Maxon POV:
I was playing with my ring nervously. I was also wishing that the other ring was on America's hand instead of Kriss's. But right now I had to focus on the task of saving America, before I could even begin to think about ways to let her forgive me.
The door opened and I straightened my back and put on my most regal face. And I tried my best to calm my fidgeting hands. A weary Aspen was followed by a tired August Illea. I smiled at him and August nodded.
" Your Majesty," he bowed as the guards took their place at each corner of the room. Aspen had assembled a group of guards that were loyal to the betterment of the country which meant me instead of my father.
" Call me Maxon," I said gesturing to the chair in front of me. " How have you been."
" I married Georgia. We have a little boy, a girl on the way." He sounded disinterested. " Why did you call me?"
" I need your help."
" With what?"
" America has been kidnapped." His eyes widened. I wondered if he still wished I had chosen her. Much of the kingdom still hoped I would. I also hadn't talked to August in a long time. I think he realized that while my father was alive, I could never rid the castes. My father would kill me if I tried to.
I produced the letter from my pocket and showed it to him. His eyes narrowed as he read. Then his eyes widened in understanding.
" I know who it is."
" Who?"
" My brother. He joined the Southern Rebels." Southern Rebels? His father had eradicated them. In a way I had hated, but it got rid of them. They hadn't had an attack in ages.
" Could you help me then? I would give anything to get her back, but my father…" August smiled understandingly. And for a second it seemed like they were friends. That he knew too how much he still loved America, how much he needed her.
" I will help you, I will need a little money. But nothing your father would notice." August nodded diplomatically. " I have one more request."
" Anything."
" If anything should happen to me and Georgia. Or our safe haven. Will you protect my son?"
I smiled. Averia would love a new friend. " Only if you accept my request." August nodded, looking a little worried.
" I have a daughter. America's daughter. While you are on this mission bring your son here. I think my daughter would like a friend." August looked relieved.
" Thank you Maxon."
" Thank you."
" What are friends for?" I grinned. It had been a while since I had a friend.
America POV:
I wasn't sure how long I had been in here. They gave me food, more than I could usual scrape together at home, that was good. But I also couldn't count the number of perverted glances the 'guards' gave me.
I had mastered my 'if you look at me I will break your neck' look now, so they looked at me less. The scar man, as I called him, never came in again. Nothing ever happened. I wondered how long he had given Maxon to give him whatever he wanted. He was going to be disappointed.
Maxon could care less about what happened to her.
I was now mindlessly drawing on the dusty floor. Line, circle, line. Suddenly, the shattering of glass echoed around the room. I stood fast. I heard people screaming, people shouting out orders. Then the door was opening.
Arms pushed me forward and I moved up stairs, stumbling and falling. Screaming and shattering of glass. Silent tears were falling down my cheeks though I couldn't understand why. I knew I was going to die. It didn't matter when.
I just hoped Maxon got my letter. I hoped that he wasn't as cruel as I believed. I hoped he would keep her safe.
They reached the top floor, and for the first time in ages (at least it seemed so) I saw the light. The glass was shattered and people in all black were standing around the room, guns pointed at the masses. I was trembling now. And then a voice boomed above them.
" Give us Lady America. Or we will light this place up, and nothing but flames will remain." For people who were willing to bomb this place, I had to admit. Their threats almost sounded poetic.
Hands pushed me to the front of the group towards the man who had spoke. He leaned and whispered something that was the last thing I expected to hear.
" Maxon sent me"
They had walked out of the place she had been in a perfect march. According to the man, who still hadn't taken off his mask, she had been there for about a week. When they were on trucks of their way to the dreaded palace, he took off his mask.
I stared at him for a moment. He seemed familiar. A part of my past I wanted to forget. August Illea. I smiled. He wasn't a bad thing to remember. He had saved her.
" August," I said.
" Hello, Lady America."
" I'm not a Lady anymore."
" Maxon already made you one." I scowled. " You should give him another chance. He did everything to protect you and your daughter."
" He did nothing," then my mind caught on his words and I looked up, " My daughter, is she alright?" August smiled. The truck jostled beneath them.
" She's perfectly fine. She's with my son."
" You have a son?"
" Yes, his name is Nathaniel."
" How old is he?"
" Seven," August smiled, " He's quite the troublemaker."
" You should see Averia. She can make people do anything she wants." Suddenly the truck stopped. I bit my lip nervously. I would see Maxon now. Did I want to see Maxon? No, I hated him. I…
They opened the door. And there he was. Tapping his toe and watching the vans nervously. Even after all this time, I could still tell when he was nervous. The guards went out in front of me. Then August. He held his hand out and I took it nervously.
Maxon's eyes widened and he started to run forward, then stopped, then walked forward.
" Where is Averia?" I asked him looking past him.
" She's with Aspen and Lucy. Can I…" he started but I walked past him.
" America, please," he begged. I kept walking. He touched my arm. My skin lit at his touch. How could my emotions betray me. I hated him. I whirled around backhanding him. My hand burned and he stumbled back, his eyes tearing.
I walked in again. My heart felt sore and my throat was clogged. My hand burned. But I wasn't sure if it was because I slapped him or because I struck him. I couldn't forgive him. He had turned me into an eight. He had made my daughter and I suffer. I hated him. A tear slipped down my cheek. I wouldn't love him. I wouldn't love him again.
Right?
But little did she know, she had never stopped loving him.
hope you liked it. Comments always welcome! Love you all!
- alunarselectedreader
