I reached into the bowl and pulled out the first envelope. “From Likely,” I read, pausing to open it, “Mr. MacKendrick Shepard.”

I held up his photograph, and the room applauded as I set it in the other bowl and moved back for the next entry.

“From Zuni . . . Mr. Winslow Fields.”

There was a smattering of applause after every name.

Holden Messenger. Kesley Timber. Hale Garner. Edwin Bishop.

It felt like I had opened at least a hundred envelopes by the time my hands reached for the final one. My cheeks hurt, and I was hoping Mom wouldn’t judge me if I skipped dinner and ate alone in my room. I really thought I’d earned it.

“Ah! From Angeles.” I ripped at the paper, pulling out the final entry. I knew my smile must have faltered, but really, it couldn’t be helped. “Mr. Kile Woodwork.”

I heard the reactions around the room. Several gasps, a handful of laughs, but, most obviously, I could hear Kile’s reaction. He dropped his book.

I pulled in a breath. “There you have it. Tomorrow, advisers will be sent out to begin prepping these thirty-five candidates for the adventure before them. And, in one short week, they will arrive at the palace. Until then, join me in congratulating them.”

I began the applause, the room followed, and I retreated to my seat, trying not to look as sick as I felt.

Kile’s name being in there shouldn’t have shaken me the way it did. At the end of the day, none of those boys stood a chance. But something about this felt wrong.

The second Gavril finished signing off, everyone erupted. Mom and Dad walked to the Woodworks. I followed right behind them, Josie’s laughter acting as a homing beacon.

“I didn’t do it!” Kile insisted. As I approached, our eyes met. I could see he was as upset as I was.

“Does that even matter?” Mom said. “Anyone of age is allowed to put his name in.”

Dad nodded. “That’s true. It’s a bit of a strange situation, but there’s nothing illegal about it.”

“But I don’t want to be a part of this.” Kile looked at Dad imploringly.

“Who put your name in?” I asked.

Kile shook his head. “I don’t know. It has to be a mistake. Why would I enter when I don’t want to compete?”

Mom’s eyes were on General Leger, and it looked almost like they were smiling. But there wasn’t anything funny about this.

“Excuse me!” I protested. “This is unacceptable. Is anyone going to do anything about it?”

“Pick someone else,” Kile offered.

General Leger shook his head. “Eadlyn announced your name in front of the country. You’re the candidate from Angeles.”

“That’s right,” Dad agreed. “Reading the names publicly makes it official. We can’t replace you.”

Kile rolled his eyes. He did that a lot. “Then Eadlyn can eliminate me the first day.”

“And send you where?” I asked. “You’re already home.”

Ahren chuckled. “Sorry,” he said, noticing our glares. “That’s not going to sit well with the others.”

“Send me away,” Kile offered, sounding thrilled.

“For the hundredth time, Kile, you’re not leaving!” Miss Marlee said in the firmest voice I’d ever heard her use. She put her hand to her temple, and Mr. Carter wrapped an arm around her, speaking into her ear.

“You want to go somewhere else?” I asked, incredulous. “Isn’t a palace good enough for you?”

“It’s not mine,” he said, raising his voice. “And quite frankly, I’m tired of it. I’m over the rules, I’m over being a guest, and I’m so over your bratty attitude.”

I gasped as Miss Marlee thwacked her son over the head.

“Apologize!” she commanded.

Kile pressed his lips together, looking at the ground. I crossed my arms. He wasn’t leaving until I got an apology. I’d get it one way or another.

Finally, after a forceful shake of his head, he muttered it under his breath.

I looked away, hardly impressed with his efforts.

“We’ll move forward as planned,” Dad said. “This is a Selection, just like any of the others. It’s about choices. Right now, Kile is one option of many, and Eadlyn could certainly do worse.”

Thanks, Dad. I quickly checked Kile’s expression. He was staring at the floor, seeming embarrassed and angry.

“For now I think we should all get some food and celebrate. This is a very exciting day.”

“That’s right,” General Leger agreed. “Let’s eat.”

“I’m tired,” I said, turning. “I’ll be in my room.”

I didn’t wait for approval. I didn’t owe anyone anything after tonight. I was giving them everything they wanted.

CHAPTER 8

I AVOIDED EVERYONE OVER THE weekend, and no one seemed bothered by it, not even Mom. With the names out there, the Selection felt that much more real, and I was saddened by the dwindling days of solitude.

The Monday before the candidates arrived, I finally rejoined humanity and made my way to the Women’s Room. Miss Lucy was there, seeming back to her usual, cheerful self. I kept wishing I could do something to help her. I knew a puppy wasn’t a person, but so far my only idea was to get her a pet.

Mom was talking to Miss Marlee, and they waved me over the moment I was through the doorway.

Miss Marlee put her hand on mine as I sat. “I wanted to explain about Kile. He doesn’t want to leave because of you. He’s been talking about going for a long time, and I thought the semester away would put an end to it. I can’t bear to let him go.”