The Queen: A Novella Read online

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Dr. Mission said, throwing in a quick bow for good measure.

  “Excellent. Now, is Lady Amberly in good health? Can she go to her room to rest in comfort?”

  “I’ll have a nurse check her vitals at once.”

  Clarkson waved his arm, and the doctor left.

  “Can you believe he had the nerve? I should get rid of him anyway.”

  I placed my hand on Clarkson’s chest. “No. No, please don’t hurt him.”

  He smiled. “I meant that I’d send him away, find a suitable position for him elsewhere. Many of the governors like having private doctors. He’ll do well in something like that.”

  I sighed in relief. So long as no one died.

  “Amberly,” he whispered. “Before he told you, did you know you might be unable to have children?”

  I shook my head. “I worried. I’ve seen it happen to others where I live. But both my oldest siblings are married, and they have babies. I hoped I would be able to, too.”

  My voice hitched, and he hushed me. “Don’t worry about any of that now. I’ll come check on you later. We need to talk.”

  He kissed my forehead, there in the hospital wing where anyone could see. All my worries disappeared, if only for the moment.

  CHAPTER 11

  “I HAVE A SECRET FOR you.”

  I awoke to Clarkson whispering in my ear. It was as if my body just knew to respond to him, and I wasn’t even startled. Instead, I was gently stirred by his voice, and it was the sweetest way to wake up in the world.

  “Do you?” I rubbed my eyes and looked at his impish smile.

  He nodded. “Shall I tell you?” I giggled in reply, and he bent his head again to my ear. “You are going to be the next queen of Illéa.”

  I pulled back to see his face, searching for any hint of this being a joke. But, truly, I’d never seen him calmer.

  “Do you want me to tell you how I know?” He seemed pleased with himself, to have surprised me so.

  “Please,” I breathed, still not believing his words.

  “I hope you’ll forgive my little tests, but I’ve known for a long time what I was looking for.” He shifted in the bed, and I sat up so we were facing each other. “I liked your hair.”

  Instinctively, I touched it. “What do you mean?”

  “There was nothing wrong with it when it was long. I asked several girls to cut their hair, and you were the only one who gave me more than an inch.”

  I stared, dumbfounded. What did that mean?

  “And the night I came to you for our first date . . . do you remember that?” Of course I did. “I came late, when I knew you’d be ready for bed. You asked about getting changed, but when I said no, you didn’t argue. You came with me, just as you were. The others shoved me into the hallway to wait while they dressed. I give them credit for being fast, but still.”

  I considered both of these things for a moment and confessed. “I don’t understand.”

  He reached for my hand. “You’ve seen my parents. They war over nonsense. They are concerned to death with appearances. And while that is important for the sake of the country, they let it come between any sort of peace they could have, let alone happiness.

  “If I ask you for something, you give it to me. You aren’t vain. You’re secure enough with yourself to put me before your looks, before anything. I know that from how you receive any request I’ve ever given you. But it’s more than that. . . .”

  He took a deep breath and stared at our hands, as if he was debating telling me.

  “You’ve kept my secrets, and I assure you, if you marry me, there will be scores more to keep. You don’t judge me, or seem startled by much. You’re soothing.” His gaze traveled up to my eyes. “I’m desperate for peace. I think you might be the only chance I have at that.”

  I smiled. “The center of your storm?”

  He exhaled, looking relieved. “Yes.”

  “I would be happy to be that for you, but there’s one small problem.”

  He scrunched his head. “Your caste?”

  I’d forgotten all about that. “No. Children.”

  “Oh, that,” he said, almost sounding as if he thought it was a joke. “I don’t care one way or the other.”

  “But you have to have an heir.”

  “For what? To carry on the line? You’re speaking of giving me a son. Suppose we managed to have one child and that child was a girl. There would be no chance of her getting the crown. Don’t you think there are backup plans?”

  “I want children,” I mumbled.

  He shrugged. “No guarantee you won’t get them. Personally, I’m not fond of children. I guess that’s what nannies are for.”

  “And your home is so vast you’d never hear one raise their voice.”

  Clarkson chuckled. “True. So, no matter what, that is not an issue for me.”

  He was so calm, so unconcerned, that I believed him, and the weight of all that worry fell off me. My eyes welled up, but I didn’t allow myself to cry. I would save the tears for later, when I was alone.

