The Guard Read Free

blond hair over her shoulder every few seconds. Part of me wanted to walk over and hand her a pin.
    “You there,” Mr. Newsome said to me. “Come and fetch these bags.” He dropped his suitcases on the floor.
    Mr. Singer spoke up. “He’s not your servant. He’s here to protect you. You can carry your own bags.”
    Mr. Newsome rolled his eyes and turned to his wife. “Can’t believe our baby has to associate with a Five.” He whispered the words, though he obviously intended for all of us to hear.
    “I hope she hasn’t picked up any of her sloppy manners. Our girl’s too good for that trash.” Mrs. Newsome flicked her hair again, and I could see where Celeste learned to sharpen those claws of hers. Not that I expected anything more from a Two.
    I could hardly look away from Mrs. Newsome’s wickedly happy face, except for the muffled sound next to me. May was crying into her mother’s shirt. As if this day hadn’t been hard enough already.
    “Safe trip, Mr. Singer,” I whispered. He nodded to me and escorted his family through the front doors. I could see the cars were waiting already. America was going to hate that she didn’t get to say good-bye.
    I walked over to Mr. Newsome. “Don’t let them bother you, sir. Leave your bags right here, and I’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”
    “Good lad,” Mr. Newsome said, and patted me on the back before straightening his tie and pulling his wife along with him.
    Once they were outside, I walked to the table near the entrance and pulled a pen out of the drawer. There was no chance of me getting away with doing this twice, so I had to decide which one of the Newsomes I hated more at the moment. Right now, it was Mrs. Newsome, if only for May’s sake. I unzipped her bag, stuck the pen inside, and snapped it in half. I got a dot of ink on one hand, but seeing as I had thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes in front of me to wipe it on, the mark was quickly taken care of. I watched as the Newsomes climbed into a car, then threw their bags into the trunk and allowed myself a small smile. But while destroying some of Mrs. Newsome’s clothes was satisfying, I knew it wouldn’t really affect her in the long run. She’d replace them within days. May would have to live with those words in her ears forever.
    I held the bowl close to my chest as I lifted forkfuls of eggs and chopped sausage to my mouth, eager to get outdoors. The kitchen was packed with guards and servants, wolfing down meals as they started shifts.
    “He was telling her he loved her through the entire thing,” Fry was saying. “I was posted by the platform and could hear it the whole time. Even after she passed out, Woodwork was saying it.”
    Two maids hung on his every word, one tilting her head sadly. “How could the prince do that to them? They were in love.”
    “Prince Maxon is a good man. He was just obeying the law,” the other maid shot back. “But … the whole time?”
    Fry nodded.
    The second maid shook her head. “No wonder Lady America ran for them.”
    I stepped around the large table, moving to the other side of the room.
    “She kneed me pretty hard,” Recen shared, wincing a little at the memory. “I couldn’t stop her from jumping; I could barely breathe.”
    I smiled to myself, though I felt for the guy.
    “That Lady America is pretty damn brave. The king could have put her on the block for something like that.” A younger butler, wide-eyed and enthusiastic, seemed to be taking the whole thing in as entertainment.
    I moved again, fearing I’d say or do something stupid if I heard any more. I passed Avery, but he only nodded. The set of his mouth and eyebrows was all I needed to see to know he wasn’t interested in company right now.
    “It could have been so much worse,” a maid whispered.
    Her companion nodded. “At least they’re alive.”
    I couldn’t escape it. A dozen conversations overlapped, mixing into one commentary in my ears. America’s name