“Hey there, Leger. How you doing?” Charlie asked.

“Not great,” I confessed, placing the mail in his hands, not risking it being lost in a pile.

“We’ve all seen better days, haven’t we? At least they’re alive.”

“Did you hear about the girl who ran for them?” Mertin asked, spinning around in his chair. “Isn’t that something?”

Cole turned, too. He was a pretty quiet guy, perfectly suited for the mail room, but even he was curious about this.

Nodding, I crossed my arms. “Yeah, I heard.”

“What do you think?” Charlie asked.

I shrugged. It seemed that most people felt that America had acted heroically, but I knew that if anyone said that in front of someone who devoutly adored King Clarkson, they might find themselves in serious trouble. For now, neutrality was best.

“The whole thing is a little crazy.” I’d leave the perception of crazy good or crazy bad to him.

“Can’t deny that,” Mertin commented.

“Gotta get to my rounds,” I said, ending the conversation. “See you tomorrow, Charlie.” I gave him a little salute and he smiled.

“Stay safe.”

I went down the hall to the storeroom to grab my staff, though I didn’t see the purpose behind it. I preferred the gun.

As I rounded the stairs and landed on the second floor, I saw Celeste coming toward me. The moment she recognized my face, her whole demeanor shifted. It seemed that unlike her mother, she was at least capable of feeling shame.

She walked up to me cautiously, then stopped. “Officer.”

“Miss.” I bowed.

Her features looked sharp as she stood there, thinking over her words. “I just wanted to make sure that you knew the conversation we had last night was meant to be purely professional.”

I nearly laughed in her face. Her hands might have stayed safely on my back and arms, but there was no mistaking the flirtation in her touch. She had been walking the line of breaking the rules herself. After I told her I had been a Six before becoming a guard, she suggested I look into modeling instead of staying in the service.

Her exact words had been, “If this doesn’t work out for me, we’re one and the same now. Look me up when you’re out.”

Celeste wasn’t the kind of girl to wait around, so I didn’t think she was truly attached to me in any way, and I suspected that her lips were especially loose last night because she’d had a little too much to drink. But there was one thing that was absolutely clear after our conversation: she didn’t love Maxon. Not even close.

“Of course,” I answered, knowing better.

“I simply wanted to give you career advice. Such a serious caste jump is hard to adjust to. And I wish you luck, but I want to be clear that my affections are singularly devoted to Prince Maxon.”

I nearly called her on it. I was so close. But I saw the desperation in her eyes mixing with a consuming fear. In the end, if I accused her, I would accuse myself. I knew Maxon didn’t matter to her, and I wasn’t sure if any of these girls mattered to him—at least, not the way they should—but where would condemning her or playing some game get any of us?

“And I am wholly dedicated to protecting him. Good evening, miss.”

I could see the lingering question in her eyes, and I knew she wasn’t completely satisfied with my answer. But nothing could benefit a girl like that more than a little fear.

Inhaling, I rounded the corner to America’s room, aching to walk in. I wanted to hold her, to talk to her. I stopped in front of the door and put my ear to it. I could hear her maids, so I knew she wasn’t alone. But then I could make out her hitched breaths, the sniffs of her tired crying.

I couldn’t handle the fact that she’d been crying all day. That was the last straw.

I’d promised her parents that Maxon favored her, and that she would be comforted. If she was still in tears, then he’d done nothing for her. If I wasn’t meant to have her, he’d sure as hell better treat her like a princess. So far, he was failing catastrophically.

I knew—I knew—she was supposed to be mine.

I knocked on the door, not giving a damn about the consequences. Lucy answered, and she gave me a hopeful smile. That alone made me think I could be of help.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, ladies, but I heard the crying and wanted to make sure you were all right.” I gently moved past Lucy, walking as close to America’s bed as I dared. Our eyes locked, and she looked so helpless there, it was all I could do not to steal her away from this place.

“Lady America, I’m very sorry about your friend. I heard she was something special. If you need anything, I’m here.”

She was silent, but I could see in her gaze that she was taking every tiny memory of our last two years and stringing them together with the future we’d always hoped to have.

“Thank you.” Her voice was both timid and hopeful. “Your kindness means a great deal to me.”

I gave her the smallest of smiles while inside my heart was thrashing. I’d studied her face in a dozen shades of light, in a thousand stolen moments. With her words, I knew without a doubt: she loved me.

CHAPTER 4

AMERICA LOVES ME. America loves me. America loves me.

I had to get her alone, really alone. It would take some work, but I could make it happen.

Hours before my shift started the next morning, I was ready to go. I looked over all the guard posts, the cleaning rotations, the meal schedules for the royal family, the officers, and the help. I studied it until the lines overlapped in my head and I could see all the holes in the security. Sometimes I wondered if the other guards did this, too, or if I was the only one who looked close enough.

Either way, I had a plan. I just needed to get word to her.

My afternoon post was in the king’s office, where I had the extraordinarily boring job of standing guard by the door. I liked being on the move, or at least in a more open part of the palace. Honestly, anywhere away from the cold gaze of King Clarkson.

I watched Maxon attempt to work. He looked distracted today, sitting at his small desk that seemed thrown in the room as an afterthought. I couldn’t help but think that he was an idiot for being so careless with America.

Midmorning, Smiths, one of the guards who’d been at the palace for years, came rushing in. He darted over to the king, bowing quickly.

“Your Majesty, two of the Elite, Lady Newsome and Lady Singer, just got in a fight.”

Everyone in the room paused, looking at the king.