  “The true issue for me is your caste,” he confessed. “Well, not for me so much as for my father. I’ll need time to work out the proper way to address that, which means the Selection could go on for quite some time. But take heart,” he said as he leaned in close, “you will be my wife.”

  I bit my lip, too happy to believe this was real.

  He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You will be the only thing in this world that is truly mine. And I will put you on a pedestal so high, it will be impossible for anyone not to adore you.”

  I shook my head, dizzy with joy. “I don’t know what to say.”

  He kissed me quickly. “Practice saying yes. When the time comes, I want you to be ready.”

  We leaned our foreheads into each other and stayed quiet for a moment. I couldn’t believe this was real. He’d said all the words I’d ever hoped to hear: queen, wife, adore. The dreams I’d stored in my heart were actually coming true.

  “You should go back to sleep. That attack today was one of the cruelest ones yet. I want you to fully recover.”

  “As you wish,” I said.

  He ran a finger down my cheek, pleased with my response. “Good night, Amberly.”

  “Good night, Clarkson.”

  I tucked myself back into bed as he left, but I knew there was no way I’d be able to sleep now. How could I with my heart beating double time and my mind running through every possibility of our future?

  I slowly rose and went over to my desk. I could think of only one way to get this out of my system.

  Dear Adele,

  Can you keep a secret?

  EXCERPT FROM THE FAVORITE

  While America Singer’s heart was torn between Aspen and Prince Maxon, her friend Marlee knew exactly what she wanted—and paid the price.

  Read on for a sneak peek!

  CHAPTER 1

  I PULLED THE TOP LAYERS of my dress a little tighter over my shoulders. Carter was quiet now, and his silence sent deeper chills through my body than the lack of heat in the palace cells did. It had been horrific to hear his grunts of pain as the guards beat the hope out of him, but at least then I knew he was breathing.

  I shivered as I drew my knees closer to my chest. Another tear slid down my cheek, and I was grateful for it if only because it was warm on my skin. We knew. We knew it could end this way. And still we met. How could we have stopped?

  I wondered how we would die. A noose? A bullet? Something much more elaborate and painful?

  I couldn’t help wishing that Carter’s silence meant he was already gone. Or if not, that he would go first. I’d rather have my last memory be of his death than suffer knowing that his last memory was of mine. Even now, alone in this cell, all I wanted was for his pain to stop.

  Something stirred in the hallway, and my heart started racing. Was this it? Was this the end? I shut my eyes quickly, trying to hold back my tears. How had th
is happened? How had I gone from being one of the beloved members of the Selection to being labeled a traitor, awaiting my punishment? Oh, Carter . . . Carter, what have we done?

  I didn’t think I was a vain person. Still, nearly every day after breakfast, I felt like I had to go back to my room and touch up my makeup before heading to the Women’s Room. I knew it was silly—Maxon wouldn’t even see me again until the evening. And at that point, of course, I’d reapply all my makeup and change my outfit anyway.

  Not that anything I was doing seemed to be having much of an effect. Maxon was polite and friendly, but I didn’t think I had a connection with him the way some of the other girls did. Was there something wrong with me?

  While I was certainly having a wonderful time in the palace, I kept feeling like there was something the other girls—well, some of them at least—understood that I didn’t. Before being Selected, I had thought that I was funny and pretty and smart. But now that I was in the middle of a bunch of other girls whose daily mission was to impress one particular boy, I felt dim and dull and less. I realized I should have paid much more attention to my friends back home who had always seemed to be in a rush when it came to finding a husband and settling down. They had spent their time talking about clothes, and makeup, and boys—while I had paid more mind to my tutors’ lectures. I felt like I had missed some important lesson, and now I was woefully behind.

  No. I merely needed to keep trying, that was all. I’d memorized everything from Silvia’s history lesson earlier this week. I’d even written some of it down to keep handy if I forgot something. I wanted Maxon to think that I was smart and well-rounded. I also wanted him to think I was beautiful, so it felt like these trips to my room were necessary.

  Did Queen Amberly do this? She seemed effortlessly stunning all the time.

  I paused on the stairs to look at my shoe. One of the heels seemed to be snagging on the carpet. I didn’t see anything, so I moved on, eager to get to the Women’s Room.

  I flicked my hair over my shoulder as I approached the first floor and went back to focusing on whether there was more that I was supposed to be doing. I really wanted to win. I hadn’t spent much time with Maxon, but he seemed kind and funny and—

  “Ahh!” My heel snagged on the edge of the stair, and I fell with a smack onto the marble floor. “Ow,” I muttered.

