The Elite (Selection)

barely had time to think about what Aspen made me feel, because the moment the door shut, my maids swarmed around me, preparing me for bed. As they chatted away and brushed my hair, I tried to let myself forget about everything for a moment.
    It was impossible. I had to choose. Aspen or Maxon.
    But how was I supposed to decide between two good possibilities? How could I make a choice that would leave some part of me devastated either way? I comforted myself with the thought that I still had time. I still had time.

CHAPTER 5
    “SO, LADY CELESTE, YOU’RE SAYING that the quantities aren’t sufficient, and you feel the number of men taken in the next draft should be raised?” Gavril Fadaye, the moderator of discussions on the Illéa Capital Report and the only person who ever interviewed the royals, asked.
    Our debates on the Report were tests, and we knew it. Even though Maxon didn’t have a timeline, the public was aching for the field to narrow; and I sensed the king, queen, and their advisers were, too. If we wanted to stay, we had to perform, whenever and wherever they said. I was glad I’d made it through that awful report about the soldiers. I remembered some of the statistics, so I stood a decent chance of making a good impression tonight.
    “Exactly, Gavril. The war in New Asia has been going on for years. I think one or two rounds of inflated drafts would give us the numbers we need to end it.”
    I really couldn’t stand Celeste. She’d gotten one girl kicked out, ruined Kriss’s birthday party last month, and literally tried to rip a dress off my back. Her status as a Two made her consider herself a cut above the rest of us. To be honest, I didn’t have an opinion about the number of soldiers Illéa had, but now that I knew Celeste’s, I was unwaveringly opposed.
    “I disagree,” I said in as ladylike a tone as I could manage. Celeste turned my way, her dark hair whipping over her shoulder in the process. With her back to the camera, she felt perfectly comfortable blatantly glaring at me.
    “Ah, Lady America, you think increasing the numbers is a bad idea?” Gavril asked.
    I felt the heat of a blush on my cheeks. “Twos can afford to pay their way out of the draft, so I’m sure Lady Celeste has never seen what it does when families lose their only sons. Taking more would be devastating, particularly for the lowest castes, who tend to have larger families and need every member to work in order to survive.”
    Marlee, beside me, gave me a friendly nudge.
    Celeste took over. “Well, then what should we do? Certainly you aren’t suggesting that we sit back and let these wars drag on?”
    “No, no. Of course I want Illéa to be done with the war.” I paused to gather my thoughts and looked across at Maxon for some sort of support. Next to him, the king looked peeved.
    I needed to switch directions, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “What if it was voluntary?”
    “Voluntary?” Gavril asked.
    Celeste and Natalie chuckled, which made it worse. But then I thought about it. Was it such a terrible idea?
    “Yes. I’m sure there would need to be certain requirements, but perhaps we’d get more out of an army of men who wanted to be soldiers as opposed to boys who were only doing what it took to stay alive and get back to the life they left behind.”
    A hush of consideration fell on the studio. Apparently, I’d made a point.
    “That’s a good idea,” Elise chimed in. “Then we’d also be sending out new soldiers every month or two as people sign up. It might be invigorating to the men who’ve been serving awhile.”
    “I agree,” Marlee added, which was usually the extent of her comments. She clearly wasn’t comfortable in debate situations.
    “Well, I know this might sound a little modern, but what if it was open to women?” Kriss commented.
    Celeste laughed aloud. “Who do you think would sign up? Would you be heading into the battlefield?” Her voice dripped with an insulting disbelief.
    Kriss kept her head together. “No, I’m not soldier material. But,” she continued, to Gavril, “if there’s one thing I’ve learned from being in the Selection, it’s that some girls have a frightening killer instinct. Don’t let the ball gowns fool you,” she finished with a smile.
    Back in my room, I allowed my maids to stay a little later than usual to help me get the pile of pins out of my hair.
    “I liked your idea of the army being voluntary,” Mary said,