Author's Note- Firstly, Author is a really heavy word. Secondly, writing this , I must say; Me-1 Procrastination-0. This is my first fan-fiction writing and I am terrified of posting this so please go easy on me :)

I am just borrowing them but all rights to the characters go to Kiera Cass.

Every time I finish reading the Selection, I crave more- More intimacy. More teasing. More chemistry. More smut. And More Fluff.

So continued from the last word of the last chapter, here it goes.

"Yes."

One word. Three letters. That I was more convinced of than I was of my own name.

It was all I could find within myself to say as Maxon's arm held me to him. Our bodies pressed against each other, so close I could feel the racing of his heart against my chest as loud and strong as I could mine.

I pulled away enough to look into his eyes - so full of warmth and despite the lump in my throat , I knew I needed to put to voice the feelings overflowing my heart more than I needed it to beat. I would not, could not, keep the extent of my feelings from him.

"I love you, Maxon," I said simply. Awed by how a fact sounded when said with the passion the flames now raging in and around me, forging us one. "I love you more than I can bear. It's so consuming it terrifies me. And I wish I had the words or the ability to tell you, to show you , just what you do to me.

"When I first came to the palace, falling in love seemed so impossible. Yet…" , I shake my head , "Back in Carolina, even with all of my family surrounding me ,I knew it wasn't home. Not anymore. Because you weren't there ," I lightly graze Maxon's fingers , entwining our hands together on the bed. Maxon followed this moment with his eyes, and the tears balanced on his long lashes run free. I wipe one away. "There is no home without you, Max." I swallow hard and look at our entwined hands instead- not able to hold the intensity of his eyes pouring in mine.

"And I know being your wife comes with being more than that. A life I could never have imagined for myself, but if I have you ...I can take on the world." The truth in these last words seemed to surprise him as much as they surprised me. But I meant every bit of it. The cameras , the guards, the threat - meant next to nothing when I had him.

This thing between us felt so sure, so palpable, like a physical presence, I could have touched it if I reached out.

"I want you to know that I am honoured- honoured that I get to share a life with you because... I cannot imagine one without you. And because you have decided to tolerate me," a smile at that, "I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel as loved and joyous as you make me."

Seconds in sand seep out of our grip as we sit there- in the aftermath of chaos , in our own crook of peace. My heart felt like it had grown a hundred sizes yet I felt lighter than a dandelion on a breeze - so vulnerable , so free.

Maxon cleared his throat. "So I take that's a yes?", he asks, tears shining in his laughing eyes as he plucked the ring out of the small velvet box.

"Wait," I stop him with a light touch on his wrist.

It was like Maxon had said to me the other night in my room. He wanted to let all the walls down with me. No secrets. No lies. So before he claimed me as his own for life, I wanted him to know this last bit about me. About who I was, where I came from.

"There is something else that you should know...", I dragged the words , not meeting his eyes. I knew that Maxon would not hold this against me but I still felt nervous, like I had kept another vital part of myself from him. And even though things ahead seemed like they would work out, I knew I had broken his trust.

I force out a small breath.

Some of the nervousness or guilt may have shown on my face because I felt Maxon snap on a mask, like he was waiting for a blow to fall.

"When the families came here to the palace, for Halloween, my dad...he asked how we found out about it and I...I told him about Gregory's diary and I know i shouldn't ha-"

A short chuckle from Maxon cuts me off. His demeanor still a bit stiff. "America darling , you waved Gregory's journal in my father's face and on national television. So reall-"

"No, Maxon. It was how the Northerners got the confirmation… about the diaries."

I finally meet his eyes and I see him trying to connect the dots, a small crease on his forehead.

"My father was a Northern rebel."

It was the first time I had said the words out loud and somehow their meaning had fully settled on me in the past two days. He had left for me a puzzle piece in his letter, and now the picture was clearer than ever.

"Oh."

There is such finality to his reaction , tinted with unmistakable relief.

A part of me will forever hate myself for ever giving him reason to question my feelings for him. For doing things that made him challenge his faith in me. Assuming the worst.

I wait for him to say something more, not daring to look at his face. He doesn't, so I break the silence, speaking to my lap.

