"How long was I out?" I ask with a fuzzy tongue and a pounding head.

"Not too long," Kile answers. "An hour, maybe two."

"Did they get the shot?" I ask.

He frowns, "Yeah, I guess." He rubs his forehead.

"What's wrong? Did I ruin it?" I ask.

In a strained voice, he says, "Next time let's decide together if it's worth it. It was awful seeing you go through that. No more of letting other people say we need to do something. Deal?"

I beam. "Deal." I dwell in the security of his sentiment. My whole life has been about other people saying I need to do something. His too, I guess. "I can't believe you carried me. You kinda got buff, you know that? Chest like iron and all that."

Kile scoffs out a surprised laugh. "Building houses will do that to a guy. I can't believe you are commenting on my pecs."

I let my head drop back on my pillows. "I'm changed. I only want to remember the light stuff. About the picnic? Your warm chest and strong arms are what I want to stay with me. The rest can auto-delete."

"I noticed the change. I like it."

I say in a deep, announcer-Gavril type voice, "A newfound appreciation for the lighter side of life."

"It's weird because you had a very dark time, but you've come back laughing more than before."

"My future is wide open now. I have no throne tied to my back. I can go with you and build houses. You might like me with a bit of muscle."

He waggles his eyebrows.

"I feel bad." I pick at my sheets. "I'm keeping you from the houses right now."

"Don't. I wouldn't be anywhere else," he says, grabbing my hand to hold. "The crown really weighed so heavily on you?"

I tilt my head. "More than I realized. Now I see everything that I can have without heading the monarchy. I can have you, a life of my own, maybe a business."

"Eady, the business woman. Yes, I can picture that. What would you do? Restructure and run one of the factories you saw?"

I like how he listens to me.

"Maybe I'd go into custom textiles. Or make eco responsible curtains for your houses, or maybe...if I get back to it...fashion. But like what you're doing. I could make stylish fashion functional for real people. The people of Illea deserve comfortable style no matter their jobs. I even think uniforms, coveralls, and scrubs could be tweaked to be more fashionable and efficient."

Kile mulls this over.

"I don't know what will happen with the throne," he finally says. "Honesty? It scares me. The coup is getting a lot of media coverage around the world. I don't know what I wish for Illea, but I want you to be happy. And even with the pain, you are happier now than I have ever known you."

"I guess it took being shackled for me to learn how to be free." I sigh. "The coup is serious. I can see Dad stressing overtime."

"He's right not to bother you with it," Kile assures. "Leave it to him."

I nod. "I have other things to deal with. Speaking of which. I'm dressed and awake. Want to go find Eikko with me? He isn't doing so well. I asked Heath about him and I have a feeling he wasn't telling me how badly off Eric is."

Kile frowns. "I haven't seen him at all."

"Want to come with me to say hi?"

"I wouldn't be anywhere else. I used to be jealous of him, you know. You only begrudgingly confided in me after a lifetime of knowing me. But him, you know all of a day or two and you are smiling, holding hands, and chatting like besties." Kile ducks his head and shuffles his feet.

"But you like him, right? He's a good guy," I say. "Give him a chance."

"Did you want to? I mean, give him a chance in the Selection? Do you wish he were a candidate?"

A jealous side of Kile Woodwork, I never thought I'd see the day.

I bite my lip and consider lying but I decide not to, those days are over.

"I did consider asking him to join, but then I realized he is not the one for me, just a friend. I was very confused during that time. The Selection is not a natural way to find love. It's so contrived and chaotic. And I had no experience prior with boys or dating. Except one exceptionally trying boy...who actually turned out alright."

"Alright," Kile rolls his eyes. "Alright. I'll show you alright when you are a little more healed."

"I look forward to it." Our eyes lock.

The energy in the room crackles. When it is almost too much between us, I say, "Shall we?"

"Let's," he says, putting out his arm. First, I grab a shrug. Then we step out and ask Heath to help us find Eikko's room. I do this mostly so he'll accompany us and help us with Erik if he's hesitant to open up.

I freak out rounding every corner. I am so grateful to have both Heath and Kile, and a bevy of random guards close by.

