I finally maneuver the boat to the pond's edge. As royalty, I have been taught that a lady never sweats, but rather, she perspires. Right now, I'm straight up sweating. I mean, an actual droplet drips into my eye and stings. That has never happened to me before. I would complain but I have a feeling Gunner would make me more ashamed than I already am.

He's been mumbling phrases that are not comprehensible to a lady's ears.

Julian is waiting for me with a sympathetic look on his face. He has set a plank on a rock to provide me with a way to exit the boat.

I'm thrilled. I tear off my life vest and offer a flip wave of goodbye to Gunner. Then I take Julian's hand and allow him to help me out of the boat in a gentlemanly fashion. When I am on dry –well, muddy—land, I turn back and smile smugly at Gunner. His face is splotchy red and I can hear him gritting his teeth.

"Your Highness?" Julian politely leads me away from my staring match. With effort, I try to center my thoughts on this new boy and this new date. How on earth did my father do this in his Selection?

"Your turn!" I say to Julian with a smile. He blushes. It's adorable. His face is appealing, long and angular with wide set eyes. I thank him for the makeshift ramp.

"I thought you'd like a more independent way to dismount," he says, and then shrugs. "I hope you don't want to go back out. I'm not a boat person. Sorry."

"Oh! Not at all." I splay out my palms. Shiny red bumps are already swelling right at the juncture where my fingers meet my palm. "I think my rowing days are over."

Julian bites his lip. "Shall we take you to the infirmary?"

My heart does a little flip. Kile is still in the infirmary. Maybe—

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gunner stomping up the path toward the castle. Guilt wars with my giddy desire to see Kile. I didn't really give Gunner a chance. Whether he deserves it or not isn't really my decision. I won't do that to Julian.

"I'm okay. I'll see to them later. For now, I want to be with you, Julian." I look him in the eyes. His are a pale shade of hazel. "If you're not a boat person, what kind of person are you?"

He answers without hesitation, something I find appealing.

"More of a horse person."

I beam. "Shall we stroll and talk horses?"

Julian offers me his hand and I gingerly take it. He is careful with my palm, and I quickly warm to his kindness.

I marvel at how many men I have held hands with in the past month. Each one is different: bigger, warmer, drier, twitchier. Julian is a middle ground but his easy chatter is top notch. It soothes my temper, which I gave into with Gunner.

I ask Julian about the farm he lives on and the horses his family breeds. He is animated, and we walk along the edge of the lake making lively conversation. I tell him about my horse, my riding lessons, and which countries we prefer to buy from.

I pause under a weeping willow so we have a bit of privacy and catch my breath, motioning for him to sit down. He takes off his jacket and lets me sit on it, for which I thank him.

"Long morning?" he asks.

I nod. "You wouldn't believe it."

"And now you have two dates and the rest of the evening to work. How do you do it? I'd die if I had to be cooped up inside an office all day. I am used to fresh air all day on the farm, working with my hands. I love it." He has a wistful expression in his eyes. I know he didn't mean to eliminate himself from the Selection but that is exactly what he just did.

I like him though. We chat for a good while and then he teaches me how to whistle with a long blade of grass. It's gross at first but by the time I accomplish it, I feel quite proud. I can't wait to show Osten.

When we return to the guards, I realize that I am not ready to go back to work. While I could easily fit in a couple hours before the scheduled bonfire, I agree with Julian. There is something to spending the entire day outside. I've never done that.

"Heath, please make arrangements for dinner to be served out here, picnic style, and then the bonfire. Maybe some tents and a band? A dessert table? Let's make a party of it!" I continue with instructions and I enjoy watching Julian come to life with his own ideas. I take many of them and we wave Heath off to carry out the plans, albeit with a horrible scowl on his face.

"I think we just ruined his night," Julian remarks, shaking his head at Heath's impressive scowl.

"Don't mind him," I say, "he's like that."

"He has a hard job, I wouldn't want it."

"What, watching over me?"

"Oh no, I didn't mean it like that. Just, with the riots, it's not easy knowing how to keep your family safe. It's a lot of pressure."

I think about that. "Thank you, Julian. I should be more patient with him. I need reminding of that."

"Oh, I didn't mean--"

"I know," I pat his arm. "I know. Thank you all the same."

