The sun kissed the horizon for the first time today as I stretched my arms and shifted up into what technically counted as a sitting position. I glimpsed over at Maxon and the world seemed like a much better placed now that I was married. I'm the queen of Illéa. Oh my god. Well, I've been up long enough, time to ruin Maxon's day-I mean, wake him up.

"Maxon, time to get up, come on. You've got a country to rule," I whispered into his ear, trying to leave the nagging wife voice out of my voice, shaking him slightly. He shifted, moaned, and rolled over. Grrr.

"Come on, Maxon. Get up," I spoke a bit more forcefully, shaking him harder. He. Still. Slept. He's getting on my bad side.

"Maxon, Come O-," I started speaking, frustration and nagging wife dripping into my voice, when he suddenly moved into a sitting position, torso exposed, and captured my lips. His smile beamed under my lips and I pulled away.

"How long have you been awake?" I demanded, a half- grin still spread across my face.

"About a half an hour before you shook me the first time," Maxon responded, pleased by his little stunt.

"What—but how—why didn't you wake me up?" I stammered, shoving him towards the edge of the bed in the king's suite we now shared.

"America, you were too cute, how you snored softly while you were sleeping, I couldn't bear to wake you up," Maxon shifted closer to me, slightly shivering from the cold window that he slept near.

Speechless, I stuttered out some nonsensical words that Maxon must have taken to mean that I was pleased. He tackled me on the football- field sized bed, showering me in kisses, and getting me in my ticklish spot at the base of my neck. My shrieks of pleasure satisfied him, and he settled down beside me again.

"Well, time to get to work," Maxon sighed unhappily, clambering over me to our bathroom. He pulled the door opened, and started to go inside, then stuck his head outside the door and bit his lip.

"Um, last night, I told my servants that I'd be fine, but-," Maxon grinned nervously, afraid to say it.

"Let me guess, you can't turn the shower on yourself," I said with an amused look on my face. He shook his head.

"So, can you turn it on for me?" he asked with a cock of his head.

"Come on you. Pathetic," I exclaimed, jokingly as I shook my head and left the warmth of the bed to sidle past him into the bathroom, but he caught me by the hips and dipped me into a kiss. I laughed and moved into the bathroom.

"Okay, so, first, you turn this knob to the left to get the water warm. Once it's warm you pull up this," Here I stopped and pointed to small screw- like thing poking out the top of the faucet. "And then your shower's all ready to go," I finished off, stood up, brushed the water off my nightgown, and turned around to see the scars on his back his late father gave him.

"Will you need me to redress your wounds after you get out?"

"I think I'll be fine, dear," he said, climbing into the shower.

"Don't you start with that whole 'dear' nonsense!" I narrowed my eyes, then swayed out of the room as gracefully as I could when wearing a nearly sheer short nightgown. As I rang the bell for my new maids to come and help me get dressed, I could hear the rainfall from the shower slowly come to a stop.

"Wait! Leave it on, please," I ran back into the bathroom and jumped into the shower just as the water hit me, melting me into a puddle.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh," I sighed, both warm and pleased that Maxon knew me so well already. The shower trickled to an end after 5 or so minutes, and I climbed out to go get dressed. My maids- Mary, Shelli, and Tina- were standing there, my day dress laid out on the bed behind them. Maxon must have moved into his study next door, I thought as Mary helped get the dress on, and pinned it in properly. When I was ready, I thanked my maids, sent them back downstairs, and went into Maxon's study.

"Hey! Get out!" Maxon started then glanced upward. "Oh. Sorry, America. I thought you were someone else." He smiled sheepishly, and then glanced down at his paperwork.

"Do you mean someone better?" I said, mock offended.

"What? No! I would never-," Maxon said, but then he stopped when he saw my smile. I sat down beside him, gently laying a hand on his back. I felt him tense up, but then relaxed.

"Time for breakfast," my hands guided him out of his chair and out the door. He slumped in my arms, and I moved his face to mine and kissed it.

"Do you know what's for breakfast?" his voice barely reached my ears, but still I heard it.

"Nope. Why, do I look like the head chef?" I responded with a laugh. We laughed together and headed downstairs to enjoy a private breakfast.

Our mornings continued like this for the next 2 months, as my maids and I watched my stomach every day. After I was certain, I told Maxon.