The Heir (The Selection #4)(4)
I narrowed my eyes, not sure where this was going. “I’m listening.”
Mom cleared her throat. “You know that in the past, princesses were married off to princes from other countries to solidify our international relations.”
“I did hear you use the past tense there, correct?”
She laughed, but I wasn’t amused. “Yes.”
“Good. Because Prince Nathaniel looks like a zombie, Prince Hector dances like a zombie, and if the prince from the German Federation doesn’t learn to embrace personal hygiene by the Christmas party, he shouldn’t be invited.”
Mom rubbed the side of her head in frustration. “Eadlyn, you’ve always been so picky.”
Dad shrugged. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” he said, earning a glare from Mom.
I frowned. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“You know how your mother and I met,” Dad began.
I rolled my eyes. “Everyone does. You two are practically a fairy tale.”
At those words their eyes went soft, and smiles washed over their faces. Their bodies seemed to tilt slightly toward each other, and Dad bit his lip looking at Mom.
“Excuse me. Firstborn in the room, do you mind?”
Mom blushed as Dad cleared his throat and continued. “The Selection process was very successful for us. And though my parents had their problems, it worked well for them, too. So . . . we were hoping. . . .” He hesitated and met my eyes.
I was slow to pick up on their hints. I knew what the Selection was, but never, not even once, had it been suggested as an option for any of us, let alone me.
“No.”
Mom put up her hands, cautioning me. “Just listen—”
“A Selection?” I burst out. “That’s insane!”
“Eadlyn, you’re being irrational.”
I glared at her. “You promised—you promised—you’d never force me into marrying someone for an alliance. How is this any better?”
“Hear us out,” she urged.
“No!” I shouted. “I won’t do it.”
“Calm down, love.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not a child!”
Mom sighed. “You’re certainly acting like one.”
“You’re ruining my life!” I ran my fingers through my hair and took several deep breaths, hoping it would help me think. This couldn’t happen. Not to me.
“It’s a huge opportunity,” Dad insisted.
“You’re trying to shackle me to a stranger!”
“I told you she’d be stubborn,” Mom muttered to Dad.
“Wonder where she gets that from,” he shot back with a smile.
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room!”
“I’m sorry,” Dad said. “We just need you to consider this.”
“What about Ahren? Can’t he do it?”
“Ahren isn’t going to be the future king. Besides, he has Camille.”
Princess Camille was the heir to the French throne, and a few years ago she’d managed to bat her lashes all the way into Ahren’s heart.
“Then make them get married!” I pleaded.
“Camille will be queen when her time comes, and she, like you, will have to ask her partner to marry her. If it was Ahren’s choice, we’d consider it; but it’s not.”
“What about Kaden? Can’t you have him do it?”
Mom laughed humorlessly. “He’s fourteen! We don’t have that kind of time. The people need something to be excited about now.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “And, honestly, isn’t it time you look for someone to rule beside you?”
Dad nodded. “It’s true. It’s not a role that should be shouldered alone.”
“But I don’t want to get married,” I pleaded. “Please don’t make me do this. I’m only eighteen.”
“Which is how old I was when I married your father,” Mom stated.
“I’m not ready,” I urged. “I don’t want a husband. Please don’t do this to me.”
Mom reached across the table and put her hand on mine. “No one would be doing anything to you. You would be doing something for your people. You’d be giving them a gift.”
“You mean faking a smile when I’d rather cry?”
She gave me a fleeting frown. “That has always been part of our job.”
I stared at her, silently demanding a better answer.
“Eadlyn, why don’t you take some time to think this over?” Dad said calmly. “I know this is a big thing we’re asking of you.”
“Does that mean I have a choice?”
Dad inhaled deeply, considering. “Well, love, you’ll really have thirty-five choices.”
I leaped up from my chair, pointing toward the door.
“Get out!” I demanded. “Get! Out!”
Without another word they left my room.
Didn’t they know who I was, what they’d trained me for? I was Eadlyn Schreave. No one was more powerful than me.
So if they thought I was going down without a fight, they were sadly mistaken.
CHAPTER 3