Boys start arriving after hearing that our date has opened up into a party picnic. The excitement is contagious. I sip on champagne and tense at each new face that rounds the bend of the path, hoping each time that it will be Kile. I know he's probably not well enough to attend, but I miss him. I want to joke with him about how awful Gunner was and how awful I was back. I think Kile will help me laugh it off. I want to show my hard won blisters to him and maybe get some sympathy kisses. I sigh. Who knew that boy could kiss.

"I hope you're thinking of me," Ean murmurs, and sidles up beside me. "Because you have a dreamy, fuzzy look about you that just makes me want to..." he hesitates.

I turn and face him. His eyes glow in the evening sun and streaks of gold glint in his tawny hair.

"I shouldn't speak to you like that," he looks at his feet and shakes his head.

I finish my flute of champagne.

The liquid courage emboldens me enough to say, "Go ahead, Ean. Say it."

"Makes me want to kiss you..." his voice is husky and I want to thread my fingers through his hair and tug him close so that he can prove his words.

What makes me pause is the audience, and my hands. They sting like a burning poker is pressing into each finger joint. He seems to notice my discomfort. Before I can explain it, he changes the topic.

"Want to rate the desserts? Top three?" he says in a more playful tone. "There's a whole table full."

"You're on. Then a taste test will be in order."

We are joined by Apsel and we all rate the entire table of sweets by preference. Then we sip champagne and feed each other bites of each type. I feel more relaxed than usual and I extoll the virtues of my top pick, while exaggerating the flaws of their favorites. I can tell they are wishing the other would leave, but I try to ignore that by indulging in another glass of champagne. It works.

I barely care when Osten begs Ean to help him find sticks to roast marshmallows and Ean agrees instantly.

I scratch my forehead and say slowly to Apsen, "He scores points for making nice with my sibs, but loses them with how relieved he seems to get away from our awkward trio." I hold up three fingers.

"Or...maybe he was just full of sugar," Apsen politely suggests.

"Amateur," I say, plowing a forkful of death by chocolate cake into my mouth. Apsen does the same and we laugh.

Apsen and I click. He is very self-assured. Maybe it's because he has three sisters. We both love fruit but not so much merengue. He speaks of his students with such emotion that I know he's a great teacher. They must be missing him. He says he's writing them updates and making it into a lesson of itself: decorum, royal heritage, etiquette, history. I marvel at his intelligence. But again, I can't imagine a prince consort keeping a teaching position. I can't ask him to give up his passion and the kids who need him, just to be selfish. Especially when I feel no spark, not like I have with—

Someone tugs my shirt and I turn to see Hale in a spectacular pinstripe casual suit, with wingtips and a fedora.

"You look amazing!" I blurt out, and then a blush overwhelms my face.

"Can I speak with you? I have to ask you something." He looks drawn and worried.

My first thought is that he's quitting the Selection. Because of me.

"Is it my jeans?" I ask, bumping my knees together and then spinning in a circle.

"Please? In private?"

"Sure," I nod deeply. "I'll be back shortly, alright?" I say to Apsel.

"Alright," he says. I pass him my plate and empty glass.

"Don't give up on the flan!" I call back as I let Hale lead me to the edge of the party.

Apsen salutes me in reply and I giggle.

When two guards try to flank me, I ask them to hang back. When one tries to protest, I give him my best stern stare and say, "Fifty feet. No closer." And he falls back.

Hale pulls me further into the dense pines that make up the first layer of the actual forest. I'm not crazy about him creating a private moment like this, but I can still see the party. Edwin is feeding the bonfire with more glee than a non-pyromaniac should enjoy. Osten is directing two boys and some staff to move the S'mores table closer to the fire circle. Still no sign of Kile. After this, maybe I can sneak away and find him. Bring him a slice of that lemon drizzle cake he likes.

Hale tugs me several more feet before I pull my hand out of his. I blow on my stinging blisters and compose a tirade that will hopefully sting him as much. He used to be one of my favorites. He is so tall and lean, but he moves with a fluid, inherent elegance.

He darts behind a huge oak and gestures for me to follow. What is he doing? Freaking me out, that's what. We are getting to the real forest now, and I have to squint to see the fire and the other guests. I plant my feet.

"Hale, stop. What is it? I'm not running into the woods with you! I'm needed as hostess of that party. Can't this wait?"

He bends his head to be heard, speaking in a hushed whisper.

"I have to ask something private. It's awkward, but please remember I'm just trying to look out for you."

