CHAPTER 12

I WAS RIGHT. ASPEN HAD every corner of the palace memorized, and he knew exactly how to get us out of it.

“Are you quite sure about this?” Maxon asked as we got dressed in my room the following evening.

“We need to know what’s going on. I have no doubt we’ll be safe,” I assured him.

We spoke through the cracked-open bathroom door as he dropped the pieces of his suit to the floor and climbed into the denim and cotton a Six would wear. Aspen’s clothes were going to be a bit big on Maxon, but they would do. Thankfully, Aspen had found a smaller guard to borrow clothes from for me, but even then I had to roll up the hem of the pants several times to find my feet.

“You seem to trust this guard a lot,” Maxon commented, and I couldn’t figure out the tone he was using. Perhaps he was anxious.

“My maids say he’s one of the best you have. And he got me to the safe room that time the Southerners came, when everyone was running late. He always looks ready to go, even when things are quiet. I have a good feeling about him. Trust me.”

I heard the rustling of clothes as he continued. “How did you know he could get us out of the palace?”

“I didn’t. I just asked.”

“And he simply told you?” Maxon replied, astonished.

“Well, I told him it was for you, of course.”

He made a sound, something like a sigh. “I still don’t think you should come.”

“I’m going, Maxon. Are you done yet?”

“Yes. I need to get my shoes on.”

I opened the door, and after a quick once-over, Maxon started laughing. “I’m sorry. I’m used to seeing you in gowns.”

“You look a bit different when you’re not in a suit yourself.” And he did, but not in any way that was close to comical. Even though Aspen’s clothes were too big, Maxon looked good in plain old denim. The shirt had short sleeves, and I got a peek at those strong arms I’d only ever seen the one time in the safe room.

“These pants are far too heavy. Why are you so partial to jeans?” he asked, remembering my request from my very first day in the palace.

I shrugged. “I just like them.”

He smiled at me, shaking his head a bit. He walked over to my closet, not asking if it was all right to open it. “We need something to hold your pants up or it’s going to be a very scandalous evening. Well, more so than it already is.”

Maxon pulled out a dark-red sash and returned to me with it, lacing it through my belt loops.

I couldn’t say why, but this felt meaningful. My heart pounded, and for a minute I wondered if he could hear it shouting how much I loved him. If so, he ignored it in favor of the business at hand.

“Listen,” he said, making a little knot in the sash, “what we’re doing is very dangerous. If something happens, I want you to run. Don’t even try to get back to the palace. Find a family who will hide you through the night.”

Maxon stepped back and looked into my worried eyes. I tilted my head. “Right now, asking a family to hide me is almost as dangerous as facing the rebels. People might be upset that we girls aren’t leaving the competition.”

“If the article Celeste showed you is right, then people might be proud of you.”

I wanted to tell Maxon I disagreed, but a knock at the door interrupted us. He went over to answer it, and quickly Aspen and a second guard walked into my dimly lit room.

“Your Majesty,” Aspen said with a small bow. “Lady America has informed me that you need to get outside the palace walls.”

Maxon sighed deeply. “Yes. And I hear you’re the man to help me. Officer . . .” He looked for Aspen’s badge. “Leger.”

Aspen nodded. “It’s not very difficult, actually. The secrecy might be more of an issue than getting out in the first place.”

“How so?”

“Well, I have to assume there’s a reason for you to be doing this at night, without the king’s knowledge. If we’re specifically asked,” Aspen said, glancing over to the other guard, “I don’t think we could lie to him.”

“And I wouldn’t ask you to. I’m hoping to be able to reveal this to my father soon enough, but, for tonight, discretion is imperative.”

“It shouldn’t be a problem.” Aspen hesitated. “I don’t think the lady should go.”

As if he’d won the argument, Maxon looked at me with a face that said See!

I stood as tall as I could manage. “I’m not just going to sit here. I’ve been chased by rebels once already, and I’m fine.”

“But those weren’t Southerners,” Maxon countered.

“I’m going,” I said. “And we’re wasting time.”

“To be clear, no one agrees with you.”

“To be clear, I don’t care.”

Sighing, Maxon pulled the knit hat over his hair. “So what do we need to do?”

