“How do you mean?” My words must have come out harsher than I meant, because the laughter in his eyes disappeared instantly.

“I’m not trying to insult him or anything, but lots of people say he looks tired. I’ve heard some people speculate all the time on when you’ll be ascending.”

I looked down. Did people really talk about Dad being tired?

“Hey,” Hale said, grabbing my attention again. “I’m really sorry. I was only trying to talk. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

I shook my head. “No, you’re fine. I’m not sure what got to me. Maybe thinking about doing this without Dad.”

“It’s so funny to hear you call the king ‘Dad.’”

“But that’s who he is!” I found myself smiling again. Something about the way Hale talked made everything feel calmer, brighter. I liked that.

“I know, I know. Okay, so back to you. Besides being the most powerful woman in the world, what do you do for fun?”

I ate another piece of cake to hide how big my grin was. “It may or may not surprise you that I am also very into fashion.”

“Oh, really?” he replied sarcastically.

“I sketch. A lot, actually. I’ve tried my hand at the things my parents like as well. I know a bit about photography, and I can play the piano a little. But I always come back to my sketchbook.”

I knew I was smiling. Those pages with their scribbles of colored pencils were one of my safest places in the world.

“Could I see them?”

“What?” I crossed my ankles and sat up straighter.

“Your sketches. Could I see them sometime?”

No one saw my sketches. I only ever showed designs to my maids when I had to since I didn’t do any of the construction. But for every one I shared, there were a dozen I hid, things I knew I could never wear. I thought about those pieces, each of them stored in my head or on paper, as if keeping them secret was the only way they could possibly be mine.

I knew he didn’t understand my sudden silence or why I held tightly to the arms of my chair. Hale asking that question, assuming he was welcome in that world, made me feel like he had somehow seen me—really seen me—and I didn’t like it.

“Excuse me,” I said, standing. “I think I had a little too much wine.”

“Do you need help?” he asked, standing as well.

“No, please stay and enjoy yourself.” I moved as quickly as I could.

“Your Highness!”

“Goodnight.”

“Eadlyn, wait!”

In the hallway I moved much faster, unable to express my relief when he didn’t follow me.

CHAPTER 15

I FULLY BELIEVED MY CURRENT state was not my fault, not even in the slightest. I knew who to point the finger at, and they were all other Schreaves. I blamed Mom and Dad for not being able to get the country under control and forcing me into this situation, and I blamed Ahren for trying to get me to consider these boys in the first place.

I was going to be queen, and a queen could be many things . . . but vulnerable wasn’t one of them.

Last night’s interlude with Hale made me sure of several things. First, I was right about the Selection. There was no way I could possibly find a companion under these circumstances, and I considered it miraculous that anyone had in the past. Forced openness with scores of strangers could not be good for one’s soul.

Second, if I ever did get married, the chances of me having a passionate, enduring love for that person were slim. Love did nothing but break down defenses, and I could not afford that. I already gave so much affection to my family that I knew they were my weakness, Dad and Ahren in particular. It was hard to imagine doing that to myself on purpose.

Ahren knew his words could sway me, knew how much I loved him. That was why, above the others, I wanted to throttle him after my date.

I went down to breakfast, walking with determined steps as if nothing had changed. I was still in control, and a bunch of silly boys were not going to take over my world. My plan for today was to get back to work. There had been far too many distractions lately, and I needed to focus. Dad talked about me finding someone to help me do my job, but so far all they were managing to do was make it harder.

Ahren and Osten sat next to Mom, and I took my place between Dad and Kaden. Even from the opposite side of the table I could hear Osten chewing.

“You all right, sis?” Kaden asked, pausing between heaping spoonfuls of oatmeal.

“Of course.”

“You look a little stressed.”

“You would, too, if you were going to run the country,” I teased.

“Sometimes I think about that,” he said, getting all serious. “Like, what if a disease swept over all of Illéa, and you and Mom and Dad and Ahren got sick and died. Then I’d be in charge and have to figure out everything on my own.”

In my periphery I saw Dad lean forward, listening to his son. “That’s a little morbid, Kaden.”

Kaden shrugged. “It’s always good to plan ahead.”

I propped my chin on my hand. “So what would be King Kaden’s first order of business?”

“Vaccinations, obviously.”

I chuckled. “Good call. And after that?”

He considered. “I think I’d try to meet people. Nonsick people, so I could know what they need me to do. It probably looks a little different out there than it does in here.”

Dad nodded. “That’s pretty smart, Kaden.”

“I know.” And Kaden went back to eating, his imaginary rule at an end. Lucky him.