فصل 22

Chapter 22

“HELLO?” I WHISPERED, FOLLOWING THE instructions Aspen had left for me the day before. I cautiously walked into a room lit only by the fading daylight spilling in through the gossamer curtains, but it was enough for me to see the excitement on Aspen’s face.

I closed the door behind me, and he immediately ran over and scooped me up.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too. I was so busy with that reception, I barely had time to breathe.” “Glad it’s over. Did you have a hard time getting here?” he joked.

I giggled. “Seriously, Aspen, you’re way too good at your job.” It was almost comical how simple his idea was. The queen was a little more relaxed when it came to running the palace. Or maybe she was distracted. Either way, she’d made dinner an option: in your room or downstairs. My maids prepped me for the meal, but instead of heading to the dining room, I walked across the hall to Bariel’s old room. It was too easy.

He smiled as he took in my praise and sat me down in the back corner of the room on some pillows he’d already piled there. “Are you comfortable?” I nodded and expected him to sit too, but he didn’t. Instead he pushed over a large couch, which blocked the door from sight, and then pulled in a table that brushed the top of our heads as we sat on the floor. Finally he grabbed a bundle he’d left on top of the table—it smelled like food— and settled next to me.

“Almost like home, huh?” He moved behind me so I was between his legs. The position was so familiar and the space was so small that it did feel a little like our old tree house. It was like he’d taken a piece of something I thought was gone forever and placed it neatly in my hands.

“It’s even better.” I sighed, leaning into him. After a minute I felt his fingers combing down my hair. It gave me shivers.

For a while we sat there in silence, and I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of Aspen’s breathing. Not so long ago, I’d done the same thing with Maxon. But this was different. If I had to, I thought I could pick Aspen’s breathing out of a crowd. I knew him so well. And, clearly, he knew me. This tiny bit of peace was everything I’d been aching for, and Aspen made it real.

“What are you thinking about, Mer?”

“Lots of things.” I sighed. “Home, you, Maxon, the Selection, everything.” “What are you thinking about all of that?”

“Mostly how confused I get about them. Like how I’ll think I understand what’s happening to me, and then something shifts, and my feelings change.” Aspen was quiet for a moment, and his voice sounded pained when he asked, “Do your feelings about me change a lot?” “No!” I said, pushing myself closer to him. “If anything, you’re the one constant. I know that if everything turns upside down, you’ll still be here, in the exact same place. Everything gets so crazy that my love for you gets pushed to the background, but I know it’s always there. Does that make sense?” “It does. I know I make this whole thing more complicated than it already is. I’m glad to know I’m not completely out of the running though.” Aspen wrapped his arms around me, like he could hold me there forever.

“I haven’t forgotten us,” I promised.

“Sometimes I feel like Maxon and I are in our own version of the Selection. It’s just him and me, and one of us will get you in the end; and I can’t decide who’s worse off. Maxon doesn’t exactly know we’re competing, so he might not be able to try as hard. But then, I have to hide, so it’s not like I can give you everything he can. It’s not really a fair fight either way.” “You shouldn’t think about it that way.”

“I don’t know how else to see it, Mer.”

I exhaled. “Let’s not talk about that.”

“All right. I don’t like talking about him anyway. What about all the other stuff you’re confused about? What’s going on?” “Do you like being a soldier?” I asked, turning toward him.

He nodded enthusiastically as he reached down and opened the food. “I love it, Mer. I thought I’d hate every minute, but it’s fantastic.” He popped a chunk of bread into his mouth and kept talking. “I mean, there’s the obvious stuff, like I’m always being fed. They want us to be big, so there’s plenty of food. And the injections, too,” he said, amending his thoughts. “But they’re not so bad. And I get an allowance. Even though I have everything I need, I get money.” He stopped for a moment, toying with an orange slice. “I know you know how good it feels to send money home.” I could tell he was thinking about his mom and his six siblings. He had been the father figure at his home; I wondered whether that made him even more homesick than I was.

