The Elite (Selection)

small group listening to Elise’s mother talk about her family back in New Asia when May tugged on my dress, pulling me away.
    “May!” I hissed. “What are you doing? You can’t act like that, especially when the queen’s present!”
    “You have to see!” she insisted.
    Thank goodness Silvia wasn’t here. I wouldn’t put it past her to admonish May for something like this, even though May didn’t know any better.
    We made our way to the window, and May pointed outside. “Look!”
    I peered past the shrubs and fountains and saw two figures. The first was my father, speaking with his hands as he either explained or asked something. The second was Maxon, pausing to think before responding. They walked slowly, and sometimes my dad would put his hands in his pockets or Maxon would tuck his behind his back. Whatever this conversation was, it seemed intense.
    I glanced around. The women were all still engrossed with the experience, with the queen herself, and no one seemed to notice us.
    Maxon stopped, stood in front of my father, and spoke deliberately. There was no aggression or anger, but he looked determined. After a pause, Dad held out his hand. Maxon smiled and shook it eagerly. A moment later, they both seemed lighter, and Dad slapped Maxon on the back. Maxon seemed to stiffen a bit at that. He wasn’t used to being touched. But then Dad put his arm around Maxon’s shoulder, the way he did with me and Kota, the way he did with all his kids. And Maxon seemed to like that very much.
    “What was that about?” I asked aloud.
    May shrugged. “It looked important though.”
    “It did.”
    We waited to see if Maxon had a conversation with anyone else’s father; but if he did, they didn’t go to the gardens.

CHAPTER 8
    THE HALLOWEEN PARTY WAS AS amazing as Maxon had promised. When I walked into the Great Room with May by my side, I was stunned by the sheer beauty before me. Everything was golden. Ornaments on the walls, glittering jewels in the chandeliers, cups, plates, even the food—everything had hints of gold in it. It was nothing short of magnificent.
    Popular music was playing through a sound system, but in the corner a small band waited to play the songs for the traditional dances we’d learned. Cameras—both for photography and video—dotted the room. No doubt this would be the highlight of Illéa programming tomorrow. There couldn’t be a celebration equal to this one. I briefly wondered what it would be like if I was still here at Christmastime.
    Everyone’s costumes were gorgeous. Marlee was dressed as an angel and dancing with that guard I ran into, Officer Woodwork. She even had wings that looked like they’d been made out of iridescent paper floating behind her. Celeste’s dress was short and made of feathers, with a large plume behind her head announcing she was a peacock.
    Kriss was standing with Natalie, and they seemed to have coordinated. Natalie’s dress had flowers blossoming on the bodice, and her full skirt was fluttery blue tulle. Kriss’s dress was as golden as the room and covered with cascading leaves. Guessing, I’d say they were spring and fall. It was a cute idea.
    Elise’s Asian heritage was being taken full advantage of. Her silken dress was an exaggeration of the demure ones she tended to favor. The draping sleeves were incredibly dramatic, and I was in awe of her ability to walk with the ornate headdress she was wearing. Elise didn’t typically stand out, but tonight she looked lovely, almost regal.
    Around the room, all the family and friends were in costume, too, and the guards were equally dashing. I saw a baseball player, a cowboy, someone in a suit with a name tag that said GAVRIL FADAYE, and one guard so bold as to put on a lady’s dress. A few girls were near him, laughing up a storm. But many of the guards were in the dress version of their uniforms, which was simply pressed white pants and their blue jackets. They had on gloves but no hats, and these features helped distinguish them from the guards who were actually on duty, surrounding the perimeter of the room.
    “So, what do you think?” I asked May, but when I turned, I saw she had disappeared into the crowd, already exploring. I laughed to myself as I surveyed the room, trying to find her puffy little dress. When she said she wanted to go to the party as a bride—“the kind we see on TV”—I had thought it was a joke. She looked absolutely adorable in her veil though.
    “Hello, Lady