"What is it?" I ask, shivering. The air is cooling and the scent of smoke and pine makes me nervous. Not the usual evening-in-the-castle scents.

"Do you know where Kile was during the invasion?"

I blush hot and fast. "No, of course not. I assume in his room?"

No way am I admitting that I am certain of this because I was with him--in his bed.

Hale shakes his head. "It was ten o'clock. He was up. Everyone was up."

"Oh, I...what is this about...my guards will worry if I'm gone too long."

Hale looks over his shoulder, but not toward the bonfire. He squints into the thick part of the woods. He edges even closer to me, so the toes of his wingtips are flush with my boots. I get an anxious skittering in my gut.

"Hale?"

"I told you I'd do one thing to win you over each day. This one is huge."

His dramatic pauses are killing me. "Hale!" I prompt. "Spill it!"

"I saw him with the rebels."

"Yes," I splutter, "he fought them out of my room."

"No, I saw him pointing out your room, like he was with them." Hale's eyes are wide and his lips tremble. He believes what he's saying.

"No," I shake my head, stepping backwards.

My back slams into a hard chest and I spin around to find myself practically in Ean's arms. I sway, maybe the information or the smoke making me suddenly dizzy. Ean gently grips my shoulders until I have my balance back.

He murmurs, "It's not safe to be sneaking around."

"I don't want to!" I say in a shrill voice. It grates my own ears. I fold into Ean's chest and close my eyes for a second. The future queen does not freak out in public. She does not get drunk and she does not get caught in a compromising rendezvous. I shake my head and try to dislodge the thoughts Hale planted there about Kile.

"May I escort you to the others?" Ean asks softly, into my hair.

"Yes, thank you," I say, melting with gratitude. If he hadn't shown up...I'm not sure what Hale's intentions were.

Impulsively, I thank Ean again by going up on tiptoes and kissing his cheek. His light stubble grazes my lips and a shiver snakes down my spine. People talk about chemistry and pheromones. Right now, I buy it all. Something about this boy makes me feel cherished, alive, beautiful. And...turned on.

Ean smiles and leans in to me. For a second I think he's going to kiss me for real. I hold my breath, wishing for it.

"Eadlyn, I swear to you what I said was true. Don't hold my honesty against me," Hale pleads.

Without looking back, I link arms with Ean and head back toward the clearing.

When we are almost there, Ean says ruefully, "I wasn't sure if you were enjoying your time with him. I think whomever you decide to spend time with and to get to know should not be in hiding. You know? With all that is happening, I think he should be more aware of that. Heath was looking all over for you. He almost made an announcement."

"Oh, no," I moan. "That would ruin a perfectly lovely night."

He smiles at me, that dashing smile with his caramel hair, it sinks into my skin and turns me all melty. I take his hand. I feel safe with him. Almost like we already have an agreement. I don't have to worry about pretending around him. He knows I might not be capable of leading and still finding love and he is okay with that. I won't hurt him, and I won't get hurt.

As if reading my mind, he says, "I'm here if you need me, Eadlyn. You can trust me. I'm looking out for you. I always will."

"I know," I say, and I peck his cheek again. This time he beams and my heart starts tripping in my chest. Such a handsome charismatic man on my arm, devoted to me.

"I appreciate you. I do. I don't always show it, but I like counting on you, as my..."

"Back-up?" he grins. "I'm good with that, Eadlyn. It's an honor. I don't have to shove the others out of the way for you to know I'm standing here, waiting."

I smile sweetly at him and realize the press is having a field day capturing this moment we are sharing.

To the side of the press is a small cluster of the Selection boys. The ones I have not spent much time with. They are watching us, and their expressions range from disgust to dejection. They think I'm playing favorites.

I am not being fair. I barely know them. Ean is handsome, charismatic, and a loner. I think the loner part is something that draws me to him. But this isn't a schoolyard or a normal social scene. This is a contest and I am the judge, along with all the people of Illea. And for every boy I snub, there is a region of my country that feels that slight, and hurts too.

"Find me a drink?" I ask Ean. I tilt my head in the direction of the boys.

"Ah," he says. And I don't need to explain any further. He nods and disappears. I like that boy.

I smooth my clothing. This is the longest I've spent in one outfit in ages. I should change, but I'm comfy and the drinks have made me flush with a special rosy warmth. I don't want to go inside.