  “Miss!” I looked up to see a guard running toward me. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Nothing injured but my pride,” I said, blushing.

  “I don’t know how ladies walk in those shoes. It’s a miracle the whole lot of you don’t have broken ankles all the time.”

  I giggled as he offered me his hand.

  “Thank you.” I started brushing my hair back and smoothing out my dress.

  “Any time. You’re sure you aren’t hurt?” He looked me over anxiously, searching for scrapes or cuts.

  “My hip hurts a little where I fell, but otherwise I feel perfect.” Which was true.

  “Maybe we should take you to the hospital wing, just to be safe.”

  “No, really,” I insisted. “I’m fine.”

  He sighed. “Would you do me a favor and go anyway? If you were hurt and I didn’t do something to help, I’d feel awful about it.” His blue eyes were terribly convincing. “And I’d be willing to bet the prince would want you to go.”

  He made a fair point. “All right,” I ceded. “I’ll go.”

  He grinned, his smile ever so slightly crooked. “Okay then.” He scooped me up, and I gasped in shock.

  “I don’t think I need this,” I protested.

  “All the same.” He started walking, so I couldn’t get down. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re Miss Marlee, right?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  He kept grinning, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’ve been working hard to keep all of you straight. Honestly, I don’t think I was the best in training, and I have no idea how I ended up in the palace. But I want to make sure they don’t regret their decision, so I’m trying to at least learn names. That way if someone needs something, I’ll know who they’re talking about.”

  I liked the way he spoke. It was as if he was telling a story, even though he was simply stating a fact about himself. His face was animated and his voice alight.

  “Well, you’re already going above and beyond,” I encouraged. “And don’t be so down on yourself. I’m sure you were an excellent trainee if you were placed here. Your commanders must have seen great potential in you.”

  “You’re too kind. Will you remind me where you’re from?”

  “Kent.”

  “Oh, I’m from Allens.”

  “Really?” Allens was just east of Kent, above Carolina. We were neighbors in a way.

  He nodded as he walked. “Yes, ma’am. This is the first time I’ve ever been out of my province. Well, second if you count training.”

  “Same here. It’s kind of hard getting used to the weather.”

  “It is! I’m waiting for fall to kick in, but I’m not sure they even have fall here.”

  “I know what you mean. Summer’s nice, but not every day.”

  “Exactly,” he said firmly. “Can you imagine how silly Christmas must look?”

  I sighed. “It can’t possibly be as good without snow.” I meant that. I dreamed about winter all year. It was my favorite season.

  “Nowhere close,” he agreed.

  I didn’t know why I was smiling so much. Maybe it was because this conversation felt so easy. I’d never had an easy time speaking to a boy. Admittedly, I hadn’t had a lot of practice, but it was nice to think that maybe I didn’t need as much work as I had thought.

  As we approached the entrance of the hospital wing he slowed.

  “Would you mind putting me down?” I asked. “I don’t want them thinking I’ve broken a leg or something.”

  He chuckled. “Not at all.”

  He set me down and opened the door for me. Inside, a nurse was sitting at a desk.

  The officer spoke for me. “Lady Marlee took a little tumble in the hall. Probably nothing, but we just wanted to be safe.”

  The nurse stood right up, looking happy to have something to do. “Oh, Lady Marlee, I hope you’re not too hurt.”

  “No, just a little sore here,” I said, touching my hip.

  “I’ll check you out right away. Thank you so much, officer. You can go back to your post.”

  The guard tipped his head to her and started to leave. Just before the doors closed, he gave me a wink and a crooked smile, and I was left there, grinning like an idiot.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PHOTO BY ROBBIE POFF

  KIERA CASS is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Selection series, as well as the self-published fantasy novel The Siren. She is a graduate of Radford University and currently lives in Christiansburg, Virginia, with her family. Kiera has kissed approximately fourteen boys in her life. None of them were princes. You can learn more about Kiera’s books, videos, and love of cake online at www.kieracass.com.

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  BOOKS BY KIERA CASS

  The Selection

  The Elite

  The One

  The Selection Stories: The Prince & The Guard

  COPYRIGHT

  THE QUEEN. Copyright © 2014 by Kiera Cass. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

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© November 2014 ISBN 9780062351203

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