This chapter is super short so I will be posting the next one RIGHT NOW! I'm also WORKING on something for the one shot collection but I've had much better luck with editing this week than starting anything new. My bad.

My sketchbook sat open on my lap, but I had yet to put pencil to paper. I worked best when it was quiet and I was alone, and the Women's Room—officially the Newsome Library, but Mom always flinched when she heard Celeste's name, so we never called it that—was packed and noisy. I wasn't complaining; I actually liked having guests around. The palace was often silent and empty. The chatter and fullness was a nice change, even if it did affect my concentration.

Mom was the center of attention, and that didn't surprise me at all. There was something about her that just drew people in. She'd grown up as a commoner, but she was born to be queen just as much as I was. Miss Marlee was almost as radiant, presumably because her son had returned for a surprise visit and her daughter announced the first grandchild in the same weekend. I feared she might spontaneously combust with maternal joy. Aunt May fit in with them easily. Camille was serene as always, watching Marie shake a rattle on the floor. Josie already had a pregnancy glow about her, which I hadn't even believed in until just now.

"Where's Grandma?" I asked.

"She's playing croquet with Kile and Ahren," Camille informed me. "I assume it's…not going very well."

Camille was probably right. My grandmother was not what you would call "a good sport". Then I wondered if Kile would want to see me tonight. Then I berated myself for jumping so quickly to those types of thoughts.

"That's sweet of the boys, though," Aunt May commented, nudging both Mom and Miss Marlee. "You raised good kids."

I was most likely exempt from that list. I'd grown up over the years, but not to the point I'd willingly play croquet with Grandma. I couldn't imagine what had driven Kile and Ahren to such things.

Marlee beamed—not that she'd really stopped beaming since midafternoon on Christmas Eve—with pride. "It's just wonderful to have everybody home. Was it really all your idea, Mer?"

Mom blinked. "To bring Kile home for Christmas? No, it was his idea. Why? Did he say that?"

Yes. It was one of the first things he said to me, before we were actually on speaking terms. Marlee didn't seem put off, but I wondered why he'd lied. Mom went on. "He called me months ago, saying he wanted to surprise all of you. I arranged his flight and kept quiet."

"I wonder why he asked you," Miss Marlee said thoughtfully. "It would have been much easier for Silvia or Eadlyn to reroute the flight without causing suspicion."

I knew why Kile hadn't called me: this whole plan had come to life in the six-month window of me wishing he was dead. But nobody needed to know about that—or anything else that had happened between Kile and I as of late.

Mom brushed it off. "Eady might be queen, but we all know I'm still the one who runs this country. No offense, sweetie."

Currently, that was the least of my problems. "It's fine."

"Besides, I got the job done, didn't I?" she reminded all of us. "Everyone was surprised, right?"

Very, very surprised.

Josie nodded along. "I didn't suspect a thing."

"I was devastated when he said he didn't want us to visit him this year," Miss Marlee recalled. Since Kile moved to Bonita after the Selection, the rest of the Woodworks had gone to see him for every major holiday. He'd only been back to the palace a handful of times until now. "Although…"

"Although?" Aunt May prodded. Even though she was almost forty, she had a nose for gossip usually only found in sixteen-year-old girls.

Miss Marlee actually needed very little prodding. "I was hoping, a little bit, that he was avoiding us because he was seeing someone and didn't want us to know yet."

"He didn't bring anyone to my wedding, Mom," Josie pointed out.

Not because he wasn't seeing anyone. Because she was too busy to come.

Obviously I wasn't actually going to say that. There was nothing good, I felt, that could come from sharing what had apparently been a secret from everyone, not just me.

"I know, I know," Miss Marlee said. "It's wishful thinking. I just keep hoping he'll meet someone and settle down."

For some reason, she glanced at me when she said it. My stomach turned, but there was no way she could know what had been going on, and there was no way I was going to say a word, either about Kile's (secret, apparently) (former) girlfriend or any of the reasons he had yet to settle down.

I wasn't so vain anymore to think I was the only thing keeping Kile from finding someone and getting married, but I knew I was part of it, at least for now. The way he kissed me the night before, the murmured words in my ear, wandering hands in the privacy of my room. I would choose that over settling down too, even if I knew it wouldn't last.

It didn't matter, really. Sure, I was holding Kile back and wasting his time, but I was only wasting a week of it. He'd go home on New Year's Day and settle down with one of those architecture girls his mother was apparently so keen on.

And I'd stay here. Alone. But that was a problem I'd made for myself; I couldn't blame Kile or anyone else for it.

I deserved it. This one week, I deserved it. It would do nothing to delay the inevitable—actually, the inevitable might even hurt more because of it—but I needed to hang onto this as long as I could, however badly it might end.

§

We gathered in the foyer to say goodbye to our guests. Ahren's family (and Kile) would thankfully be staying until the end of the week, but it was time for the aunts, uncles, and Grandma to scatter to the winds. It was for the best. Any more time together, even though the palace was far from close quarters, would result in a physical altercation between Mom and Uncle Kota. They'd patched things up after a long feud, but the peace was fragile. The croquet game from this afternoon had also elevated tensions, even though the boys had generously let Grandma win.

Once my grandmother had given me her standard dramatic goodbye with a few backhanded compliments mixed in ("You're so pretty, Eadlyn! How's your husband? Oh, wait…"), I hung back with Ahren and Camille. They'd already gotten past Grandma—I suspected, if given the choice, Grandma would prefer Camille as a granddaughter over me—and were now attempting to calm Marie enough for a nap. Babies did not understand time zones. So far, she had resisted Illéa time wholeheartedly, preferring to take her meals and naps exactly when she'd be taking them in France.

She'd make a good queen someday. Her ability to stick to a schedule was impressive.

Camille leaned towards me. Unlike her daughter (or husband, to be honest) she'd adapted to the time change effortlessly. I couldn't recall, actually, ever seeing Camille weary or looking anything less than flawless. Even right after she had the baby, she'd bounced back almost immediately. Perfection just came naturally to Camille. It had taken a long time for me to acknowledge that without resenting it.

"Should we work on planning the New Year's party tonight?" Camille suggested. "Meaning you, me, and Ahren. He has strong feelings about the color scheme."

"I do not!" Ahren protested, but yeah right. While my brother was nowhere near as bossy as I was, he was actually just as picky.

I was trying to pay attention, really—trying, just not succeeding. Across the room, past Mom and Aunt May either hugging or trying to strangle each other, Kile caught my eye. Had he even tried to get my attention, or was this just the crazy bug in my brain that ordered me to look at him whenever possible?

No, this was him. This time. Even with all this space between us, the other things I arguably should have given my attention to, I both saw and felt the spark when our eyes locked. So subtly I wondered if I'd imagined it, he tilted his head towards the stairs. A question.

And obviously, the answer was yes. Equally subtly (at least, I hoped it was subtle) I nodded back.

Years of diplomacy training had paid off in at least one way. I was able to return to my conversation with Camille while in my head, I was already halfway up the stairs. "That's a great idea. Just…let's talk later, not now. There's something I have to do."

Forget the guilt.

Forget holding him back.

I was taking what I could get.