Elected (The Elected Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

something in the conversation. “A long arrow? Like the ones from before?”
    Tomlin comes to stand near me, placing the arrow in my hands, always aiming to teach me something, even at a time like this. “No, not exactly the same. Look at the wood.”
    I peer at it closely. The wood shaft was whittled. It’s not sleek and pristine like the long arrows from the past. It was not formed from machinery but from a person’s meticulous handicraft. Before our Technology Accord was signed, people killed one another with small arrows, which could travel great distances, propelled by a digital signal. Countries carried out assassinations this way. It was a single shot, which could precisely target one person and kill without inflicting ancillary damage. No one else would be hurt, only the person for whom the arrow was intended.
    But long arrows wouldn’t work in our day and age. “This one is similar to the long arrow. It has the same design. The same tip. But there could be no signal to guide it,” I say.
    “Thus, the miss,” says Tomlin.
    “Where would they have found a piece of long arrow?” asks my mother.
    “These were taken out of circulation years ago,” says my father.
    “They saved it all these years. For me.” Though I don’t have enough evidence to know this for certain, the idea washes over me like icy bathwater.
    My mother notices the whiteness of my face and brushes a hand across my brow. “You need rest. First an execution and then an attempt. Too much for you in one day.” She stands closer to me and then looks at my father and Tomlin, letting them know she’s taking me away. We exit the room as the two men keep discussing how to find the assassin. Ama hurries me up the stairs and off to my bedroom, tucking me into bed with the express order to sleep. “I’m going to return to Tomlin and your father. See if we can devise a plan for determining the offender.”
    She pats my hand and almost leans in to give me a hug. My body unconsciously inches toward her outstretched arms, anticipating the touch, wanting it. I’ve seen other mothers embrace their sons, and I can’t help feeling jealous every time. I know my mother’s reserve is a show she puts on because of who I am. Not all boys in East Country are treated to this same harsh standard. I look up into Ama’s face, almost begging her to hug me like when I was a toddler. But I hate myself for needing this. I squeeze my eyes shut, my mind chiding my body for its weakness. At the last second Ama thinks better of it and instead wraps my blankets more tightly around my shoulders, almost ensuring I can’t sit up to embrace her.
    The lack of intimacy has made me long for and yet abhor physical touching now. I don’t know how I’ll ever learn to touch my future wife without wincing.
    I lie in bed thinking terrible thoughts of my upcoming role and who my new enemy might be. I’ve interacted with almost all of the townspeople through the years, and they’ve been extremely welcoming to me. Yes, there are people who disagree with my family’s strict adherence to the Accords, even after all these years, but the majority favor my father and me, as well as the laws.
    This leads me to think that their anger is not directed at my family’s reign but at me specifically. But why? Have I not always followed my father’s leadership style? Am I so different?
    As my hands trace the flat, smooth skin of my stomach, I think yes. I am different. I’m a girl. And I shouldn’t be in office at all. No one has said they suspect my gender, but perhaps they can just tell I have no business taking this leadership role. Maybe unconsciously, they know I’m not fit to rule the country. Even with all my training, I don’t have my father’s authority. Tomlin says it’s something that can be learned, but I’m not so sure about that. I’ve tried to master it for years, and I still doubt myself.
    I fall into a fitful sleep, but when I hear a noise in my room, it jars me