The Elite (Selection)

Silvia close by. Immediately after she was through, the door was sealed shut.
    “I tripped,” she explained to Silvia, who was fretting over her. “I don’t think I broke my ankle, but it really hurts.”
    “There are bandages in the back. We can at least wrap it,” Maxon instructed. Silvia walked away quickly, passing us as she went hunting for bandages.
    “Sleep! Now!” she ordered.
    I sighed, and I wasn’t the only one. Natalie took it in stride, but Celeste seemed very irritated. I checked myself then. If my behavior was anything like hers, it needed to change. Though I didn’t want to, I crawled into my cot and faced the wall.
    I tried not to think about Aspen fighting upstairs, or my maids maybe not making it to their hiding place fast enough. I tried not to worry about the upcoming week, or the possibility of the rebels being Southern and trying to slaughter people above us as we rested.
    But I did think about all of that. And it was so exhausting, I eventually found sleep on my cold, hard cot.
    I didn’t know what time it was when I woke up, but it must have been hours since we’d come to the safe room. I rolled over, looking at Elise. She was sleeping peacefully. The king was reading his papers, whipping them through his hands so quickly, he appeared to be mad at them. The queen’s head rested on the back of her chair. She looked even more beautiful when she slept.
    Natalie was still asleep, or at least she looked that way. But Celeste was awake, propped up on one arm and looking across the room. Her eyes held a fire that she usually reserved for me. I followed her gaze over to the opposite wall, where she was watching Kriss and Maxon.
    They sat side by side, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Kriss had her legs curled to her chest, looking as if she was trying to keep warm, even though she was wearing a robe. Her left ankle was wrapped in gauze and didn’t appear to be bothering her at the moment. They spoke quietly with smiles on their faces.
    I didn’t want to watch, so I rolled back over.
    By the time Silvia tapped me on my shoulder to wake me, Maxon was already gone. So was Kriss.

CHAPTER 16
    AS I EMERGED FROM THE stairwell that had ushered me to safety the night before, it was all too apparent that the Southerners had been here. In the short hallway that led to my room, there was a pile of debris that I had to climb over to get to my door.
    Typically, the worst of the mess was gone by the time we were released from the safe room. This time, however, it looked like there had been too much for the staff to get to, and we would have been down there all day. Still, I wished they’d tried a little harder. I spied a group of maids working to scrub away giant letters on a far wall.
    WE’RE COMING
    The line was repeated down the hall, sometimes written in mud, other times in paint; and one appeared to be done in blood. Chills ran through me, and I wondered what that meant.
    As I stood there, my maids dashed up to me. “Miss, are you all right?” Anne asked.
    I was startled by their sudden appearance. “Um, yes. Fine.” I looked back to the words on the wall.
    “Come away, miss. We’ll get you ready,” Mary insisted.
    I followed obediently, slightly stunned from everything I saw and too confused to do anything else. They worked deliberately, the way they did when they tried to soothe me with the routine of getting dressed. Something about their steady hands—even Lucy’s—was calming.
    By the time I was ready, a maid came to escort me outside, where we would apparently be working this morning. The smashed glass and chilling graffiti were easy to forget about in the Angeles sun. Even Maxon and the king were standing at a table with advisers, reviewing piles of documents and making decisions.
    Under a tent, the queen read over papers, pointing out details to a nearby maid. Near her, Elise, Celeste, and Natalie sat at a table discussing plans for their reception. They were so engrossed, it looked like they’d completely forgotten the rough night.
    Kriss and I sat on the opposite side of the lawn, under a similar tent, but our work was going slowly. I was having a hard time talking to her as I fought to get the image of her sharing a moment with Maxon out of my head. I watched as she underlined sections in the papers Silvia gave us and scribbled notes in the margin.
    “I think I might have figured out how to do our flowers,” she commented without looking up.
    “Oh. Good.”
    I let