Home > The Heir (The Selection #4)(20)

The Heir (The Selection #4)(20)
Author: Kiera Cass

“Don’t do that,” I started, trying to be firm without being rude. “You don’t want the cameras to catch you with your fingers in your mouth, do you?”

He whipped his hand down immediately. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

“Not going up there?” I nodded toward the massive float.

He smiled. “No, Your Highness. I think Henri can wave without interpretation.” Still, I felt the nerves buzzing around him.

“He’ll be right beside me,” I assured him. “I’ll try to make sure he knows what’s going on.”

The translator let out a massive sigh. “That makes this far less distressing. And he’s going to be so excited. He talks about you every waking moment.”

I laughed. “Well, it’s hardly been a day. I’m sure it’ll pass.”

“I don’t think so. He’s in awe of you, of everything, really. The experience alone is big for him. His family has worked hard to establish themselves, and that he finds himself in a place where he can have even a second of your attention . . . he’s so happy.”

I looked up at Henri, straightening his tie as he waited on the front of the float. “Is that what he told you?”

“Not in so many words. He’s aware of how fortunate he is, and he sees so many good things in you. He goes on and on.”

I smiled sadly. It would have been nice if he could say as much to me. “Were you born in Swendway, too?”

He shook his head. “No. First generation to be born in Illéa. But my parents are trying to hold on to our old customs and things, so we live in a small Swendish community in Kent.”

“Like Henri?”

“Yes. They’re becoming more and more common. When Henri was Selected, his family put out a call for a reliable translator, and I submitted my résumé, flew to Sota, and now I have a new job.”

“So you’ve only known Henri for . . . ?”

“A week. But we’ve already spent so much time together and get along so well, I feel like I’ve known him for years.” He spoke with a sweet affection, brotherly in a way.

“I feel so rude—I don’t even know your name.”

He bowed. “I’m Erik.”

“Erik?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. I expected something a bit different.”

He shrugged. “Well, that’s the closest translation.”

“Your Highness?” General Leger called, and that was my cue.

“I’ll watch out for him,” I promised, scurrying over to the float.

The ladder was a challenge. I had to conquer it while wearing heels and holding my dress with one hand, which meant I had to let go of one rung before grabbing the next, and I was particularly proud of myself for managing that on my own.

I brushed back my hair as I went to take my place. Henri turned to me immediately.

“Hello today, Your Highness.” His blond curls were lifted by the breeze, and he smiled brightly.

I touched his shoulder. “Good morning, Henri. Call me Eadlyn.”

He scrunched his face, a little confused. “Say to you Eadlyn?”

“Yes.”

He gave me a thumbs-up, and I patted myself on the back for putting him beside me. In seconds he left me smiling. I leaned behind Henri, looking between the others to find Erik on the ground and gave him a thumbs-up, too. He smiled and put a hand over his heart like he was relieved.

I faced Hale. “How are you today?”

“Good,” he said tentatively. “Listen, I wanted to apologize again for yesterday. I didn’t mean to—”

I waved my hand, stopping him. “No, no. As I’m sure you can imagine, this is a bit stressful for me.”

“Yes. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”

“I would want to be in yours!” I exclaimed, looking down. “I love these!”

“Thank you. Do they work all right with the tie? I like to experiment, but I’m starting to second-guess.”

“No. You make it all work.”

Hale beamed, thrilled to be past his first impression and on to the second.

“So, it was you who said you’d prove yourself to me each day, yes?”

“Indeed it was.” He seemed pleased I remembered.

“And how will you do that today?”

He considered. “If you feel the slightest bit unsteady, my hand is here for you. And I promise not to let you fall.”

“I like that one. You think you’ve got it bad, try this in heels.”

“We’re opening the gates!” someone called. “Hold on!”

I waved good-bye to Mom and Dad, then grabbed on to the bar surrounding the top of the float. It wasn’t too far of a drop if someone fell, but for the five of us across the front, there was a chance we’d get flattened by the float if we did. Hale and Henri were steady, just as I’d hoped, but plenty of the others clapped or shouted out self-encouragements. Burke, for one, kept yelling “We’ve got this!” even though all he really had to do was stand and wave.

The moment the gates opened, the cheering erupted. As we rounded the corner, I could see the first camp of cameras filming every second. Some people had signs supporting their favorite Selected boy or were waving the Illéan flag.

“Henri, look!” I said, leaning into him and pointing to a sign with his name on it.

He took a moment to understand. Then when he finally saw his name, he gasped. “Hey!” He was so excited, he lifted my hand off his shoulder and kissed it. Had anyone else done that it might have been unwelcome, but from him, the gesture felt so innocent, I wasn’t bothered at all.

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