A/N: This is the edited version of the real story. Though the content has remained the same, I have increased the chapter length. Therefore this chapter contains chapters eleven, twelve and the beginning of thirteen of the original fic.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights, nor will I ever. The only things of my creation are characters/places associated with Kaliké. All other rights belong to Kiera Cass.

Friday, March 20th

America's POV

Maxon was still stressed out about our trip out of the country, and I chose to stay away from him. Apparently, I just distracted him, and I just ended up being the receiver of all his stress.

I knew that once we got away, he would relax and enjoy it, but he couldn't help but worry that something would go wrong. I was more confident; we were leaving the palace in good hands. Nicoletta was coming for two weeks, our top guards were being stationed, my whole family would stay there, Kriss Elise, as well as Marlee and Carter.

Being the nice fiancee that I am, I made sure to pack Maxon's suitcase for him; I was sure that he would end up forgetting, and that wouldn't do. It would be his best excuse to call off our holiday and I didn't want that to happen.

I was sure that Maxon was pacing endlessly in his room, but for once, I decided not to worry about him as Mary helped me get ready. My dress was simple, but classy; a robin's egg blue, it fit tightly to my waist and then flowed loosely around my knees. A white ribbon was sewn at the waist, matching the comfortable white flats I had picked for the plane.

My jewelry was simple; I wore small diamond earrings. My hair had been braided by Mary and then pinned at the back of my head so it would stay out of the way. My makeup was simple, as always, but Mary had changed the usual routine a little so that it matched more with the outfit.

This whole ordeal took much longer than it usually did during the Selection because Mary didn't have help. Usually Anne and Lucy would be there, but not now. I had encouraged Mary to pick other maids, though she did not want to. She eventually succumbed to my begging and allowed Paige to help her, but only on some days. Today was special, and Mary wouldn't let anyone interfere with my appearance.

Finally, I was ready to go, and I accepted the shawl from Mary, looking around the room to make sure that I wasn't missing anything.

"It's alright, my Lady. You're coming home in no time at all," she reminded, and I nodded.

"Of course, Mary, you're right. I'm not forgetting anything important," I said, smiling, and we both headed down to the main doors.

Unsurprisingly, we found Maxon already there, pacing. Kriss, Elise, Marlee, Carter, and various guards were there, listening to his last-minute instructions.

"Now, now Maxon," I scolded, seeing the annoyed looks on the listener's faces. "They all know what they're doing. Leave them be."

Kriss flashed me a brief, thankful smile as Maxon grinned sheepishly, giving me a quick kiss on my cheek.

"I guess we'd best be off then," he sighed, looking around the palace.

I gently pulled him towards the doors, knowing that he wouldn't move by himself, and finally, he allowed himself to be steered away from the palace.

Oliver's POV

I'd had James prepare the room for Maxon and America, and now, I was simply waiting their arrival. Desperately waiting their arrival, that is.

I had hoped to meet them before the arrival of my future wife and her companions, but it seemed as if that was not meant to be. Maxon had sent a note in advance, updating me about what time they were to arrive, and it was seeming more and more unlikely.

The Selection was a confusing affair. Though it was supposed to be following me 'falling in love', there was so much more to it. This was part of the reason why I was so anxious for King Maxon to arrive. He'd been through such a thing before, and I was desperate to know how he had handled it. I'd watched all the videos, but it wasn't the same as hearing the inside stories.

I couldn't help but wonder if his parents had confronted him such as mine had. Mine had called me to a 'meeting' the day prior, simply to lecture me on which girls had to stay. Keep the lower castes, to show we care. Keep the one with the crazy hair, to show we accept people's differences. The list went on and on. That whole meeting had just added to my stress. In fact, I'd spent the last few days trying to write a welcome speech, then say it without stuttering. Usually I was so good at public speaking, and it frustrated me to no end that suddenly I couldn't do it.

When the speech practicing failed, I'd pull out the folders assigned to each girl. I'd study them closely, remembering each name, their hobbies, and so on. I didn't know what type of girl I liked, and I'd fooled myself into thinking that research could help me figure it out. Deep down, I had a feeling that I wouldn't really know until I met them face to face, but that scared me too much.