The clicks of the cameras start to feel like cannon balls crashing into my peace of mind. I close my eyes but it does not help. The weight of my future bears down on my shoulders: the choices, responsibility, the work. Everyone watching.

A small hand slides into mine. I open my eyes to find Osten standing next to me looking concerned.

"You okay?" he asks, his brows pinched down. "Too many S'mores?" He nods like we are partners in the same crime.

"I love you, Osten," I say, and I crash down to my knees and give him a bear hug.

With absolutely no hesitation, he wraps his wiry little arms around me and squeezes me just as tightly. The tension leaves my body and floats up with the bonfire smoke. Keep it simple, Eadlyn, I think. My mom is ok, the castle is secure, I have a bright boy by my side, and a pack of eager gentlemen waiting to impress me.

"Your hair is so crazy tonight," Osten says, picking up a long lock and holding it out from my head. "I like it."

When was the last time I let my hair down? It's tumbling around me, tangled and flyaway, now completely out of the chignon. When I was little, maybe four, I used to let it loose and run about, playing in the castle's gallery or ballroom, making up wild games to pass the time. Soon after that age, I was coiffed by a maid, instructed to sit still, wear dresses, smile demurely.

"Me too," I say, ruffling Osten's hair the way Ahren used to. He always grumbled about Ahren doing that but I think he liked it. Proving my point, he ducks his head to hide a smile. Just then, the band starts up again.

I spread my arms out and twirl, letting the cool air revive me and wash away the odd taint of Hale's accusation.

I gesture for the Selection boys to join me and suddenly it's as simple as a jazzy tune and a beautiful night. Osten is holding my hand and we're laughing, dancing, and spinning.

Flashbulbs go off. I am handed a champagne glass. I dance with several boys, making up moves and more often than not crashing into them on accident.

Finally, I collapse on a bench. The boys surround me and continue drinking and making merry, as if I'm the pied piper. I listen and laugh as they make up contests like skipping the most stones and balancing spoons on their noses. Osten wins that one and they actually carry him around on their shoulders for a whole song.

My cheer for Osten's victory is the loudest.

The food smells mingle and create a heavenly aroma that seems to hover in the air with the dimming sunlight. It's that cool part of night when the dusk is just beginning to flirt with the night. There's a magical word for it: the gloaming. I feel light, especially after Ean hands me another glass of champagne. With him by my side, I chat with Linde, another Selection boy who I have not spent much time with. The fire is mysterious the way it plays with the features of his face and I find myself staring mutely at him. He handles it well, asking me about my favorite books and movies and when I stay silent he smoothly explains his own. When he wanders off to find chocolate at my request, I beckon Alex over.

Alex launches right in. He elaborately explains his idea to overhaul the military system. He is very detailed. I find my blinks lasting longer and longer. When Heath appears, I hope he is going to escort me inside to my soft bed. But no, he is interested in lecturing me.

"You Highness, please do not send my men away from their duties, no matter what your impulse for privacy may be. They cannot question who is giving them their orders. Me, I am."

I hide behind Ean and the boys laugh.

I accept another glass of champagne from a waiter while listening to Heath teeter between aggravation and concern.

"I must object, Your Highness. Several times today I would almost suspect you were evading my security purposefully," he frowns at me and then glares at the flute of champagne in my hand. "And now I assume you are ready to call it a night?"

"Should he be talking to you like that?" Alex asks. I notice Ean's fists are clenched, at the ready. Waiting for me to say the word. I kind of like it but Heath is my guard. Deep down, I know I am at fault.

"Sorry," I say to Heath. "Okay?" We're more like squabbling siblings at this point. I'm not acting like a queen and he's not pretending I am.

He clamps his mouth shut and seems shocked that I apologized to him. In fact, everyone around me is silent. But then Julian saves the day and breaks out the hula hoops and they make it a drinking game. I nibble on delicacies and chat more with Alex, trying hard not to hold Milla against him. He's strong minded, very into strategy, and has definite opinions on Illea's extremely peaceful diplomacy efforts.

"I'm just saying expansion is everything. Land is the ultimate sign of power. Location. And you start where you're at--so for us it will be at the borders. Expanding them." Alex stares at me with piercing intensity. I get a weird feeling that he thinks I will make these changes right now. Like I'll pull out my phone and make a call and his strategic theories will be put into action.

"You're seriously giving her advice?" Ean hisses.

