All rights to Kiera Cass. This book is designed to make story edits that largely follow the original plot. So even in the edited parts it is often largely Cass's writing.
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Author's note 1: If you last checked before 1/5 6pmEST you might have missed a chapter because I posted two yesterday.
Author's note 2: Chapter 18 is really short and almost entirely Cass. Frankly i'm not sure why it was a separate chapter in the first place, but I am trying to keep the original chapter structure (for book2) so I'll just post two new ones today.
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(Cass)
CHAPTER 18
IT WAS MONDAY NIGHT. OR Tuesday morning. It was so late, it was hard to tell.
Kriss and I had worked all day finding appropriate swaths of fabric, having butlers hang them, choosing our clothes and jewelry, picking china, creating a rough draft of the menu, and listening to a language coach speak lines in Italian to us in the hope that some of it would stick. At least I had the advantage of knowing Spanish, which helped me pick it up faster; they were so similar. Kriss was just doing all she could to keep up.
I ought to have been exhausted, but all I could think about were Maxon's words.
What had happened with Kriss? Why was she all of the sudden so close to him? Should I even care this much?
But this was Maxon.
And try as I might to pull away, I still cared about him.
There had to be a way to figure this out. As I debated everything that was happening, attempting to separate my issues from one another, it looked like all the pieces fell into one of four categories.
(edit)
My feelings about Maxon. Maxon's potential feelings about me. Whatever was going on between Aspen and me. And my feelings about actually becoming a princess. I paused for a second before deciding, yes my feelings about potentially being a princess were wrapped up in there. And it made it so hard to be close to Maxon romantically. I know I like him, but if I can't be a princess anyway why go through the pain of admitting my feelings?
(cass)
Although of all the things swimming in my head right now, it actually felt like the princess thing might be the easiest to tackle. At least in that area, I had something the other girls didn't. I had Gregory.
I went over to my piano stool, drew out his diary, and hoped with all my heart that he would have some wisdom for me. He hadn't been born into royalty; he must have had to adjust. Based on what he'd said in his Halloween entry, he was already preparing for a big change in his future.
I pulled up the covers, protecting the words from the world, and dove in.
I WANT TO EMBODY THE OLD-FASHIONED AMERICAN IDEAL. I HAVE A BEAUTIFUL FAMILY, AND I'M VERY WEALTHY; AND BOTH OF THOSE THINGS SUIT THIS IMAGE BECAUSE THEY WEREN'T HANDED TO ME. ANYONE WHO SEES ME NOW KNOWS HOW HARD I WORKED FOR WHAT I HAVE.
BUT THE FACT THAT I'VE BEEN ABLE TO USE MY POSITION, TO GIVE SO MUCH WHERE OTHERS EITHER HAVE NOT OR COULD NOT, HAS CHANGED ME FROM SOME FACELESS BILLIONAIRE INTO A PHILANTHROPIST. STILL, I CANNOT REST ON THIS. I NEED TO DO MORE, TO BE MORE. WALLIS IS IN CHARGE, NOT ME, AND I NEED TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO PROPERLY GIVE THE PUBLIC WHAT THEY NEED WITHOUT BEING SEEN AS A USURPER. A TIME MAY COME WHEN I WILL LEAD AND CAN DO WHAT I SEE FIT. FOR NOW I WILL PLAY BY THE RULES AND GO AS FAR AS I CAN WITH THAT.
I tried to glean some actual wisdom from his words. He said to use your position. He said to play by the rules. He said not to be afraid.
Maybe that should have been enough, but it wasn't. It didn't even feel close to helpful. Since Gregory failed me, there was only one other man I could count on. I went over to my desk, pulled out a pen and paper, and scribbled a brief letter to my father.
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