Кира Касс – The Queen (страница 1)
COPYRIGHT
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins
FIRST EDITION
THE QUEEN Copyright © 2014 by Kiera Cass
Cover art © 2014 by Gustavo Marx/MergeLeft Reps, Inc.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
HarperCollins
Source ISBN: 9780008129767
Ebook Edition © DECEMBER 2014 ISBN: 9780008129774
Version: 2014-11-25
CONTENTS
1 Cover
3 Copyright
4 Chapter 1
5 Chapter 2
6 Chapter 3
7 Chapter 4
8 Chapter 5
9 Chapter 6
10 Chapter 7
11 Chapter 8
12 Chapter 9
13 Chapter 10
14 Chapter 11
15 Excerpt from
16 Keep Reading
17 About the Author
18 Books by Kiera Cass
19 About the Publisher
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CHAPTER 1
TWO WEEKS IN, AND THIS was my fourth headache. How would I explain something like that to the prince? As if it wasn’t bad enough that nearly every girl left was a Two. As if my maids weren’t already slaving away to fix my weathered hands. At some point I would have to tell him about the waves of sickness that crashed without warning. Well, if he ever noticed me.
Queen Abby sat at the opposite end of the Women’s Room, almost as if she was purposefully separating herself from the girls. By the slight chill that seemed to roll off her shoulders, I got the feeling that we weren’t exactly welcome as far as she was concerned.
She extended her hand to a maid, who in turn filed her nails to perfection. But even in the middle of being pampered, the queen seemed irritated. I didn’t understand, but I tried not to judge. Maybe a corner of my heart would be hardened, too, if I’d lost a husband so young. It was lucky that Porter Schreave, her late husband’s cousin, took her as his own, allowing her to keep the crown.
I surveyed the room, looking at the other girls. Gillian was a Four like me, but a proper one. Her parents were both chefs, and, based on her descriptions of our meals, I sensed she’d take the same path. Leigh and Madison were studying to be veterinarians and visited the stables as often as they were permitted.
I knew that Nova was an actress and had throngs of adoring fans willing her onto the throne. Uma was a gymnast, and her petite frame was graceful, even in stillness. Several of the Twos here hadn’t even chosen a profession yet. I guessed if someone paid my bills, fed me, and kept a roof over my head, I wouldn’t worry about it either.
I rubbed my aching temple and felt the cracked skin and calluses drag across my forehead. I stopped and stared down at my battered hands.
He would never want me.
Closing my eyes, I pictured the first time I’d met Prince Clarkson. I could remember the feeling of his strong hand as he shook mine. Thank goodness my maids had found lace gloves for me to wear, or I might have been sent home on the spot. He was composed, polite, and intelligent. All the things a prince should be.
I had realized over the past two weeks that he didn’t smile too much. It seemed as if he was afraid of being judged for finding humor in things. But, my goodness, how his eyes lit up when he did. The dirty-blond hair, the faded blue eyes, the way he carried himself with such strength . . . he was perfect.
Sadly, I was not. But there had to be a way to get Prince Clarkson to notice me.
I held the pen in the air for a minute, knowing this was pointless. Still.
My head throbbed. I closed my eyes, breathing slowly. I ordered myself to focus.
I was getting that nauseated feeling that sometimes came with the headaches.
I felt faint. I folded my letter and sealed it in the already-addressed envelope. I rubbed my temples again, hoping the slight pressure would give me some relief, though it never did.
“Everything all right, Amberly?” Danica asked.
“Oh, yes,” I lied. “Probably just tired or something. I might take a little walk. Try to get my blood moving and all.”
I smiled at Danica and Madeline and left the Women’s Room, making my way toward the bathroom. A bit of cold water on my face would ruin my makeup, but it might help me feel better. Before I could get there, the dizzy feeling swept over me again. Perching on one of those little couches that ran along the hallways, I put my head back against the wall, trying to clear it.
This made no sense. Everyone knew the air and water in the southern parts of Illéa were bad. Even the Twos there sometimes had health problems. But shouldn’t this—escaping into the clean air, good food, and impeccable care of the palace—be helping that?
I was going to miss every opportunity to make an impression on Prince Clarkson if this kept up. What if I didn’t make it to the croquet game this afternoon? I could feel my dreams slipping through my fingers. I might as well embrace defeat now. It would hurt less later.
“What are you doing?”
I jerked away from the wall to see Prince Clarkson looking down at me.