I smile kindly and say, "Oh, it's alright. I don't have to agree just because I listen."

I notice Hale standing at the outskirts of the crowd. He shoots me an odd look. I avert my eyes.

"I want to know what you think," I say to Alex with an exaggerated nod. "And I want to know what you think." The night is taking on a twinkly quality that is very light and funny.

Ean smiles tenderly at me. "That's the same thing," he murmurs.

"Not necessarily," I reply. His eyes dance with a joke I don't quite catch. "Knowing what you think and thinking you know are totally different." I narrow my eyes and consider how to explain when I lose that thought and move on to a better one. "I don't know some of you at all, like Calvin. I want to know what you think."

Calvin's head whips up from the taquito he is dissecting. I basically picked him because I remembered his name first.

"What about that inconvenient uprising?" I ask. "What should the royal response be? I have to make a grand, super good speech in three days. I'm stumped. My future lovey will have to give me good advice and be a...what do you call it? A boarding sound. No, a sounding board."

Everyone pins their gaze on Calvin. He looks rather queasy.

"I didn't mean to put you on the spot," I say, shrugging. "I can take a raincheck on that advice. What about the rest of you?" The boys get quiet and watch me. "My prince consort will have to tell me what they think." I wonder if they all have something to say and are too scared or if they are that shocked that I am being so blunt. This was probably a bad idea to bring up at a bonfire while possibly slightly tipsy.

Edwin speaks up, "If I was consort, I'd agree with whatever you said." His words are slightly slurred. "And just make sure you were smiling in bed every night."

Catcalls and hoots break out. So inappropriate. But also funny. I let out a laugh.

The crowd loosens up, breaking into smaller discussions. I hear a lot of passionate feelings about the invasion of the castle: anger, outrage, fear. But no one has the gumption to talk about it directly to me. It kind of irks me. I need a braver dude than that.

Sulkily, I stare at the roaring fire. It makes me suddenly quite dizzy. When did it get so huge? It's the width of a picnic table and as high as me. I am fifteen feet away and the heat hits my face like a point blank hair dryer.

"Um," I tug on Ean's shirt sleeve. "Is this fire kind of out of control?"

At first he gives me a placating smile but then he double takes and widens his eyes at the blaze.

He shouts at Edwin, Calvin, and Apsel and they set to work tamping it back. In my opinion, they make too much of it, shouting orders at each other and acting like they are saving the world. Hey, I want to point out. It was the only woman present who noticed the stinking problem.

The others help the staff clear up the tables of food. The evening is closing down, yet I feel a frenetic energy surging through me. An urge to be heard, maybe.

I step backward and snag another glass of champagne on my way up the path to the castle. I glance around for Heath. I don't see him, just nameless guards helping to clean up the party. I'm going to do it again. Go solo.

It's a good thing I don't have a troop of guards following me, because I am not walking in a straight line. I try to overcompensate. I'm vaguely aware that I'm zigzagging.

I pause and tip my head all the way back. The stars are gorgeous, like little beacons of hope. They may be far away, dying gasps of gas, but they are magical in my eyes, and with each twinkle my heart dances. I never get to star gaze. I never get to be alone.

With a huge sigh, I plop down on the grass to the side of the path. I see the blaze of the bonfire to my left and hear the boys continuing a lighthearted debate about how to start our very own Illea Olympics, for morale. They are pushing the events they'd be good at, and I like trying to identify each voice. It'll be a shame to cut some this week. But I have to.

I think I hear Hale's voice calling my name. I don't feel like dealing with him. His words pushed needles of doubt into my soul about Kile. I'm disappointed that I let it affect me. I've known Kile forever. I've seen his battered face. I saw the hurt in his eyes when he said Leger's men had questioned him.

My jeans have grass stains on the knees and mud on the cuffs. My boots are scratched up. My sweater is an entirely different color now, an ashy cream from the bonfire smoke. My hair must be a mess and what little make-up I wore is surely running down my face.

When I stand up, I nearly fall flat on my face. The ground is swelling like the ocean and I don't have a rail to hold on to. I deep breathe until I am able to weave up the path, looking over my shoulder every couple feet. I swear I hear Hale's voice...or maybe it is Heath...

In my buzzed state, I probably shouldn't be relying on my voice recognition. Or my agility.

I think this one second too late as I take the last turn too tightly and I smash into a warm body.