Thank you for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! I am planning on finishing this before The One comes out in May.

A.R. Darcangelo

Chapter 2:

When I woke up it was dark. I couldn't remember falling asleep. As soon as my eyes could focus, I looked down and saw that I was in a pair of silk pajama shorts and top, and I was hot.

My body felt too heavy to move, but I tried to scoot over to the cool side of the bed. When I did, I realized that the side of the bed that I had been sleeping on had to be wet because I was now shivering at the impact of the cold fabric on my damp skin. After a minute, I pushed myself up onto my elbows and lifted my head, but almost immediately had to plop back down. I reached over for the bedside table and tried to push the little button that would call for my maids, but instead my hand limply hit something that was cool and smooth to my skin before I heard it crash to the floor and shatter. The sound of glass breaking into a million pieces faded out of earshot.

I wasn't sure how long it had been, but I was sure I had drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, and my brain struggled to make a coherent thought. It felt like it was seconds later, though I am sure it was much longer, that I felt the back of a hand press against my forehead and cheeks. I tried to make out words, but they wouldn't come. I felt slight pressure on my left upper arm, then a pinch at the curve of the inside of my elbow. It was the last thing I felt before sinking into darkness for what felt like an eternity.

I heard the sound of an eraser rubbing up against paper, squeaking rhythmically. When it stopped I heard pencil against paper for a short time before the tempo picked up again.

I opened my eyes and immediately shut them at the morning light that was leaking into my room. I reopened them slowly, letting my eyes adjust. Then I smiled like an idiot.

His golden blonde hair shone in the sunlight, giving him an angelic glow. His hair was falling into his eyes, and his face was a mask of concentration. His brows were furrowed and his lips pursed as he studied whatever was in front of him. He was sitting at the table in front of my balcony doors, books and papers strewn across it, just like they normally were in his study.

He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. As if he suddenly realized there were eyes on him, his head snapped back up and he looked at me. Relief washed over his face.

"America!" He exclaimed, getting up in one fluid motion and rushing over to sit beside me on the bed.

"Hello, handsome," I said, my grin still bordering on the goofy side.

Maxon smiled crookedly and brought my hand up to kiss my knuckles. "How are you feeling, darling?"

"Eh. I've been better." I still felt heavy, but my brain seemed to be functioning.

He leaned over to feel my forehead and cheeks, and I realized he was the one that had come to my room last night. "How long have you been here?" I inquired.

"Since this morning. I stopped by after dinner last night because your maids had sent word that you weren't feeling well, and when I got here you were about to burn down the palace with a fever. I stayed while they put your I.V. in and then went back to my room to try to get some sleep so I could stay with you while I got some work done today. Though to be honest I didn't sleep well…" His hand had stopped at my cheek, and he was cupping it tenderly. It took me a minute to register what he had just told me.

I looked down at my arm and saw the offending needle taped to the inside of my elbow. "Ugh. I think I'm going to be sick."

Maxon immediately jumped up and grabbed a nearby trash can. "Here, let me help you," he offered, putting his arm under my shoulders to help me sit up.

"I didn't really mean I was going to throw up… I mean, I might…" I eyed the needle warily.

Maxon looked at the inside of my arm. "Oh." Then he smiled. He lowered me back down on the bed and put the trash can on the floor before coming to rest his elbows on either side of my body so he was hovering over me. "America Singer, are you afraid of needles? The same girl who isn't afraid to change an entire country's foundation in one night? Or knee a prince she hardly knows on their very first date? Or – "

I cut him off. "That wasn't a date. We were just having a friendly conversation. While walking around the gardens. We had already discussed my purpose in staying at that point."

He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe we shouldn't count that one. I don't know that I want to remember my first date with you as the one you decided I was trying to –"

I waved my needle free arm in the air. "Whatever. Let's not dwell on the past." I smiled up at him, and he smiled back.

I don't know how long it was that we stared into each other's eyes like that, but it took my maids bustling in with worried faces to break us apart. He kissed my forehead lightly and excused himself for lunch. He told me he would send up some potato soup and a strawberry tart if I was feeling up to it.