There was a soft knock at the door and I gave permission to enter, expecting to see James standing in front of me. Instead, I saw Nicola, and smiled.

"Are you alright?" she asked gently, and I shrugged.

"I'm still worrying, if that's what you're wondering." I sighed, then ran my fingers through my hair.

"I can be your spy," Nicola offered, and I raised my eyebrows.

"Why do I need a spy?" I asked, feeling quite amused.

"Because all great royals have spies," she said, smiling slightly. "I can meet the girls, see how they act when they're not around you, and report back. That way you're absolutely sure not to pick one that is terrible."

I wasn't sure if it would work. After all, they were sure to act equally nice around Nicola, the princess, but it was still a kind offer. It comforted me, knowing that my sister was there for me. "Thanks, Nic."

She suddenly sat up quite straight and sighed. "I forgot. I was supposed to come here to tell you that Mom wants you to attend a meeting immediately."

"What kind of meeting?" I asked wearily. "I think I've had enough of Mom's demands to last me a while."

Nicola sighed too. "Don't worry, Oliver. This meeting isn't about you. Mom's looking into my future now, and she has some princes she wants your opinion on."

I froze. My little sister was so, well, little. I found the whole shipping girls off idea quite terrible and swore that I'd never do it to my daughters. "Oh Nic, I'm so sorry," I said softly. "If you like any of them, I'll put in a good word," I offered.

She shook her head, wrinkled her nose, and buried her head in my shoulder. I could tell she was on the verge of tears, and I gave her a hug, sighing. Sometimes my parents didn't really know how to be good parents. They liked being King and Queen much more, and the King and Queen liked making ties with foreign kingdoms through marriage of a princess.

"Don't worry, Nic. We have time. Mom's not going to send you off immediately," I soothed, patting her back. "I need you as my spy."

She chuckled and pulled away, wiping away any tears that may have formed.

"Maybe we shouldn't attend the meeting," I said finally. "Mom won't make a decision so hastily, especially not without my decision, and with my future brides all arriving so soon, she won't be able to make much progress. Yes, let's not go."

Nicola smiled brightly. "Oh, Olli, thank you."

I smiled back and bowed. "Where to, my Lady?"

She paused for a moment, as if pretending to think. We both knew what she'd pick. "To the library, I think. The evil Queen will never find us there."

I laughed and held out my arm for her to take, and we headed off towards the library.

We stayed in the library for quite some time, becoming confident that Mom had completely given up on us.

We heard fast footsteps and a maid rushed in, her hair askew, breathing heavily. "Your Highnesses," she panted, "The King of Illea is at the doors. He's arrived."

Nicola and I quickly stood up and brushed ourselves off.

"You really have to stay in more obvious places," the maid gasped, leaning against a shelf as I nodded to her and walked out.

Thankfully, Nicola and I, ever the speed walkers (it was unprofessional to run), made it to the front entrance before King Maxon and Lady America. Mom had severely scolded us when we arrived and then snapped at us to get into place.

The doors opened and in came King Maxon. He looked exactly as I had expected; after all, I saw pictures of him almost every day. Lady America was slightly more surprising. I'd obviously seen Lady America in the videos before, but she was far more beautiful in person.

Her hair was a fiery red and I found it quite entrancing. Her eyes were mysterious, an ice-blue. I told myself she was just a reality star. Her beauty was certainly fake, and her personality would surely be awful. At least she dressed well, though I supposed it was mostly her maid's work.

Her dress was simple and blue, and she wore flats. I was sure Mom wouldn't approve; she usually expected royals to dress nicer, though Lady America technically wasn't quite a royal.

My father welcomed King Maxon and shook his hand, and King Maxon introduced Lady America to everyone. Mom greeted her politely, albeit a bit disapprovingly, but Nicola was quite excited.

"I'm Princess Nicola, but please, do call me Nic," she said happily. I felt bad for Nic. If Lady America was as bad as many girls, Nicola would only have her heart broken.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Nic," Lady America said. She wasn't rude, at least.

Maxon then turned to me. "You must be Oliver."

