Free Elected (The Elected Series Book 1) by Rori Shay Page A

a word.
    I take the last few steps to the top of the pavilion, and for the first time I see how my people are reacting. They’re running in all directions. They’ve never witnessed violence before, and they’re like chickens with their heads cut off. The bikes, once in neat beautiful lines, are thrown out of the way in disarrayed piles.
    “Stop!” I shout at the top of my lungs.
    A few people turn at my voice and do stop.
    “Hey!” I yell again. “Look! I’m fine. I’m not running. Do you see? I am not running!”
    More people look toward me. Soon I have an audience of a couple hundred townspeople. Some come toward me slowly, sizing up my frame to see if I’ve been injured. When they see I’m fine, they come closer still.
    Finally, a baker named Marjorie walks boldly up to me and gives me a bear hug around the shoulders. I quickly shift out of her embrace, extricating myself from her touch. I cough, feeling unsure about someone hugging me, in public no less.
    But despite this awkwardness and the situation, I laugh out loud. “See, I’m fine,” I say aloud to the crowd again. More people look relieved and a few laugh along with me.
    This is my role. To lead and soothe my people no matter what. No matter what has happened to me personally. No matter how worried or confused I might be, it’s essential I appear calm and in control in front of my people.
    And I find, strangely enough, it suits me.

    An hour later, my parents and I are sitting in our dining room, digesting the events. There’s a knock at the door, and Tomlin ventures into the room. Ama looks up at him, giving a slight acknowledgement he’s here. He nods back to her and then turns toward me.
    “You look surprisingly calm,” he says.
    “I am,” I say. “Really, I’m fine.” I’m sure this won’t be the last time I reassure people of this fact today.
    I rake a hand across my beardless chin—a gesture I’ve seen Apa do many times. “Do you remember there ever being attempts on my father, grandfather, or great-grandfather?”
    Tomlin stops to think a moment, but it’s a short pause. He’s already been thinking about this and has the answer ready.
    “No. There’s never been an attempt before. Not since the countries went into isolation.”
    “I thought not.” My brow furrows. “Why now? Why would they hate me?”
    Tomlin hunches over, his shoulders growing closer to his ears. “They don’t hate you. It’s not you at all. It’s just a matter of timing.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “The Technology Faction is growing strong. It’s been increasing in numbers for the last twenty years. And now there’s a change in guard occurring. They think they’ll find a chink in the system.”
    “And I’m the chink,” I say. I place my head into the palm of my hand.
    “I did not mean it like that. Your father remained in office for longer than was expected. Thirty-two years instead of the normal eighteen. It’s hard for the Technology Faction to rise up against him when he’s been the Elected for so long. But now, there’s a break. Any change in leadership allows undercurrents to rise to the surface amongst the people. Remember, that is why the Elected Accord was created in the first place.”
    I finish his thought. “To discourage as much change as possible.”
    “Right.”
    “So why doesn’t my father just stay in office?”
    Tomlin looks at me like I’m younger than I am. He raises an eyebrow. Since he’s silent I answer the question myself.
    I roll my eyes but say, “Because most people don’t live past their fifties in our country, and it’s better for everyone if my father hands the office over to me in a polite and orderly fashion than if he dies and I have to take it in that chaos.”
    Tomlin’s answer is quiet. “Right.”
    A little while later, I’m about to retire upstairs to my room when Tomlin, who’s been sitting by the fire, says, “Aloy, they might be done with him if you want to say thank you.”
    For a