He cleared his throat and went on. “But there are other things that I wasn’t expecting to like, too. I really enjoy the discipline of it and the routine. I like knowing that I’m doing something necessary. I feel so . . . content. I’ve been restless for years, counting stock or cleaning houses. Now I feel like I’m doing what I was meant to do.” “So that’s a big yes? You love it?”

“Completely.”

“But you don’t like Maxon. And I know you don’t like the way Illéa is run. We used to talk about it back home, and then that whole thing with the people in the South losing their castes. I know that bothers you, too.” He nodded. “I think it’s cruel.”

“Then how are you okay with protecting it? You fight against rebels to keep the king and Maxon safe. They’re the ones who make everything happen, and you don’t like any of what they do. So how do you love your job?” He chewed as he thought. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t make sense, but . . . okay, like I said, there’s the sense of purpose. And feeling challenged and engaged, the ability to do something more with my life. Maybe Illéa isn’t perfect. In fact, it’s far from it. But I have . . . I have hope,” he said simply.

We were both quiet for a moment while the word washed over us.

“I have this feeling that things have gotten better than they were, though I honestly don’t know enough about our history to prove that. And I have this feeling that things will get even better in the future. I think that there are possibilities.

“And maybe this is silly, but it’s my country. I get that it’s broken, but that doesn’t mean these anarchists can just come and take it. It’s still mine. Does that sound crazy?” I nibbled my bread and reflected on Aspen’s words. They took me back to our tree house and all the times I would ask him questions about things. Even if I disagreed, it helped me understand them better. But I didn’t disagree on this point. In fact, it helped me see what was probably hiding in my heart all this time.

“It doesn’t sound crazy at all. It sounds completely reasonable.”

“Does that help with whatever you’ve been thinking about?”

“It does.”

“Are you going to explain any of it?”

I smiled up at him. “Not yet.” Though Aspen was smart, and he might have already guessed. The wistful look in his eyes suggested that he probably had.

He looked away for a moment, running his hand down my arm, finishing by playing with the button bracelet around my wrist. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?” “A big one.”

“Sometimes I feel like we’re a knot, too tangled to be taken apart.”

I nodded. “It’s true. So much of me is tied up in you. I feel kind of lost without you.” Aspen pulled me close, running a hand over my temple and down my cheek. “We’ll just have to stay tangled then.” He kissed me gently, like, if he pushed too hard, the moment might shatter and we’d lose everything. Maybe he was right. Slowly, he lowered me to the mattress of pillows, holding on to me, tracing curves as he kissed me on and on. It was all so familiar, so safe.

I ran my fingers through Aspen’s cropped hair, remembering the way it used to fall and tickle my face when he kissed me. I noted his arms around me, so much fuller than they used to be, so much sturdier. Even the way he held me had changed. There was a newfound confidence there, something instilled in him through becoming a Two, becoming a soldier.

Too soon it was time to leave, and Aspen walked me to the door. He gave me a lingering kiss, making me a little light-headed. “I’ll try to get another note to you soon,” he promised.

“I’ll be waiting.” I leaned into him, holding on to him for one long moment. Then, to keep us safe, I left.

My maids prepped me for bed, and I went through it in a daze. It used to feel like the Selection was one choice: Maxon or Aspen. And as if that was some decision my heart could make simply, it grew into so many more things. Was I a Five or a Three? When this was over, would I be a Two or a One? Would I live out my days as an officer’s wife or a king’s? Would I slide quietly into the background in which I’d always been so comfortable or force myself into the spotlight I’d always feared? Could I happily do either? Could I not hate whoever Maxon ended up with if I chose Aspen? Could I not hate whoever Aspen chose if I stayed with Maxon?

As I got into bed and turned out the light, I reminded myself that it was my decision to be here. Aspen may have asked, and my mother may have pushed, but no one forced me to fill out the form for the Selection.

Whatever was coming, I’d just face it. I’d have to.