After getting off the plane in Clermont, a long car ride awaited the royal couple before they could reach their second to last destination, the Clermont Everglades. They had stayed up rather late the night before, and then had held a brief conference call with his advisers early in the morning in order to keep the country running in their absence, which made Maxon tired enough to fall asleep a little while into the drive. America, however, couldn't sleep. Their honeymoon was about to be over, and as sad as she was about that, she was scared. She was scared of the country, scared of going back to the palace, and she was scared of being queen.

Without Maxon to keep her busy, America resorted to staring out the window, watching the neighborhoods of Clermont go by. Close to the major cities the houses were large and well maintained with large green lawns sprawling in front of them. There had been plenty of well-dressed people walking the sidewalks of the city, waving at the royal motorcade excitedly. America had neither the heart nor the security clearance to roll down her heavily tinted window and wave at the crowd.

The sight of a tall brunette woman in a red dress had brought back memories of one of America's closest allies from her Selection. Her thoughts quickly ran away from her as she contemplated her friendship with Celeste. She had been puzzled at first about how Celeste could've been so unhappy and unsure of herself when she had everything that she could have wanted. Now, as queen, America understood perfectly. On the outside she had everything: a palace, fancy dresses, sparkling jewelry, a trip across the country, and a loving husband. But really, she still had her doubts about being queen.

The houses had grown steadily more dilapidated and small the further the royal car had gotten from the Clermont airport. Some had boarded up windows, rotting roofs, or sagging porches, and the small businesses they passed were in similar conditions if not out of business. The crowds on the streets were smaller and the people's clothes were worn. America watched outside the window with growing distress at the conditions in the country she had the responsibility to protect. It was becoming clear to the new queen that the situation in Carolina she had grown up with wasn't the worst of the problems facing her country.

She glanced over at Maxon whose head had fallen on her shoulder and began to run her fingers through his hair absentmindedly. Did he know about this? She contemplated waking him up to discuss it but thought better of it when she recalled all the problems they had discussed at the meeting earlier that were already troubling him. Besides, his face looked so calm and handsome when he slept. She turned her gaze back to the window.

"That feels so good, America" Maxon startled her out of her reverie some minutes later. America's fingers had continued to massage her slumbering husband's hair, and had evidently woken him up.

"Oh really? I hadn't even realized I was still doing it." America replied, still looking out the window. Maxon followed her gaze and wrapped his arm around his wife and they sat in comfortable silence. America finally worked up the courage to tell him what she had been thinking of earlier,

"Maxon, I've been looking at all these houses, and I had no idea people out here were living like this. Isn't there something we can do?" Maxon sighed. And she turned her head to look at him. From the look in his eyes, clearly he had noticed the same things she had about the state of the province.

"We already are doing something, Ames. I passed a law not long after I became king offering housing assistance and tax breaks to the people struggling in the southern provinces" He told her. This royal initiative was news to America. She pursed her lips, embarrassed at her lack of knowledge.

"Is there anything I can do?" She asked sweetly. Maxon grinned appreciatively.

"Economic policy like that isn't something traditionally in The Queen's sphere of influence." He began, and America opened her mouth indignantly,

"But I get the feeling you're not going to be a very traditional queen. I can't think of anything you could do to help at the moment. We're really just waiting to see how the changes I made affect things before going forward. But I'll definitely tell you if there's something you can help with." Maxon promised. America nodded, still disturbed and concerned about her people.

Maxon gently ran his thumb along her furrowed brow, as if attempting to smooth out her worries.

"Love, don't think too much about it now. We'll have plenty of time to worry about all of this when we get back home" he reminded her.

"Besides, it really turns me on when my wife cares about the well-being of her people" he said, soliciting a laugh from America, which he quickly silenced with a passionate kiss. And America did forget for a while, her thoughts completely consumed with the wonderful man she called her husband.

America carefully lowered herself into the bright orange kayak that she was going to use to explore the marsh with, trying not to tip it over. She firmly resolved to stay dry during this adventure, as she didn't want to have to wash any muddy water out of her hair that night. However, she recognized the distinct possibility that her clumsiness would lead to the small boat tipping over.

"Ready, My Dear?" Maxon called to her from a few yards away, already rowing his kayak towards the mangrove trees in the distance.

"Wait a second!" she called "I've never done this before!" Maxon looked back at America, who had an adorably confused look on her face as she tried to figure out how to hold her paddle. He turned around and pulled his boat up next to her to show her how to properly row and turn her kayak.

"Hopefully I'm teaching you right" he said. "I've only been kayaking once on a rare family vacation to Honduraga, and I was only ten"

"Well then" America replied "We can fail spectacularly together"

Maxon laughed and glanced at her mischievously.

"See that branch over there?" he asked, pointing at a piece of wood floating in the distance. America nodded

"Race you!" He called and started rowing as fast as he could towards it.

"Hey no fair!" She exclaimed, but she was already paddling as fast as she could after him.

"You got a head start!"

"Maxon!" America cried in frustration. Somehow, she mad managed to get herself stuck in the roots of a tree, and now she couldn't get her kayak unstuck. Her husband rowed his own kayak over to her and chuckled at her predicament.

"It's not funny, I'm stuck!" She exclaimed, her patience with wearing thin. She just couldn't seem to get the hang of the whole turning bit.

"I'm sorry, I'll help get you out. I'll pull, you push." Maxon conceded. He situated himself behind her and started pulling on her boat while America braced her hands against the roots and tried to push her boat out. Suddenly, the boat was freed, but the force the couple had been using sent the boat wobbling backwards. America tried to steady herself, but her efforts were in vain and her kayak tipped.

An unladylike shriek escaped her lips before the murky lukewarm water enveloped her. America's toes squelched against the slimy bottom of the lake and she shuddered at the unpleasant feeling. When her head broke the surface of the water, she found Maxon smiling widely and obviously trying very hard to suppress laughter.

America pushed her sopping wet hair out of her face and tried to glare at Maxon, who was openly snickering at her misfortune. This only made him laugh more since she probably resembled an extremely grumpy cat who can been given an unexpected bath.

It was America who ended up getting the last laugh, though. The corner of her mouth quirked up as she swam towards Maxon's boat and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Ames, wha-?" was all he managed to get out before she pulled him down and tipped his boat over too.

When he resurfaced she reminded him,

"We fail spectacularly together, remember?"