Home > The Heir (The Selection #4)(46)

The Heir (The Selection #4)(46)
Author: Kiera Cass

I tried to remember his form. “Paloma, I think.”

Kaden nodded. “It was Paloma.”

“Awesome.” Osten spoke into the phone again. “Did you hear that? I’ll be in touch.”

He hung up and slid the phone into his pocket as we all stared at him.

I laughed. “I’d usually try to stop whatever you’re doing, but I’m not even going to ask.”

“I think that’s for the best.”

I looked around at all my brothers, so caring and smart and puckish. So many times I’d hated them for not being older than me, for forcing me into a role I never wanted. Tonight, maybe for the first time, I loved them for exactly who they were. Kaden was distracting, Ahren had defended me, and Osten . . . well, he’d help in his own way.

Osten had left the door open, and Mom and Dad walked in to find all their children together.

Mom seemed happy to see her family safe, but Dad was shaken.

He put one hand on his hip and gestured with the other. “Everyone okay?”

“Slightly spooked,” I admitted.

“And a little bruised,” Ahren added.

Dad swallowed, taking us all in. “Eadlyn, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how he slipped through the cracks. I thought the applications were vetted, and I had no idea . . .”

He stopped, looking as though he was close to tears.

“I’m all right, Daddy.”

He nodded but didn’t speak.

Mom stepped forward, taking over. “We’d like to put some guidelines in place. Perhaps have a guard nearby on any dates from here on out, or have all dates in a public area.”

“That or have photographers. I think that would help, too.” I cursed myself again for not remembering earlier.

“Excellent idea, sweetie. We want to keep this safe.”

“Which reminds me,” Dad said, under control again. “How do you want to proceed with Jack? Should we cover this up? Press formal charges? Personally, I’d like to tear him limb from limb, but that’s really up to you.”

I smiled. “No charges, but let’s not cover it up. Let everyone know exactly what kind of man he is. That will be punishment enough.”

“Very wise,” Ahren agreed.

Dad folded his arms, considering. “If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do. I’ve been told he’s on his way home now, and that will be the end of it.”

“Thank you.”

Dad put his arm around Mom, and they turned to leave, Mom taking one last look at all of us.

“By the way,” Dad said, glancing over his shoulder, “while I agree with the sentiment behind throwing him out without seeing if he regained consciousness, if he had died, that would have looked really bad.”

I pressed my lips together, but I knew my eyes were smiling. “Fine. No more carelessly tossing people out through the gates.”

“And more sword fights!” Kaden yelled.

While Ahren and I laughed, our parents shook their heads. “Goodnight. Don’t stay up too late,” Mom warned.

And we didn’t mean to, but we did end up talking for a long time. I eventually fell asleep with Kaden’s back pressed against mine, Ahren’s arm under my head, and Osten holding on to one of my feet.

I woke early the next morning, well before the others, and smiled at my brothers, my protectors. The sister in me wanted to stay. But the princess in me got up and went to prepare for the new day.

CHAPTER 20

WHILE WE SAT AT THE breakfast table the next morning, I found myself looking over the boys, searching for signs that anyone else might be like Jack. I kept thinking that if I’d paid more attention those first few days, I’d have been able to see there was something off about him.

Then my eyes passed over some of the others I’d gotten to know, like Hale and Henri. Even Erik’s presence was a welcome one. After meeting them, I couldn’t let one boy make me fearful of all the others. And in truth, I really didn’t have the privilege of being fearful.

So I pulled myself together, remembering who I was. I couldn’t run scared.

As the meal drew to a close, I stood, commanding their attention. “Gentlemen, I have a surprise for you. In fifteen minutes, please come meet me in the studio for a little game.”

Some laughed and others clapped, but they didn’t know what was waiting for them. I almost felt bad. I left the room before them, going to make sure my dress and hair looked right for filming.

Shortly thereafter, the boys filed in, all of them seeming a little stunned by the set.

I sat in front, a bit like a schoolteacher, while they each had a stool with a paper and marker and a large, cartoonish name tag like the ones I’d seen on TV game shows.

“Welcome, gentlemen!” I sang. “Please come find your seat.”

The cameras were already rolling, capturing the nervous smiles and confused head shaking as they found their places and stuck on their tags.

“Today we’re having a pop quiz on all things Illéa. We’ll be discussing history, foreign affairs, and domestic policies. When you get an answer right, one of the maids standing by,” I said, motioning to the ladies waiting in the wings, “will come and put a gold check mark sticker on you. Get one wrong, and they’ll bring a black X.”

The boys chuckled with excitement and anxiety, looking at the baskets of stickers.

“Don’t worry, this is all for fun. But I will be using this information to help decide my next elimination. If you get the most wrong, it doesn’t mean you’re automatically out . . . but I’m watching,” I teased, pointing a finger at them.

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