The Selection (Selection - Trilogy)

amazing. It’s just… I don’t think Maxon would do that, just discount someone because of their caste.”
    I heard a collective gasp. I ran over the sentence in my head. It took me a minute to catch my mistake: I’d called him Maxon. Saying that to another girl behind closed doors was one thing, but to say his name without the word “Prince” in front of it was incredibly informal in public. And I’d said it on live television.
    I looked to see if Maxon was angry. He had a calm smile on his face. So he wasn’t mad … but I was embarrassed. I blushed fiercely.
    “Ah, so it seems you really have gotten to know our prince. Tell me, what do you think of Maxon ?”
    I had thought of several answers while I was waiting for my turn. I was going to make fun of his laugh or talk about the pet name he wanted his wife to call him. It seemed like the only way to save the situation was to get back the comedy. But as I lifted my eyes to make one of my comments, I saw Maxon’s face.
    He really wanted to know.
    And I couldn’t poke fun at him, not when I had a chance to say what I’d really started to think now that he was my friend. I couldn’t joke about the person who’d saved me from facing absolute heartbreak at home, who fed my family boxes of sweets, who ran to me worried that I was hurt if I asked for him.
    A month ago, I had looked at the TV and seen a stiff, distant, boring person—someone I couldn’t imagine anyone loving. And while he wasn’t anything close to the person I did love, he was worthy of having someone to love in his life.
    “Maxon Schreave is the epitome of all things good. He is going to be a phenomenal king. He lets girls who are supposed to be wearing dresses wear jeans and doesn’t get mad when someone who doesn’t know him clearly mislabels him.” I gave Gavril a keen look, and he smiled. And behind him, Maxon looked intrigued. “Whoever he marries will be a lucky girl. And whatever happens to me, I will be honored to be his subject.”
    I saw Maxon swallow, and I lowered my eyes.
    “America Singer, thank you so much.” Gavril went to shake my hand. “Up next is Miss Tallulah Bell.”
    I didn’t hear what any of the girls said after me, though I stared at the two seats. That interview had become way more personal than I’d intended it to be. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Maxon. Instead I sat there replaying my words again and again in my head.
    The knock on my door came around ten. I flung it open, and Maxon rolled his eyes.
    “You really ought to have a maid in here at night.”
    “Maxon! Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that in front of everyone. It was so stupid.”
    “Do you think I’m mad at you?” he asked as he walked in and shut the door. “America, you call me by my name so often, it was bound to slip out. I wish it had been in a slightly more private setting,” he said with a sly smile, “but I don’t hold that against you at all.”
    “Really?”
    “Of course, really.”
    “Ugh! I felt like such an idiot tonight. I can’t believe you made me tell that story!” I slapped him on the side gently.
    “That was the best part of the whole night! Mom was really amused. In her day the girls were more reserved than even Tiny, and here you are calling me shallow … she couldn’t get over it.”
    Great. Now the queen thought I was a misfit, too. We walked across my room and ended up on the balcony. There was a small, warm breeze blowing the scent of the thousands of flowers in the garden toward us. A full moon shone down on us, adding to the lights around the palace, and it gave Maxon’s face a mysterious glow.
    “Well, I’m glad you’re so amused,” I said, running my fingers across the railing.
    Maxon hopped up to sit on the railing, looking very relaxed. “You’re always amusing. Get used to it.”
    Hmm. He was almost being funny.
    “So … about what you said…,” he started tentatively.
    “Which part? The part about me calling you names or fighting with my mom or saying food was my motivation?” I rolled my eyes.
    He laughed once. “The part about me being good…”
    “Oh. What about it?” Those few sentences suddenly seemed more embarrassing than anything else I’d said. I ducked my head down and twisted a piece of my dress.
    “I appreciate you making things look authentic, but you didn’t need to go that far.”
    My head snapped up. How could he think that?
    “Maxon, that wasn’t for the sake of the show. If