"Yes. Thank you so much for coming, Your Highness."

He smiled. "It's quite alright. I needed a vacation, though it took me a while to realize it." He sighed and looked over at America, and I couldn't help but wonder if he held a secret contempt for his fiancee.

"How old are you?" Nicola was asking America, and the family immediately turned to her. Asking those questions was simply not done.

"Nicola!" Mom hissed, obviously embarrassed.

"I turned seventeen last month," she said. "I'm guessing your next question now, and I was a Five."

Nicola blushed, impressed that Lady America had indeed anticipated what she was going to say.

Just then, the head maid, Jacqueline, entered. She curtsied and addressed us. "Your Majesties, I've come to lead King Maxon and Lady America to their rooms."

We nodded to the couple as they followed Jacqueline out.

"Nicola!" Mom was glaring. "I cannot believe you asked her how old she was."

"I don't like her very much," Dad interrupted, still staring into the corridor.

"I know," Mom said, forgetting about Nicola.

"I don't think you should take advice from King Maxon, Oliver," Dad said, and I reluctantly nodded. I wanted to protest. King Maxon ran a successful country; a country much bigger than our own, and he seemed quite wise. Whatever he said would certainly only benefit me.

Mom turned her attention back to Nicola, and I sighed. Nicola gave me a small smile, meaning that she didn't need me to rescue her, and I headed back towards my room.

When I finally arrived, I sat at my desk and put my head in my hands for a moment. I grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and scribbled a quick note to King Maxon, asking for his advice and requesting to possibly meet in an hour at five.

James was nowhere to be seen so I grudgingly opened my door in search of someone to take my note. A maid was passing by, and I waved for her to stop.

"What's your name?" I asked. I'd never seen her before.

"Laura, Your Highness," she said, curtsying.

"Laura, would you mind doing me a favour? I'd like this note to go to King Maxon, if you please."

She nodded. "Yes, sir, I have time. My family's busy anyhow. My daughter Chantel is certainly terrorizing the cooks by now," she smiled, then froze, realizing she'd talked out of place, but I simply smiled.

"Chantel? You must be James' wife then," I said, and she nodded. "James is a very good man," I said approvingly and she blushed before curtsying again and hurrying off.

I sighed and watched her walk away before returning to my room and shutting the door.

America's POV

The rooms they had provided were quite lovely, and Mary was extremely happy with the lavish walk-in closet. The main room was a living room, and it had two doors on the left and right, and one door in the back of the room (opposite the door to enter). The doors on the left lead to Maxon's bedroom and bathroom and the doors on the right led to mine. The door opposite the entrance was the huge closet, containing both our things.

For now, I had kicked Maxon out of the closet so that I could get ready for dinner. Mary had me in a dark green sleeveless ballgown. This dress had a sweetheart neckline and diagonal creases starting at said neckline and traveling to my knees. At my knees, the dress flowed out and left a little train. Though I never really considered green to be my colour, I quite liked the dress, and stood patiently as Mary made the required alterations.

I heard a knock and Maxon went to the door to open it.

"Oliver," he greeted.

"Your Highness, if I could just bother you for some advice." The poor boy sounded quite tired, actually. "I don't want some arranged marriage. I want a wife, or a friend. I want someone special, the kind of love they have in movies," he laughed bitterly. "Is that even real?"

"Of course," Maxon said. "I felt the same way."

Apparently Oliver must have looked surprised, because Maxon laughed.

"You're marrying for love? Not powerful bonds and peace treaties?" He paused a moment, then continued. "My parents never really seemed in love, and so I always figured the role of a prince required you to decide a proper queen for the country, not necessarily for yourself as well."

"I had doubts as well," Maxon said. "There were times I wished I wasn't a prince so that I'd have the freedom to choose whomever I wished."

"So.." Oliver said hesitantly, "You chose your fiancee out of love?"

"Well, America adores me. Simply fawns over me. Although, who could blame her. That was certainly one of the reasons I chose her," Maxon said jokingly, knowing I could hear.