Kile holds my hand as we walk briskly down hallway after hallway to the employee wing. Heath taps on a door. It is not my Eikko who answers. It is a skeleton: a gaunt, hollow-eyed skeleton.

"Eikko!" I gasp. I draw him in for a hug and am startled by how bony he is. I feel his shoulder blades jutting out. His grip is loose and his eyes foggy.

"Eikko? May we come in? Maybe have tea with you?"

His eyes go from me to Kile and then to Heath. When they touch on Heath, his shoulders relax and he nods. "Certainly, your highness."

It's awkward. Socializing with the help. I'm used to common folk since I worked so many jobs with Hale but these guys are not used to me being around. They trip over themselves to help me when I am the one who wants to help by serving the tea.

Finally, we all have full cups. A tense silence fills the sparsely furnished room.

"Have you heard from Henri?" I ask.

Erik brightens a bit and fills me in. Henri is being courted by no less than three young women eager to know the kind man featured in the Selection. Eikko laughs when he says Henri is enjoying cooking for them.

"He's a genius in the kitchen," I remember.

"We aren't so bad," Kile chimes in for the first time.

We say at the same time, "Butter," and then giggle.

I hate to see how angular Erik has become, so I suggest, "Speaking of which, maybe we could have a snack?"

His face falls.

"In the royal kitchen. We can whip something up."

Erik looks at Heath with wide eyes.

Heath gives him a slight nod.

Erik stands. "Alright, as you wish."

We bee line to the kitchens and begin inventorying what is easy to make. We prepare a platter of cheeses and meats and crackers and fruit. We stand around the island munching on it. I make sure to personally stack several crackers and then pass them to Erik. He has to eat them then. Heath gives me a grateful smile.

Suddenly Eikko is sobbing. I hold him. I touch people much more freely now that I am back. It's an odd change since I had so little power over my personal space while captive. Now I want to exercise that freedom like I never did before.

"Talk to me," I murmur. Heath and Kile pretend to be busy arranging the plates.

"I failed you."

"No," I say firmly. "I am home. Let it be done."

"What happened? Did he rape you?" The kitchen goes silent. All eyes are on me.

I meet Kile's gaze and know that he has worked hard not to ask me that. Aside from the doctor who examined me initially, I haven't addressed this with anyone.

I realize I am ready to talk, and these boys are my best friends.

"No, he did not."

Kile turns away, his shoulders trembling. I go to him and we hug.

"I was afraid to ask," he says. "I know he hurt you. But in that way..."

I nod into him. "I am okay. He stopped Burke from raping me. He was weirdly protective of me while also being very cruel."

"Confusing," Kile growls. He's holding back some real fury.

"I think he tried not to but he ended up caring for you," Eikko says. "I could tell when he was here that he was hiding something. I thought it was his poor background, or his secret crush on you. He wanted your affection but acted too cool to admit it. This I know. Every time I spoke with you he eyed me. Later he'd cross examine me like I was his paid employee."

"Gathering logistics to steal her," mutters Kile who bites his fist and looks away.

Eikko looks around as if he is only now realizing he is not talking to himself.

"Pardon me," he murmurs and starts to flee to his quarters.

"No," I grab his arm. "Help me with something?"

"Anything," he says.

"It's a favor. You can draft work regulatory policy, right?"

"He's not classified to see it," Heath says solemnly.

Eikko nods.

"I'll take care of that. I need new, humane regulation drafted asap. It's criminal how the factories and marketplaces are being run, with no oversight of safety, medical, work conditions, or wage equity."

Eikko agrees and I fill him in more. Kile clears up and together we leave a more energetic looking Eikko. Heath grants us one of his rare smile in thanks.

Mom and Dad are waiting in my infirmary room when I return. They ask to speak to me without Kile. I hesitate, but he wants to change anyway so I agree.

Dad begins with a harsh, "Until you are favoring the monarchy, we need to limit the amount of people you speak with."

I guess they heard I was out and about the castle halls.