"Oh, miss, we were so worried!" Lucy exclaimed after Maxon had walked out of the room. She wrung her hands. "When we came in to get you ready for dinner, you were laying on the bed, still in your dress and everything –" I smiled at that. How terrible of me to fall asleep in my day dress. "– and we couldn't wake you. You were breathing, so we just got you changed and let you sleep and told the prince that you weren't well, but when he got here –" she rambled until Anne gave her a look.

"You do look like you are feeling better," Mary said, feeling my forehead the same way Maxon had.

"Yes, I feel gross though," I said, eyeing the needle again.

"I'm afraid I will have to call the doctor to remove that," Anne said, guessing what I wanted. She turned and called for the doctor.

"Oh, miss, and that nice officer from your province came by, too," said Lucy. "He was here at a rather strange hour though, but perhaps he heard that you were ill. He said to tell you to "'get well soon'". He's such a nice man." She sighed a little.

I knew she was talking about Aspen. As bad as it may sound, I was glad that my sickness had given me a nice cover up for not responding to the note he'd left in my jar. Instinctively, I glanced at my bedside table to look at it. The table had a lamp and a call button, but no jar. I whipped my head back and forth looking for it.

"Oh, are you looking for that little jar?" Mary asked. She walked around the bed and picked up the trash can Maxon had put bedside my bed. She tipped it just enough so that I could see the broken shards of glass inside. "You must've knocked it over when you were trying to press our call button. I'm sorry miss, I hope it was not sentimental." She looked at me worriedly.

I paused, not sure if I was sad. It had been sentimental… but hadn't I just let go of Aspen yesterday?

"Oh, no, it's fine. It was just something to remind me of home," I told Mary. "But hopefully, this will be my home soon." I smiled gleefully at the thought, as did my maids.

The doctor bustled in to remove my needle, and while he was doing that my maids went to draw me a bath.

"Gah," I gasped when I saw my appearance in the mirror for the first time since yesterday. "I look hideous."

"You are beautiful no matter what, Lady America," Anne said. I rolled my eyes at her, and she smiled.

I gratefully sunk into the bath water, which smelled of vanilla and lavender. They washed my hair and did a simple French braid while it was still wet. When they helped me back into bed, I could smell the clean sheets. The doctor said I didn't need to have the I.V. anymore because my fever had already broken, and I was well on my way to recovering from the little bug I had acquired. I was ordered on bed rest for the next two days, which I was not happy about. But I knew at the very least Maxon would definitely be coming to see me, so I didn't complain.

As my maids were getting ready to leave my room for the evening, I asked Lucy to stay behind.

"Yes, miss?" she asked after Anne and Mary had left.

"I wanted to give you something. It was special to me… up until recently. I mean, it is special, but it doesn't hold the same significance to me that it used to. I would like for you to have it," I stated with certainty. I held out my hand, and put the previously sticky penny that had been at the bottom of my jar into Lucy's palm.

Lucy looked at the penny. "A tip?" she asked awkwardly.

"No, no, no. Not a tip. A gift. Something that once meant something to me, but now I hope will mean something to you." I knew she couldn't possibly know the double meaning in my words, but I hoped that someday they would be true.

Lucy smiled, understanding that it was just something I wanted her to have, and she would have it no matter what happened to me. "Thank you, Lady America. You are a princess. It doesn't matter what anyone else says," she whispered. She leaned over and gave me a hug, and I squeezed her back.

We stayed like that, not as an Elite and her maid, but as a friend and an ordinary girl, for a long moment. It took me several seconds to realize Maxon was standing at my door, beaming with adoration.

Lucy sensed his presence, and gave a quick salutation and curtsey before giving me a kiss on the cheek and bidding me good night.

Maxon walked over to the side of my bed and sat down.

"You are amazing," Maxon whispered, the back of his hand stroking my cheek.

"You are the one that is amazing, Maxon Schreave," I replied, letting my whole body relax at his proximity. I had missed him so much, even in just one afternoon without him.

He shook his head, all the while leaning down to kiss me passionately. When we both couldn't breathe properly he lifted his head and looked at me like he did this afternoon.

"How could you stand looking at me earlier today? I looked like a ragamuffin," I complained.

Maxon burst out laughing, his breath wheezing in and out the way it did when he laughed too hard. "You always look beautiful," he repeated Anne's words. "However, you do smell much better."

I swatted at him playfully. He grabbed my hands in his and lay down next to me, kissing me softly once more on the lips before stroking my hair, lulling me into sleep.