But there was nothing.

I wanted Henri to know that I saw what he felt. I could tell in every smile and every gesture that he really cared about me. And, despite my best efforts, I cared about him, too. I worried about how much I would regret it, but there was only one way to express that feeling.

I closed the distance between us and placed a hand on his cheek. He stared into my eyes as if he’d discovered something truly valuable, something rare that he might never see again. I nodded slowly, and he lowered his lips to mine.

Henri was scared. I could feel it. He was afraid to touch me, afraid to hold me, afraid to move. I didn’t know if it was because I was a princess or because he’d never done this before, but that kiss was so vulnerable.

That made me love it even more.

I pressed my lips into his, trying to tell him without words that this was okay, that I wanted him to hold me. And finally, after a moment of hesitation, he responded. Henri held me like I was delicate, like if his grip was too tight, I’d crumble. And his kisses were the same way, only now, instead of being driven by fear, they were motivated by what felt like reverence. It was an affection almost too beautiful to endure.

I pulled away, slightly dizzy from the kiss, noting that his eyes looked pained, but he wore the tiniest smile.

“I should go,” I said again.

He nodded.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

I moved slowly until I was out of his sight, then I ran. My head was swimming with thoughts that I didn’t understand. Why did it bother me so much when Gavril picked at Henri? Why did I have to keep Fox when he should have left? Why did Kile—for goodness’ sake, Kile!—keep popping into my mind?

And why was it so terrifying even to ask those questions?

When I got to my room, I flung myself into bed, feeling disoriented. As angry as I was at Gavril for bringing it up, it did bother me that I couldn’t speak to Henri, that I couldn’t communicate anything intimate to him because of how uncomfortable it would be to go through Erik. As unnerved as the thought made me, if I was going to tell anyone something personal, it would probably be Henri. I felt safe around him, and I knew he was smart, and I admired his passion. Henri was good.

But I didn’t speak Finnish. And that was bad.

I rolled over onto my back in frustration, yelping when something dug into my spine. Reaching around, I felt that it was a knot. I was still wearing Henri’s shirt.

I untied it and, despite how absurd it was, pulled it up to my nose. Of course. Of course he smelled like cinnamon and honey and vanilla. Of course he smelled like dessert.

Stupid Swendish baker with his stupid spices.

This was making me asinine!

This was why love was a terrible idea: it made you weak.

And there was no one in the world as powerful as me.

CHAPTER 28

AT BREAKFAST I WAS STRUCK by a number of things. First was Henri trying to catch Erik up on everything that had happened the night before. Erik’s eyes kept darting over to mine and then back to Henri, and he looked like he was trying to calm him down. I thought for sure Henri would be elated today as the second person in the Selection to get a kiss. Instead, he seemed frantic.

Across from Henri, Kile’s confused gaze flipped back and forth between him and Erik, as he clearly didn’t know enough words to follow even a fraction of the conversation. He slowly spooned food into his mouth without trying to interject.

I also noticed that Baden was trying to get my attention. He gave me a small wave and nodded toward the door. I mouthed “Later” and did my best not to be irritated by him neglecting protocol again.

But the worst by far were Mom and Dad surreptitiously peeking over at me, obviously wondering how much I knew about the uprising.

I cleared my throat. “So, did I do okay last night?”

Dad’s face finally broke into a smile. “I was impressed, Eadlyn. After such a trying week, you were incredibly poised. When Henri got up there and you were so generous with him, it was a wonderful thing to watch. And I’m happy to see that maybe some of them are . . . appealing to you. Gives me hope.”

“We’ll see where that goes,” I hedged, “but I did promise you three months, and I think it will take me at least that long to figure any of this out.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he said, looking as if a thousand memories were flooding his head. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I watched his sweet, wistful smile, and I could see how much this whole thing meant to him. “Will you be disappointed? If I get to the end and there’s no engagement?”

“No, dear. I won’t be disappointed.” He only barely accented the word, but it sent me into a sudden tailspin of worry.

What would it mean for me when I got to the end and was still single? If we weren’t just dealing with post-caste confusion anymore and trying to quell an outright rebellion, three months wasn’t enough to fix this. In fact, two weeks had already disappeared in a rush.

This wasn’t going to be enough.

And then I understood why they might want to keep any hint of unrest from me: If I thought this was completely pointless, would I quit? If I quit, then there really was nothing.

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” I said. “It’s all going to be fine.”

He put his hand over mine and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sure you’re right, dear.” Then, taking a deep breath, he went back to his coffee. “I meant to tell you; the background checks are done. If we had made a few calls before the Selection, we would have known that Burke had anger issues and that a girl at Jack’s school reported him for inappropriate behavior once. It also turns out Ean spends almost all his time alone. I don’t think that’s anything worth sending him home for, but we should watch him.”

“Ean’s actually been pretty generous.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. But I have noticed he’s a bit of a loner. Not sure why though; he’s a good conversationalist.”

Dad sipped his coffee and stared at Ean. “That’s strange.”

“Anyone else I need to worry about?” I asked, not wanting him to linger on Ean. Isolated didn’t mean troublemaker.

“There was one who had some bad grades, but nothing to kick up a fuss about.”

“All right then. The worst has passed.” I tried to look encouraging.

“I certainly hope so. I’m going to have a special team continue to look into this. I wasn’t as diligent as I should have been, and I’m sorry for that,” he confessed.

“But on the plus side, I could have actual dates to talk about next Friday.”

He chuckled to himself. “True. So maybe give someone you haven’t talked to yet a chance. I promise, it is actually possible to meet with all of them.”

I surveyed the mass of boys. “I might not be in the office this week.”

He shook his head. “Not a problem. Get to know them. I’m still pulling for you to find someone, even if part of you thinks it’s pointless.”

“I might remind you, that wasn’t your goal when you proposed this.”

“All the same.”

“There are just so many. Anyone you don’t like?”

He squinted. “As a matter of fact . . .” Dad gazed over each of their faces, trying to find one in particular. “That one. Green shirt.”

“Black hair?”

“Yes.”

“That’s Julian. What’s wrong with him?”

“This might sound trivial, but when you were complimenting the others last night, he didn’t smile or clap for any of them. Not a good attitude to have. If he can’t stand being in their shadows temporarily, how would he handle being in yours for the rest of his life?”

For all the mental time I spent debating how much he honestly believed in me as a leader, that statement made it all a waste. Of course he saw me as a leader.

“And this might also sound trivial, but I don’t think you’d make attractive children.”