"He left a letter telling me...and I wanted you to know…...if this changes anything betwee-"

My sentence is cut short with a lingering kiss Maxon plants on my lips. His lips are so soft; it's the kiss of a breeze. There is such adoration in the way his finger tilts my chin up I almost start crying again.

"Never." Maxon says , pulling away and sliding the ring on my finger. He kisses me again, and I fall into him , careful of the sling on his arm. "I love you, America."

My heart might explode.

I look at the ring again, marveling at how the gold band curled around the two stones sitting atop it. For once I hope I had my nails done. They looked somewhat barbaric- with bit of blood, Maxon's blood, dried underneath them. Another reminder of how close I was to losing him last night.

"Had something happened to you… ," I whisper into his shoulder, "I would have killed you."

Maxon lets out a breathy laugh and hugs me tighter. I run my hand through his already messed up hair - silken and sliding in between my fingers. He leans into the touch.

It is quite for a while in the little bubble we have made for ourselves in each other's arms, our breathing low and synced, when we hear an irked order being made.

"- go through. There are matters that I need to discuss with His Majesty and we don't have much time to make the arrangements.", we hear Silvia say from the other side of the door. Her voice ringing with authority.

A sharp knock sounds and Maxon allows the visitor in.

I quickly stand up from the bed and straighten my dress as best as I can; trying to look remotely presentable. With an entire wing of the castle is shambles and the terror of last night still hanging in the air, I don't think it would take much for even Silvia -the ever collected and professional Silvia, to spiral.

"Your Majesty", she does a quick deep courtesy, "I am so very sorry to interrupt but the arrangements for the service need to be made and I needed your approval on somethings. "

Her voice is apologetic, like she does not want to ask this of him. King or no, Maxon was still just a nineteen year old boy. Who had lost his family in one night and had to take upon his shoulders the responsibility of running a country immediately. Asking him for opinions on funeral arrangements-

"I could help with those Silvia." I say quickly before Maxon has to reply. "If that's okay…" I add quickly with a glance at him.

It's surprising how much one can convey with just one look. Maxon's eyes are soft- full of gratitude. He gives a small nod and I gently place a hand on his shoulder. Funerals of loved ones are painful enough without having to live them while planning them. And I wouldn't let Maxon go through with that hurt. Not if I could do something to help.

"Oh. Yes Lady America. That would be just fine.", she says , eyeing the ring on my hand. I could have sworn there was a small smile on her face and I wondered if she approved of me.

She then meets Maxon's gaze. "Congratulations on the engagement , Your Majesty," she says genuinely.

Maxon reaches for my hand just as I try to subtly take his. He looks up at me, and with his stare unbreakable, replies, "Thank you, Silvia."

I give his hand a light squeeze ;my heart fluttering. Engaged. To be Married. Hearing it from someone else felt so….good. Like it made our relationship all the more real. Authentic.

"My lady, you should get your maids to clean you up and I can meet you in the women's room when you are ready," Silvia suggested, shutting the door behind her.

Before her words can fully register, fear grips at my chest. My maids.

I was so consumed with Maxon , their well being didn't cross my mind.

Lucy I saw was fine. Better even. But what of Anne? Mary? I felt terror wash over me. Where were they when the attack began? Did they get to a safe room in time? Was Marlee okay? I knew the rebels hadn't made it to the lower levels but I still needed to know.

Maxon notices the change in my mien and seems to understand the cause of the worry that now threatened to sink me to my knees. My maids had been my one constant since the very beginning of the Selection. Through all the rough patches with Maxon and the worry with Aspen. With the competition and Marlee and my father and just about everything. There was no way I could have made it without them. So the thought of losing them-

"Go," Maxon said delicately, "I will see you soon."

I kiss his cheek and rush to the door and see a small crowd of people waiting just outside. Obviously awaiting a word with the king . And in that moment, I am in reverence at how strong Maxon is. Working through his grief. Inheriting the throne to a country in rebellion yet looking so calm he could be sunbathing on a beach somewhere. But then again, I knew how deceptive looks could be.

"Don't work yourself too hard , okay?", I tell Maxon, giving him a meaningful look.

"Yes, my dear."

**Sooo... What do you think?

Any critique is more than appreciated.

And this is the first time I truly mean it.

Drop any ideas you have in the comments :) **