Thank you to supergirls2008 and CRAZIEGRACE. The reviews made me decide to maybe add another chapter. Apparently you guys like this so I will keep going.

Maxon's POV

When morning shines through my windows I pull myself from self form sleep. America is snoring softly next to me. I hear a soft knock on the door before it swings open. It is my butler, Andy.

"Your Majesty, I'm sorry to barge in like this, but you're needed at a budget meeting in half an hour."

I nod. I press a finger to my lips and he nods. Andy leaves and I stare down at my sleeping wife. I run my fingers across her soft, red hair that is strewn across her pillow. She is too whole and pure to be hurt like this. Especially by someone she called a brother in another life. I remember the first time she told me about Kota. She was angry and ever since I have held a second hand opinion on Kota that he is an ass. When he disowned himself, my theory was confirmed. I think even little Gerad, who had looked up to his older brother, looked at him with a new lens.

Love is a beautiful fear.

But now I have an even greater challenge, bigger than taking care of America and Illea. I have to protect America from Kota. That may be even harder.

When I look back down I see America's bright blue eyes looking at me. She give me a ghost of a smile.

"Maxon do I have to do anything today?" she asks, winding her fingers into mine.

"Well, first you have to tell me how to deal with him." I say the word like I am spitting poison. America flinches.

"Maxon... he's still my brother." she says looking at our hands.

"America-"

"No! Listen to me Maxon!" she says with anger in her eyes. "Yes. I agree he needs to be punished. But, I don't want him killed!" How had she known that is what I had wanted? I suck in a breath trying to stay calm.

"I don't want you to get hurt," I say softly.

"Why would I be hurt? If we knock him down a caste..." she trails off realizing her mistake. Caste climbers, like her brother, would do anything to rise to the top. So if we bumped him down, then he would blame America for a) bumping him down and b) telling me.

"America? Can we talk about this when I don't have to be in a meeting in fifteen minutes?"

"Sure," she says and I place a kiss on her forehead and pull myself from the bed. "But, Maxon? I want to work today. And would you stop looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" I ask lifting an eyebrow.

"Like I'm about the shatter into a million pieces. I'm not."