The Selected | ✓

Chapter 18

Alexander keeps a tight grip on my right elbow the whole way to where ever we're going. I blow some hair from my eyes and try to keep up with his brisk pace, stumbling a little here and there. He doesn't seem to care that my dress and hands are still red with his sister's blood. If anything, he acts like it's not there.

He pushes open one of two large, gold-and-white doors at the end of the hallway that has Clara's room. Mason, who was pacing back and forth, freezes and looks up from the ground. One hand is under his chin, the other folded behind his back. The king and queen look up from where the queen sits on their bed. She gasps when Alexander all but throws me into the room. He shuts the door behind us.

Mason hurries to me and checks me for injuries, his hands resting on my upper arms. "Are you hurt?" He whispers. I shake my head.

"Alexander, what is going on?" The king demands.

Alexander turns to me. His eyes are a hard, closed off blue, lacking the warmth that they had before. I know that it doesn't matter what he thinks. To everyone else, it'll look like I killed Clara, and that's all that matters. "Well, Cassiana? Would you like to tell them?"

I sniffle, trying to regain my composture. It's hard, since I'm still kind of covered in blood. "Princess Clara is dead, Your Majesties."

The queen's whole body tenses, and so does the king's. Mason goes oddly still.

"Clara?" The queen asks in an eerily calm voice. "My Clara is dead?"

I nod. "Yes, Your Majesty." I look at the ground. My hair makes a curtain around my face.

"Who did this?" Mason demands. I can almost hear the wheels turning. "Was it you?"

I shake my head rapidly. "No! I wouldn't- I would never-" It takes all of my self-control to not cry. "I would never hurt Clara."

"Then who did it?" The king's voice is harsh. I flinch.

"Ansen!" The queen scolds him. "Can't you see that the poor girl is terrified?"

The king leans against a table, his head hanging between his arms. "My apologizies, Lady Cassiana. No one except guards have ever been murdered here thanks to the rebels."

"They did it." I say. "The rebels. They killed her. And I think they knew I would come running. There was a gun on the ground next to me. I think they wanted to frame me."

The queen nods and seems to finally take in my appearance. "Mason, why don't you walk Lady Cassiana back to her room to get washed up? And then escort her back as well, please. I would like to talk to her."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

After I'm blood-free and in a nice, black-and-gray sundress and black cardigan and flats, Mason leads me back to the king and queen's room. "I'm sorry you had to see that." He tells me. "I wish I could erase it from your memory."

"I wish I could've been in her place."

"Don't talk like that!" He snaps. He lets out a defeated breath. "I'm sorry, it's just- do you have any idea what they'd do to you if it was you they'd found?"

I shudder.

He stops and pulls me close, hugging me. He kisses the side of my head, making me lean my head against his shoulder. "I would have gone after them myself if they hurt you." I pull back a bit and look up at him. Alexander never said anything like this to me. I think Clara is wrong- I think Alexander and I wouldn't work.

Even though part of me wishes it would.

"Why would you do that?" I ask him. "Why for me?"

He brushes some of my hair back and tucks it behind my ear. He looks around before pulling me behind a pillar, out of the way. Golden sunlight streams through high windows. "Because...because I love you, Cassiana. I have since the moment I saw you on that screen."

Something flutters in my chest. "I-I love you too." I think I do. I'm pretty sure.

He smiles and slides his hand through my hair, his fingers tangling in the damp locks. He presses his forehead against mine. For a minute, we just look a each other. Then he leans in and kisses me.