"I'm not changing my mind and I can't be sequestered forever. The minute it's safe for us to travel, I want to show Dad what I saw. You too, Mom."

Dad runs his hands through his thinning hair. He looks so tired.

He says, "That does not require you relinquishing the crown. It's your birthright. You were raised to lead. No one else has the training, the skill, the learning you have received."

"I'm not that person anymore."

"Of course you are," Dad says. "You are the one and only future queen: Princess Eadlyn, the firstborn of Maxon and America, beloved sweethearts of The Selection." He looks at Mom for reassurance, but she is biting her lip and watching me recoil at his description.

"This is very serious," she says, as if really listening to me for the first time. "She's serious, Maxon."

"You are still you! You had an awful ordeal but you are home. I can hold the reins until you are ready, but I'm tired and this is all unravelling. You can do this. I know you can. I raised you for it. Spent every day with you at my side teaching you everything."

"The Eadlyn Shreave you knew is dead." I set my lips in a firm line and stare at him. I know I'm being difficult but I also know I can't let my people suffer the way they have been.

Dad makes a noise like gagging and Mom races to hold him like he is about to fall.

I keep going, even though I know I'm hurting them both. I say, "My old self, the one raised to lead is dead. And she didn't die slowly or painlessly. It was fingernails against a cheese grater loud. It was excruciating. The worst was the mental agony. Knowing that Hale had a fair and sound point. Not in his methods, but in his principles. He would do anything for the people, something I always said but never put my heart behind."

"He's a monster! He hurt you, but he's gone now! You don't have to do what he says," Mom cries out.

"I'll never get over what happened to me. It's part of me. A scar. And it makes me different and I know you'll always love me but you'll have to learn to respect my decision not to lead."

Dad and Mom exchange a serious look. Mom walks over and locks the door.

Dad starts unbuttoning his shirt. I'm completely puzzled. Mom helps him pull it off. He turns his back to me.

I suck in an alarmed breath.

His back is a wasteland of scars. Whip slashes much like mine. Deep furrows in his skin across his broad back. The dark red ripples of skin cry out to me, reminding me that I don't know everything. Far from it.

"Dad, what happened? Did you get taken once also? By rebels?" Why wouldn't I have been told this?

He pulls his shirt back on. "I am still me. Even though this happened. Repeatedly. I was beaten but I was not broken. I knew my day would come to make a difference and it did. And I have tried. Now it is your turn. Your scars make you stronger. Tougher. But also, compassionate. Now it is who you are. You're right, you are different, I am sure. It is foolish of me to forget that. But you are a Schreave. My daughter. Nothing will change that."

Mom nods at him.

"How?" I feel tears running down my cheeks.

"My father used to beat me," Dad says flatly.

"My grandfather?"

"He had a temper and a difficult childhood. My mother was wonderful but she could never stand up to him. Finally, I did. Like you need to stand up to your fears and fight. Fight for our country."

"I am...how could he do that to you?"

Shaking his head, my father casts sad eyes on my limp form under the sheets of my hospital bed. "It's taken me a long time to be able to say this and mean it, but he loved me. He did. In his own way. His treatment of me was not okay. It was abuse. I hated it and would never treat another person that way. But I know he suffered his own demons and abuse. It helps me to understand, but not condone. With time, I have moved past the pain."

I look at Mom gazing proudly at Dad. She obviously admires the strength it took for him to endure the scars, and now to show them to me. They hold hands and sit with me for a while, until Kile reappears in casual clothes. He smiles broadly when he sees me sipping on some broth the nurse brought me.

"Real food. Big times."

He and my parents chat while I gaze upon his clean masculine lines. He is tall but not looming, broad but not buff, relaxed in his own skin. Especially since he's been back I've noticed this. He found a level of confidence while gone that has made him tolerate and even appreciate being back in the castle somehow.

My parents say bye and Mom hugs me extra long. Even though Dad usually waves, this time we hug tightly. With a knowing glance, he gives me a nod. Then my parents, the King and Queen of Illea, leave my room holding hands and smiling at each other like lovebirds. I admit to myself that if that is what I choose for my future, it might be pretty sweet.