Carter and I peeked at each other, unsure of what this meant.
“Of course, your physical punishment cannot be changed, but other stipulations may. Am I correct that you were both sentenced to be Eights?”
It was bizarre to hear him speak like this, but I supposed there were rules to follow. Carter spoke for both of us.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And is it also correct that you have been living in the palace, doing the work of Sixes for the past two months?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Is it also true that you, Mrs. Woodwork, served the future queen when she was physically unwell?”
I smiled at America. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Is it also true that you, Mr. Woodwork, have loved and cherished Mrs. Woodwork, a former Elite, and therefore precious Daughter of Illéa, giving her the best she can possibly have under your circumstances?”
Carter looked down. It was as if I could see him questioning whether he’d given me enough.
I piped up again. “Yes, Your Majesty!”
I watched my husband as he blinked back tears. He was the one who told me that the life we had now wasn’t forever, the one who encouraged me when the days were too long. How could he ever think he wasn’t enough?
“In accordance with your service, I, King Maxon Schreave, am relieving you of your caste assignments. You are no longer Eights. Carter and Marlee Woodwork, you are the first citizens in Illéa to be casteless.”
I squinted at him. “Casteless, Your Majesty?” I chanced a look at America and saw her beaming at me, tears glistening in her eyes.
“Correct. You are now at liberty to make two choices. First, you must decide whether you would like to continue to call the palace your home. Second, you can tell me what profession you would like to have. Whatever you decide, my fiancée and I will happily provide you with lodging and assistance. But, even after that, you will still have no caste. You will simply be yourselves.”
I turned to Carter, completely gobsmacked.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“We owe him everything.”
“Agreed.” Carter drew himself up and turned to Maxon. “Your Majesty, my wife and I would be happy to stay in your home and serve you. I can’t speak for her, but I love my position as a groundskeeper. I’m happy to work outside, and I would do that for as long as I’m able. If the head position ever opens, I’d like to be considered for it, but I am otherwise content.”
Maxon nodded. “Very well. And Mrs. Woodwork?”
I looked at America. “If the future queen would have me, I’d love to be one of her ladies-in-waiting.”
America bounced in her seat a little and pulled her hands up to her heart.
Maxon looked at her as if she was the most adorable thing on the planet. “You might be able to tell that’s what she was hoping for.” He cleared his throat and sat up straighter, calling out to the men at the table. “Let it be recorded that Carter and Marlee Woodwork have been forgiven of their past crimes and now live under the protection of the palace. Let it further say that they have no caste and are above any such segregation.”
“So recorded!” one man shouted back.
As soon as he had finished speaking, Maxon stood and took off his crown, while America positively leaped out of her seat and ran down to throw her arms around me. “I hoped you would stay!” she sang. “I can’t do this without you!”
“Are you kidding? How lucky am I to serve the queen?”
Maxon joined us and gave Carter a firm handshake. “Are you sure about the groundskeeping? You could go back to guarding or even be an adviser if you like.”
“I’m sure. I’ve never had a head for that kind of thing. I was always good with my hands, and that kind of work makes me happy.”
“All right,” Maxon said. “If you ever change your mind, let me know.”
Carter nodded, wrapping an arm around me.
“Oh!” America galloped back to her throne. “I almost forgot!” Picking up a small box, she returned to us, beaming.
“What’s that?” I asked.
She smiled at Maxon. “I’d promised you I’d be at your wedding, and I wasn’t. And even though it’s a little late, I thought I could make up for it with a little present.”
America held out the box to us, and I bit my lip in anticipation. All the things I thought I’d have at my wedding—a beautiful dress, a fantastic party, a room full of flowers—had been missing. The only thing I did have on that day was an absolutely perfect groom, and I was happy enough about that to let everything else pass.
Still, it was nice to receive a gift. It made things feel real.
I cracked open the box and resting inside were two simple, beautiful gold bands.
I covered my mouth. “America!”
“We did our best at guessing your sizes,” Maxon said. “And if you’d prefer a different metal, we’d be happy to exchange them.”
“I think your strings are sweet,” America said. “I hope you put the ones you’re wearing now away somewhere and keep them forever. But we thought you deserved something a bit more permanent.”
I stared at them, not able to believe they were real. It was funny. They were such small things, but they were absolutely priceless. I was close to tears with joy.
Carter took the rings out of my hand and handed them to Maxon, removing the smaller one from the box.
“Let’s see how it looks.” He slowly rolled my string down my finger, holding on to it as he slid the gold one on in its place.