The Elite (Selection)

doors. “Fifteen minutes,” he reminded.
    “Fifteen minutes.”
    He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked one of the doors, holding it open so I could go in before him. The room was wide and bright, with lots of windows and two doors opening onto a balcony along the wall. There was a bed, a massive armoire, and a table with chairs; but other than that the room was empty. No paintings on the walls, no pieces on the inlaid shelves. Even the paint was a little drab.
    “This is the princess’s suite,” Maxon said quietly.
    My eyes widened.
    “I know it’s not much to look at right now. The princess is supposed to choose the decor, so once my mother moved to the queen’s suite, the room was stripped.”
    Queen Amberly had slept here. Something about the room felt magical.
    Maxon came up behind me and started pointing. “Those doors go to the balcony. And over there”—he pointed to the other end of the room—“those doors go to the princess’s personal study. Right here”—he noted a door to our right—“this goes to my room. Can’t have the princess too far off.”
    I felt myself blush thinking of sleeping here with Maxon so close.
    He stepped toward the armoire. “And this? Behind this piece of furniture is the escape to the safe room. You can get to other places in the palace this way, too, but that’s its main purpose.” He sighed. “This is a slight misuse, but I thought it would be worth it.”
    Maxon placed his hand on a hidden latch, and the armoire and the panel of wall behind it swung forward. I saw him smile at the space behind it. “Right on time.”
    “I wouldn’t miss it,” another voice said.
    I sucked in a breath. There was no way that voice belonged to who I thought it did. I stepped to see around the hulking piece of furniture and Maxon’s smiling face. There, dressed in very plain clothes and with her hair pulled into a bun, was Marlee.
    “Marlee?” I whispered, sure I had to be dreaming. “What are you doing here?”
    “I’ve missed you so much!” she cried, and ran to me with her arms open. With her hands out, I could see clearly the red, healing welts on her palms. It really was Marlee.
    She wrapped me in a hug, and we crumpled to the ground, I was so overcome. I couldn’t stop from crying and asking over and over what in the world she was doing here.
    When I quieted down long enough, Maxon got my attention. “Ten minutes. I’ll be waiting outside. Marlee, you can leave the way you came.”
    She gave him her word, and Maxon left us alone.
    “I don’t understand,” I said. “You were supposed to go south. You were supposed to be an Eight. Where’s Carter?”
    She smiled through my misunderstanding. “We’ve been here the whole time. I just started working in the kitchens; and Carter’s still on the mend, but I think he’ll be in the stables soon.”
    “On the mend?” So many questions were racing through my mind, I wasn’t sure why that one popped out.
    “Yes, he walks and can sit and stand, but it’s hard for him to do anything too strenuous. He’s helping in the kitchens until he’s fully healed. He’s going to be fine though. And look at me,” she said, holding out both hands. “We’ve been very well taken care of. They aren’t pretty, but at least they don’t hurt anymore.”
    I carefully touched the swollen lines on her palms, sure they couldn’t actually be painless. But she didn’t flinch, and after a moment I slid my hand into hers. It felt funny, but at the same time completely natural. Marlee was here. And I was holding her hand.
    “So Maxon’s had you in the palace the whole time?”
    She nodded. “After the caning, he was afraid we would be hurt if we were left on our own, so he kept us here. Two other servants, a brother and sister who had family in Panama, were sent instead. We’re going by new names, and Carter is growing out his beard, so after a while we’ll blend in. Not a lot of people know we’re in the palace in the first place, just a few of the cooks I work with, one of the nurses, and Maxon. I don’t even think the guards know because they have to answer to the king, and he wouldn’t be pleased to find out.”
    She shook her head before quickly moving on. “Our little apartment is small, basically just enough room for our bed and some shelves; but at least it’s clean. I’m trying to sew us a new bedspread, but I’m not—”
    “Hold on. Our bed? As in, you share one?”
    She smiled. “We got