'America?'

I jumped back from Aspen, dropping my arms from around him as though I had been burnt. My head whipped round to see Maxon standing in the doorframe, looking more shocked than I'd ever seen him – more shocked than when I kneed him in the thigh, more than when I told him that the others knew I'd seen him shirtless, even more than when he realised I'd been shot.

My mouth was moving before I knew what I was going to say. 'Maxon–'

'Don't.' He cut me off with a flick of his hand. He took a step into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. His shock was melting away, replaced by something else I couldn't name, even as he schooled his expression into one of calm disinterest.

Maxon stopped in front of Aspen, who had got to his feet and was standing not quite at attention. 'What's your name? Your first name?'

'Aspen.' The guard's eyes met the prince's, each trying to read something I couldn't understand in the other.

'Aspen Leger.' Maxon chewed his lip for a second, then jerked his chin towards the door. 'Wait outside.'

Aspen glanced at me apologetically, then headed for the door. It shut with a soft click, then Maxon and I were alone. I grimaced inwardly at what was sure to follow – but at least I knew I was going home anyway. There was nothing else he could do to me – short of another public caning. But would that inflame or appease the Renegades? They were too random to predict.

Maxon ran a hand through his hair, the sudden motion pulling me back to the present. I steeled myself, waiting for him to speak, but as the silence stretched on, I realised that he didn't look as angry as I feared – strangely, he just looked thoughtful.

I opened my mouth to say something – what, I still didn't know – but Maxon held up a hand, gesturing for me to wait. Whatever he was thinking, it was setting me on edge.

Finally, he blinked a couple of times, shaking himself out of his reverie, and focused his attention on me. I met his gaze hesitantly, and found it lacking the venom I was expecting.

'Maxon, I –'

'Is he the one you were trying to escape from?'

I frowned for a second, before I remembered the conversation we'd had weeks and weeks ago, right at the start of the Selection, when I told him that I didn't want to go home because I didn't want to face the person who'd broken my heart. Unsure as to whether I could keep manage anything more than a whisper, I just nodded, dropping my gaze as a wave of shame crashed through me.

'That worked well, then?'

I looked up, utterly shocked. I knew him well enough that I could hear the smile he was hiding in his voice, but at that moment I thought I was hearing things. But when I saw his smirk, I started to wonder whether he had lost it.

'You're not a very good liar, America.'

I stared at him. 'What?'

'I knew there was something going on, ever since Hallowe'en. You became more jumpy, worried when we passed certain guards, but at the same time, I could see that you were warring with yourself. You even told me so. So I guessed that something had happened – that the boy who broke your heart was here, and that you were trying to decide what would make you happy. I came by your room one evening, and I heard voices. Yours, and a man's. I heard you tell him that you needed a clear head, that you needed some time to think… That you had to make a decision.' He broke off abruptly. He closed his eyes, then asked, 'Why didn't you tell me he was here?'

I couldn't speak. He knew? And he wasn't angry? That or he was hiding it incredibly well.

Maxon was still waiting expectantly. I grimaced, then replied, 'I couldn't risk his safety. There isn't anything between us any more – there hasn't been for weeks – but he's still my best friend. How could I risk telling you? And after Marlee…' I trailed off, noticing Maxon's dark look.

'Yes… Marlee. She told you the story. How she was only caned, when the punishment ought to have been death. But believe me, if it had been possible, I would have let her and Officer Woodwork leave in peace, to a place of their choosing. I only gave that sentence because it wasn't me who found them together – a journalist did, meaning I couldn't hide their relationship.'

I saw the pain in his eyes as he remembered that awful day, where Marlee and Carter's happiness was paid for in blood and tears. That incident had led to the longest fight we'd ever had, partly because I didn't understand his side of the story.

It was also when I'd told Aspen I needed space to think.

'I don't understand. How can you be so… so… calm?' The confusion was evident in my voice. 'Aren't you angry?'

'Oh, I was,' Maxon demurred. 'But when I heard you tell him you had to think, I knew you had as much of a choice to make as I did. And how exactly could I fault you for that when I had to do the exact same thing? My choice was just more public.' He pursed his lips. 'Although I still wish you'd told me.'

I winced. 'I know. I'm so sorry, Maxon.'

He shrugged. 'It's okay. Doesn't matter much now, anyway.' His eyes flicked to mine. 'I am sorry about that. You know I would never have done that if there were any other way to help Celeste.'

I put my hand over his, twining my fingers through his tense ones, making him relax slightly. Stroking his hand with my thumb, I said, 'I understand. I wouldn't have wished your father's anger on anyone – not even Celeste. Probably,' I added with a smirk.

Maxon rolled his eyes, then grew serious again. 'I'm going to miss you, my dear.'

'Don't call me that.' The words slipped out almost automatically. 'I'll miss you too.'

His eyes bore into mine. Slowly, so slowly, he leaned forward to kiss me one last time. My eyes fluttered shut, and I savoured the feeling of his lips on mine, warm and soft and… salty, I realised, both from his tears and my own.

He drew back, quickly wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. Then Maxon stood, calling for Aspen as I used my last tissue to dry my face.

Aspen came in, not furtively as I might have expected, but standing tall, his expression set in defiance. He looked like he was about to go into battle. I stood up as well, but stayed slightly behind Maxon, waiting for his reaction to meeting Aspen properly.

He stopped in front of Maxon, looking down on him from his marginally greater height. Soldier and prince stared at each other, each trying to get the measure of the other, until a small smile twitched at Maxon's lips, breaking the image of an irate royal.

'I may not exactly approve of your relationship to America, but I can't really fault your taste.'

Aspen's eyes widened in surprise, as did mine. This was quickly becoming a very weird day.

Maxon held out his hand and Aspen shook it tentatively. Letting go, Aspen leaned round Maxon to see me and mouthed, 'What?'

'He knew. Before this. About us,' I summed up. That wasn't quite coherent English, but it got the message across.

Aspen quirked an eyebrow. 'If you don't mind me asking, Your Highness… if you knew, why didn't you do anything about it?'

Maxon took a step to the side, so that we were standing in a triangle. He held out his left hand for mine, and, meeting my eyes, explained: 'America had as much right to not choose me as I did to choose her.'

Aspen's eyes sparked, as if he suddenly understood the whole situation.

'Well, you don't really need to worry about that anymore,' Aspen said. 'We both know she chose you… and someone else chose me.' His expression softened, and I wondered at how self-absorbed I must have been to miss how he did that every time Lucy was mentioned.

'About that,' I interjected. 'Maxon, will you promise me something?'

He squeezed my hand. 'Anything, my dear. As ever.'

'Can you make sure my maids keep their positions? All three would see it as a reprimand to be sent back down to the kitchens. And,' I added, 'it makes it easier for Aspen to visit if they're up here.' I smirked as I saw Aspen shift guiltily at my words.

Maxon grinned. 'It would be my honour.'

He looked at his watch and his smile faded. 'I have to go.' He drew me towards him by the hand still laced with mine and kissed me chastely on the cheek. 'See you downstairs.'

He let go of my hand and turned to leave. Aspen took this as his cue to go as well, and after wrapping me in a quick bear hug, joined Maxon at the door. Maxon dipped his head me, a solemn farewell. Aspen half-smiled and threw a joking 'Love you' my way, then followed my prince out the door.

Just before it snicked shut, I heard a muttered 'Don't push it, buddy,' from Maxon, and a snort from Aspen. Then the door closed, and I was alone.