I think people will be braver than you’d guess.”

      “I hope so.” I looked down at my shoes and had a funny flashback. Right now my feet were covered with jeweled heels. Five months ago they were wearing dingy flats.

      “You made me proud, America. Sometimes I’m surprised at the things you say, but I don’t know why. You were always stronger than you knew.”

      Something about his voice then was so genuine that I was humbled. No one’s opinion of me mattered as much as his.

      “Thanks, Dad.”

      “I’m serious, now. Not every princess would say something like that.”

      I rolled my eyes. “Uh, Dad, I’m not a princess.”

      “Matter of time,” he shot back playfully. “Speaking of which, how is Maxon?”

      “Good,” I said, fidgeting with my dress. The silence grew. “I really like him, Dad.”

      “Yeah?”

      “Yeah.”

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