The Selection (The Selection, #1)

by Kiera Cass

The idea of being entered into a contest for the whole country to watch as this stuck-up little wimp picked the most gorgeous and shallow one of the bunch to be the silent, pretty face that stood beside him on TV . . . it was enough to make me scream. Could anything be more humiliating?

“Which do you fight for?” “Actually, I’m here by mistake.” “Mistake?” “Yes. Sort of. Well, it’s a long story. And now. . . I’m here. And I’m not fighting. My plan is to enjoy the food until you kick me out.” He laughed out loud at that, actually doubling over and slapping his knee. It was a bizarre mix of rigidity and calm.

“Go make a parcel of strawberry tarts and send it to the lady’s family. Have someone wait while her sister tastes it, and let us know if she does, in fact, cry. I’m most curious about this.”

“You get confused by crying women, I get confused by walks with princes,” I said with a shrug.

“Oh, yes. She’s still here,” Maxon said, not letting his eyes wander from Gavril’s face. “And I plan on keeping her here for quite a while.”

In my experience, true love is usually the most inconvenient kind.”

“Maxon, I hope you find someone you can’t live without. I really do. And I hope you never have to know what it’s like to have to try and live without them.”

“Sure, if you like the lovable sound of an asthma attack in your ear every time you tell a joke.”