I quietly gasped and saw that Mary was smirking. "We have to get him back, Mary," I whispered. "But how?" She rolled her eyes and concentrated on her work, but a brilliant idea struck me and I let out a (hopefully) lovestruck sigh.

"I know, Mary. The Illean guards are so handsome. They're great kissers too…" I'd said all this quite loudly and quite dramatically, but trailed off as I heard Oliver gasp and Maxon huff in anger. I could hear him stomping towards the closet and throw open the doors, but I looked elsewhere, pretending to be completely innocent.

"America," Maxon said sharply, "What is the meaning of this?"

I finally turned my head to him and smirked. "It's payback. I don't fawn over you."

Maxon was still glaring and I could tell he'd approach the subject better. Inwardly, I sighed slightly. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea. I didn't regret the payback, more so the subject I'd chosen. Based off my past with Aspen, I could really hurt Maxon.

Oliver nodded to me, seeming quite confused and slightly amused at the scene.

"Remember, Ames. You're mine," Maxon said.

"Well, technically, I'm not yours yet," I told him jokingly and he glared.

"Good idea, love. We'll go back to Illea immediately and be married. We'll simply recreate our wedding for the country later."

I just laughed. "You can wait, Maxon. We'll manage."

He smiled and leaned over to give me a quick kiss, trying not to get in the way of the dress.

"Out, Your Majesties," Mary spoke up. "I daresay, King Maxon, you've ruined Lady's dress already!"

"I'm terribly sorry, Mary," Maxon said, bowing to her as he left, Oliver in tow.

After a few hours, I was finally ready. The gown had been altered to fit me perfectly and my hair fell in soft curls; the front wisps were pinned back so they wouldn't get into my eyes. Mary had then surprised me with a beautiful silver circlet made up of delicate leaves and vines. I loved it, and she refused to tell me where she'd gotten it. The shoes matched my dress, and I was thankful that the heel wasn't too high. I was going to avoid high heel shoes for as long as possible. I knew that as a Queen, it would be much harder.

The other exciting part of my outfit (as if there weren't enough) was the lack of makeup. It almost made me nervous that Mary had so adamantly refused; she must have been trying to make a point of some sort. Makeup was a safety blanket for royals, practically a rule. Though, if you wore too much of it, you'd get equally as much scorn as if you didn't wear enough.

When I walked out of the closet, I could see the shock in Maxon's eyes. By my side, Mary was smiling proudly.

"You look beautiful," Maxon said, taking my hand. I nodded my thanks and turned back to Mary.

"I'm not sure I want to get rid of this dress or the circlet," I told Mary. Sometimes we got rid of my older dresses, choosing to repurpose them. Many times, I'd worn the dress to something important, and therefore couldn't wear it again, but didn't love it enough to keep it.

Mary just laughed and shooed us out the door.

"I am sorry I got you so mad," I told Maxon as we walked down the hallways, and he shrugged.

"It's alright. I know you well enough now to know that you wouldn't go around kissing the handsome guards behind my back. But please, no more jokes like that. It scares me anyway," he said, smiling.

I laughed. "You're much more handsome than they are."

"I would hope so."

At this, I laughed, and we continued on in silence for a while.

"You know, there is only one thing that could make me happier tonight," Maxon said, and I raised my eyebrows curiously. "I would much rather be escorting my wife to dinner than my fiancee."

I laughed. "Patience, Maxon. We'll be married soon enough. Until then, we'll both have to be happy as is."

He smiled and we walked into the dining room. The royal family stood, and I noticed their shock at my loose hair and makeup-free face. Maxon noticed it too, because he squeezed my arm. By this time, they had quickly covered up their shock and motioned to the seats.

"Mary did an excellent job. Perfect for this outing," Maxon said quietly, to reassure me.

Both Queen Noella and Princess Nicola were done up more than me. Queen Noella was wearing a flowing white dress and Princess Nicola was in pink. I took my seat beside Nicola, and didn't miss the disapproving glare the Queen sent my way.

"So, Nic," I said, turning to the girl. "Perhaps you'd like to give me some princess advice. You've been at it much longer than me."

She smiled. "We're in slightly different situations, since I have less responsibilities and more princes to deal with, but I can try."