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  Kriss piped up. “Remind me to be in your wedding party. I love presents!”

  “Me, too!” Marlee exclaimed.

  “Lady America, you’ve been awfully quiet,” Queen Amberly said. “What do you want at your wedding?”

  I blushed because I was completely unprepared to comment.

  There was only one wedding I’d ever imagined, and it was going to take place at the Province of Carolina Services Office after an exhausting amount of paperwork.

  “Well, the one thing I’ve thought about is having my dad give me away. You know when he takes your hand and puts it in the hand of the person you marry? That’s the only part I’ve ever really wanted.” Embarrassingly enough, it was true.

  “But everyone does that,” Celeste complained. “That’s not even original.”

  I should have been mad that she called me out, but I merely shrugged. “I want to know that my dad completely approves of my choice on the day it really matters.”

  “That’s nice,” Natalie said, sipping her tea and looking out the window.

  Queen Amberly laughed lightly. “I certainly hope he approves. No matter who it is.” She added the last words quickly, catching herself in the middle of implying that Maxon would be my choice.

  I wondered if she thought that, if Maxon had told her about us.

  Shortly after, the wedding talk died down, and the queen left to go work in her room. Celeste parked herself in front of the large television embedded in the wall, and the others started a card game.

  “That was fun,” Marlee said as we settled in at a table together. “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard the queen talk so much.”

  “She’s getting excited, I think.” I hadn’t mentioned to anyone what Maxon’s aunt had told me about how Queen Amberly tried many times for another child and failed. Adele had predicted that her sister would warm up to us once the group was smaller, and she was right.

  “Okay, you have to tell me: Do you honestly not have any other plans for your wedding or did you just not want to share?”

  “I really don’t,” I promised. “I have a hard time picturing a big wedding, you know? I’m a Five.”

  Marlee shook her head. “You were a Five. You’re a Three now.”

  “Right,” I said, remembering my new label.

  I was born into a family of Fives—artists and musicians who were generally poorly paid—and though I hated the caste system in general, I liked what I did for a living. It was strange to think of myself as a Three, to consider embracing teaching or writing as a profession.

  “Stop stressing,” Marlee said, reading my face. “You don’t have anything to worry about yet.”

  I was about to protest but was interrupted by a cry from Celeste.

  “Come on!” she yelled, slamming the remote against the couch before pointing it at the television again. “Ugh!”

  “Is it just me or is she getting worse?” I whispered to Marlee. We watched as Celeste hit the remote over and over before giving up and going to change the channel manually. I guessed if I had grown up as a Two, that would be something worth getting worked up over.

  “It’s the stress, I think,” Marlee commented. “Have you noticed that Natalie’s getting, I don’t know . . . more aloof?”

  I nodded, and we both looked over to the trio of girls playing their card game. Kriss was smiling as she shuffled, but Natalie was examining the ends of her hair, occasionally pulling out a strand she didn’t seem to like. Her expression was distracted.

  “I think we’re all starting to feel it,” I confessed. “It’s harder to sit back and enjoy the palace now that the group is so small.”

  Celeste grunted, and we peeked over at her but quickly averted our eyes when she caught us looking.

  “Excuse me for a moment,” Marlee said, shifting in her seat. “I think I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing. Do you want to go together?” I offered.

  Smiling, she shook her head. “You go ahead. I’ll finish my tea first.”

  “Okay. I’ll be back.”

  I left the Women’s Room, taking my time walking down the gorgeous hallway. I wasn’t sure I would ever get over how spectacular it was here. I was so distracted that I ran smack into a guard as I turned the corner.

  “Oh!” I said.

  “Pardon me, miss. Hope I didn’t startle you.” He held me by my elbows, helping me regain my footing.

  “No,” I said, giggling. “It’s fine. I should have been watching where I was going. Thanks for catching me. Officer . . .”

  “Woodwork,” he answered, giving me a quick bow.

  “I’m America.”

  “I know.”

  I smiled and rolled my eyes. Of course he knew.

  “Well, I hope the next time I run into you, it won’t be quite so literal,” I joked.

  He chuckled. “Agreed. Have a nice day, miss.”

  “You, too.”

  I told Marlee about my embarrassing run-in with Officer Woodwork when I got back and warned her to watch her step. She laughed at me and shook her head.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon sitting by the windows, chatting about home and the other girls as we drank in the sunshine.

  It was sad to think about the future just then. Eventually the Selection would be over, and while I knew Marlee and I would still be close, I would miss talking to her every day. She was the first real friend I’d ever made, and I wished I could keep her beside me all the time.

  As I tried to stay in the moment, Marlee gazed dreamily out the window. I wondered what she was thinking about; but everything was so peaceful, I didn’t ask.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PHOTO BY ROBBIE POFF

  KIERA CASS is a graduate of Radford University and currently lives in Blacksburg, Virginia, with her family. Her fantasy novel the siren was self-published in 2009. 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.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

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  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2013 by Kiera Cass

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