“The plan is pretty simple,” Aspen said decisively. “Twice a week, a truck is sent out for groceries. Sometimes the kitchen staff simply falls short of the needs for the week, so the truck goes out again to pick up whatever’s lacking. Usually people from the kitchen go, along with a few guards.”

“And no one will suspect?” I asked.

Aspen shook his head. “These runs are often done at night. If the cook says we need more eggs for breakfast, well, we’d better go before sunup.”

Maxon ran over to his suit pants, rummaging through his pocket. “I did manage to get a note out to August. He said we should meet him at this address.” Maxon handed the paper to Aspen, who shared the note with the other guard.

“You know where this is?” Aspen asked.

The guard—a dark-skinned young man whose name tag I finally noticed said AVERY—nodded. “Not the best part of town, but close enough to the food storage area that we shouldn’t raise any alarm.”

“All right,” Aspen said. He looked at me. “Tuck your hair beneath your hat.”

I grabbed my hair and twisted it up, hoping it would all fit beneath the knit hat Aspen had provided. I pushed up the last strands and looked to Maxon. “Well?”

He choked on a laugh. “Great.”

I gave him a playful punch in the arm before turning to follow Aspen’s next instructions.

I saw the hurt in his eyes to see me so casual with Maxon. And maybe it went beyond that. We’d hid in a tree house for two years, but here I was wandering into the streets, past curfew, with the man the Southern rebels wanted to see dead more than anyone.

This moment was a slap in the face of everything we were.

And even though I wasn’t in love with Aspen, he still mattered to me, and I didn’t want to cause him pain.

Before Maxon probably even noticed, Aspen straightened his face. “Follow us.”

Slipping into the hallway, Aspen and Officer Avery took us down the stairway that led to the massive safe room reserved for the royal family. Instead of heading toward the great steel doors, we moved quickly across the length of the palace, where we ascended another spiral staircase. I had assumed we would be heading to the first floor, but we exited into the kitchen.

Immediately, I was hit with billowing warmth and the sweet smell of bread rising. For a split second, it felt like home. I expected something clinical, professional, like the big bakeries we had in Carolina on the nice end of town. But there were huge wooden tables with vegetables laid out, ready to be prepped. Notes were left in places, reminding whoever was on duty next of what had to be done. All in all, the kitchen seemed cozy, even for as big as it was.

“Keep your heads down,” Officer Avery whispered to Maxon and me.

We studied the floor as Aspen called out. “Delilah?”

“Hold on, honey!” someone shouted back. Her voice was rich and had the slight drawl of a southern accent that I’d heard sometimes back in Carolina. Heavy footsteps came around the corner, but I avoided looking up to see the woman’s face. “Leger, you cutie, how’ve you been?”

“Been good. Just heard there was a delivery to pick up, and I was wondering if you had a list for me.”

“Delivery? Not that I know of.”

“That’s funny. I was sure.”

“Might as well drive out,” she said, no hint of worry or suspicion in her voice. “Don’t want to miss something.”

“Good point. Shouldn’t be too long,” Aspen answered. I heard the swift sound of him catching a set of keys. “See you later, Delilah. If you’re asleep, I’ll put the keys on the hook.”

“Okay, honey. You come see me soon. It’s been too long.”

“Will do.”

Aspen was already walking, and we followed him wordlessly. I smiled to myself. The woman, Delilah, had a deeper voice, mature sounding. But even she was sweet on Aspen.

We walked around a corner and up a wide incline to a set of broad doors. Aspen undid the lock and pushed the doors open. Waiting in the dark was a large black truck.

“There’s nothing to hold on to, but I think you two should get in the back,” Avery said. I looked at the large cargo space. At least we wouldn’t be recognized.

I went around to the back, where Aspen was already opening the doors. “My lady,” he said, offering me his hand, which I took. “Your Majesty,” he added as Maxon passed, refusing assistance.

There were a couple of crates inside and a shelving unit along one wall, but otherwise it was an empty metal box. Maxon passed me, surveying the area.

“Come here, America,” he said, pointing to the corner. “We’ll wedge ourselves against the shelf.”

“We’ll try to drive smoothly,” Aspen called.

Maxon nodded. Aspen gave us both a solemn look before shutting the doors.

In the pitch-dark, I pushed myself against Maxon.

“Are you scared?” he asked.

“No.”

“Me neither.”

But I was pretty sure we were both lying.

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