The Selection: One of the Selected

8: The Conversation (part 2)

A/n: This is continued from last chapter; they are only split to keep the chapters around 1,000 words.

The change of atmosphere in the room was tangible. Everyone sat up straighter, or hair was adjusted, skirts smoothed.

'Ladies, if you don't mind, one at a time I'll be calling you over to meet with me. I'm sure you're all eager to eat, as am I, so I won't take up too much of your time. Do forgive me if I'm slow with names; there are quite a few of you!' Maxon smiled, and a ripple of giggles spread across the room. 

He went over to the girl on the far right, and took her over to the sofas in the corner, cameras pointed at them from afar. They spoke for a few minutes in hushed tones, and then both rose. He bowed to her, she curtsied and went back to her seat. She animatedly spoke to the girl next to her, before they were taken to the sofas. 

It happened again, each chat only lasting a few brief minutes. He had to get a feel for each girl in under five minutes. 

'I wonder what he wants to know,' Marlee turned to us and asked. 

'Maybe he wants to know which actors you think are the most handsome. Keep your mental list ready,' America said with a straight face, and we laughed quietly.

The room was filled with the gentle hum of chatter between the girls, as well as cameramen coming up to us and asking what our first days were like, or our maids, or the rooms. 

Marlee was called up first out of us, and she blushed as she walked over. She came back beaming, and America went over next.

Maxon laughed with her, and America fiddled with the hem of her dress. It seemed she was apologising, and he was accepting it. Maxon leant forward onto his knees, and I tried to lip read what he was saying.

Mistake? Loving? I frowned, assuming I had read them wrong. America shook her head, and Maxon's face showed a look of disappointment. They laughed, then Maxon ran his hand through his hair, looking lost. Their conversation was deemed too confusing for me to understand, so I gave up and let Marlee's carefree chatter consume me. 

Finally, she stood and curtsied, he smiled and bowed, and America came back to sit with us. I got up and sat with Maxon.

'Hello,' I smiled.

'Hello, my dear,' he smiled back. 

'My dear?'

'Well, yes, you are all dear to me...it's just a matter of who will be the dearest,' he explained. It sounded as if he was reciting it from memory.

'Have you looked at our pictures?' I asked, relatively scared for his response.

'Yes, a few, why?'

'Oh...just mine probably wasn't the best photo of me ever taken.'

He licked his teeth as if exasperated, but then stopped and squinted at my face. (A/n: If you didn't understand here, he thought she was complaining about her beauty)

'Was yours...how do I put this...'

I tried to stop myself from laughing, and saved him by saying, 'That flash on the camera, I am honestly surprised it didn't blind me.'

He chuckled and nodded.

Maxon searched for my name pin, and, upon reading it, raised an eyebrow and inquired, 'Lady Quinn Appleton, did you sleep alright?'

It seemed like a test, and I met his eyes.

'If this is your way of asking if that was me on the balcony last night, then yes, yes it was.'

He appeared satisfied by my reply, and gave one nod of his head.

'So, my dear, you are a Three?' he asked, but it didn't look like he was interested in what I would answer.

'Well...yes, but not in the way you think,' I offered. His attention was returned, and he lifted his eyebrows.

'Oh?'

'Yes, it's not the privileged life that perhaps the other Threes here have...' I trailed off, not wanting to seem as if I was looking for sympathy.

'Ah,' he said, understanding.

I wanted to ask what he and America had talked about, but it might be rude to mention. I noticed my foot was tapping uncomfortably, and quickly stopped, but Maxon had seen already.

'Are you alright, my dear? Is there anything you want to ask me?' His expression showed genuine worry, or concern. 

I started to shake my head, but stopped. 'Well, yes, but...no.'

'You ladies completely baffle me,' he mocked, shaking his head. His golden locks bounced as he did so, and unwillingly my heart fluttered. 

I gave a laugh, and he grinned back. 

'Well, my dear, I'm afraid our time talking has come to an end.' Maxon took my hand, and helped me up.

'Also, I don't want to seem rude, but I don't really like being called my dear?' I squeaked, it coming out more like a question.
'It's just, everything, it's so new, and I feel like one of many, but I don't mind, call me whatever, sorry...' I babbled. 

Way to go, Quinn. Make yourself sound rude and nervous infront of the future king, who literally has the power to kill you if he really wanted to. 

But, to my surprise, his face lightened in amusement and he darted his eyebrows up.

'Of course m- Lady Quinn. You may be surprised to know you aren't the first to ask that,' he winked and bowed. I frowned, curtsying, but Maxon didn't say anything further. With a final smile, I went back to my seat and sat down, easily dissolving into Marlee and America's conversation.

But America seemed distracted, distant, like the first time I met her. Marlee either didn't notice, or chose to ignore it, and continued her chatter. After a few moments, I put it down to the lack of breakfast we were getting.