The Heir

“A few of them make me uneasy,” I confessed. The smooth words, the leering eyes. Even though I grew up knowing I was special, I didn’t like being looked at as a prize.

His expression grew sympathetic. “It’s a strange situation, I know. But you never have to be alone with anyone you don’t like, you’re free to dismiss someone for nothing more than a feeling, and even the dumbest of them wouldn’t be stupid enough to hurt you,” he promised. “Trust me; if someone did, I’d make sure they never walked again.”

He gave me a wink before moving away and signaling for the final contestant to be brought out.

I was a bit confused when it wasn’t one person but two. The first was dressed in a crisp suit, but the second wore only a button-up shirt. The slightly drabber one walked a few steps behind the other, his eyes trained on the floor. The first was nothing but smiles, and it looked like someone had tried to tame his hair and failed.

“Hello, Highness,” he greeted, his voice thick with an accent I couldn’t identify. “How are you?”

Confused but disarmed by his incredibly warm smile, I answered, “I’m well. It’s been a long day. I’m sure it has been for you, too.”

Behind him, the other boy leaned forward and whispered something in garbled words I couldn’t understand.

The first nodded. “Oh, yes, yes, but . . . eets nice to meeting you.” He used his hands as he spoke, trying to get the words across with his gestures.

I leaned in, not understanding, and somehow hoping a closer proximity would clear up his accent. “Excuse me?”

The boy behind him spoke up. “He says it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I squinted, still confused.

“My name ees Henri.” He bowed in greeting, and I could see in his face that he meant to do this earlier and forgot.

I didn’t want to be rude, so I nodded my head in acknowledgment. “Hello, Henri.”

He lit up at the sound of his name, and he stood there, looking back and forth between the gentleman behind him and me.

“I can’t help but notice your accent,” I remarked in what I hoped was a friendly tone. “Where do you come from?”

“Umm, Swend—?” he began, but turned to the guest with him.

He nodded, carrying on in Henri’s place. “Sir Henri was born in Swendway, so he has a very strong Finnish accent.”

“Oh,” I replied. “And does he speak much English?”

Henri piped up. “English, no, no.” He didn’t seem embarrassed though. Instead he laughed it off.

“How are we supposed to get to know each other?”

The translator turned to Henri. “Miten saat tuntemaan toisensa?”

Henri pointed to the translator, who answered, “Through me, it seems.”

“Okay. Well. Umm.” I wasn’t prepared for this. Was it rude for me to dismiss him? Interacting with these people one-on-one was going to be awkward enough. I wasn’t prepared for a third person.

In that instant Henri’s application popped back into my mind. That was why some of the words were spelled wrong. He was guessing at them.

“Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you, too, Henri.”

He smiled at his name, and I got the feeling the rest of the words didn’t even matter. I couldn’t send him away.

“The Men’s Parlor is over here.”

Henri bowed as his translator mumbled the instructions, and they walked away together.

“General Leger,” I called, burying my face in my hands.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Tell Dad I’ll update him in an hour. I need to take a walk.”

CHAPTER 10

WE MADE IT THROUGH THE first day, the first dinner, and the first evening without further incident. As the cameras circled the dining hall, I could hear the men working them sigh in boredom. I didn’t address anyone in the group, and the boys themselves seemed too nervous even to speak to one another.

I could hear Dad’s thoughts as clearly as if they were my own.

This is dull! No one will want to see this! How will this buy us a single second let alone three months?

He glanced over at me a few times, begging me with his eyes to do something, anything, to make this worth enduring. I was at war with myself. I didn’t want to fail him, but any warmth on my part today would set a bad precedent. They needed to know that I wasn’t going to fawn over them.

I told myself not to worry. In the morning everything would change.

The following day the boys were dressed in their best, ready for the parade. An army of people swarmed on the front lawn, ready to prep us to go beyond the gates.

Dad was proud of this idea, my biggest contribution to the Selection so far. I thought it would be exciting to have a short parade, something never done before. I felt certain this would give everyone something to talk about.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” one of the boys greeted. I remembered Ean in an instant, and after yesterday it was no surprise he was the first one to speak to me.

“And to you.” I walked on, not slowing, though many of the others bowed or called my name. I only stopped to be briefed by one of the guards heading up the process.

“It’s a short loop, Your Highness. At under ten miles an hour, it should take twenty to thirty minutes to make our way around. Guards are lining the route for good measure, but everyone is so excited, it should be a very fun event.”

I clasped my hands calmly in front of me. “Thank you, officer. I appreciate your work to make this happen.”

He pressed his lips together, attempting to hide his proud smile. “Anything for you, Your Highness.”

He went to walk away, but I called him back. The officer puffed out his chest, so pleased to be needed again. I looked around at the swarm of young men, dazed by their number, trying to make the smartest choice.

I saw Henri’s wild hair blowing in the wind and smiled to myself. He stood on the outside of a group, listening to what they were saying and nodding, though I was sure he couldn’t understand anything going on around him. I didn’t see his translator and wondered if Henri had banished him for the day.

I searched again, hunting . . . and found one boy who really knew how to wear a suit. It wasn’t that he looked like a model but more like he understood the fine art of tailoring and had set his butler to work immediately on his choice for the day. Also, I couldn’t get over his two-toned shoes. Thank goodness I remembered his name.

“When I’m up there, I’d like Mr. Garner on one side and Mr. Jaakoppi on the other, please.”