The royal family was absent from breakfast, leaving just Celeste and Kriss to keep me company.

Celeste was the first to point out Elise's absence.

"Maybe she's just not feeling well this morning," dismissed Kriss immediately. Her lips pursed. "Or maybe she's having breakfast with Maxon. Maxon never mentioned sending anyone home."

I shook my head slightly toward Kriss. It surprised me that they didn't know yet. Rumors usually spread like wildfire in the palace.

"So…It's just the three of us?" gawked Kriss. "How do you know?"

"Maxon told me," I responded casually, not feeling a pressing need to lie. Kriss bit her bottom lip and looked at me hard, her gaze not wavering from my own.

"Just the three of us, then," she said with a smile. "Poor Elise, though, she was such a sweet girl."

Celeste scoffed. "I'm sure she's already in New Asia by now. Her family has been writing to her about marriage proposals from over there for weeks. She knew she'd marry into nobility one way or another. Some people have it easy."

This seemed to light a fire under Kriss. "But to lose Prince Maxon-"

"You can't lose something you don't have," interjected Celeste. "And not even you have Prince Maxon. Besides, you don't see him weeping over her leaving. Why should she?"

"I'm sure this is all very hard for him," defended Kriss passionately.

"Hard for him?" echoed Celeste, obviously enjoying how much she was getting under Kriss' skin. "He's the one in control of all this. He can do whatever he wants. We're the puppets, and he pulls the strings."

"That's not true," I interjected, feeling the need to say something. "You can always leave if you want."

And suddenly I realized the lie in those words. I had asked to be sent home, and Maxon had refused. It wasn't as simple as Celeste made it seem; Maxon was not in complete control of this entire process, but the three of us sitting at the table were very much small pawns in the whole event.

"You're missing the point," Celeste responded dismissively. "All I'm saying is don't waste your time thinking Elise is somewhere heartbroken. She's smarter than that. I guarantee she'll be married within the month."

"No," snapped Kriss, "you're missing the point. You shouldn't even be here, Celeste."

"But I am," responded Celeste sweetly. I watched as Kriss angrily gathered herself to leave. "So what does that say about your Prince Maxon?"

Kriss hesitated at the door. "He doesn't know who you really are. But I'll tell him. I'm going to tell him all about you, Celeste, and how absolutely awful you are to absolutely everyone."

With Kriss gone, Celeste set her gaze on me. "You know better."

And I did. Maxon wasn't the perfect person that Kriss idolized. Sometimes I doubted that I knew the real Maxon, in all his faces and all his sides.

"You shouldn't torment her like that," I responded instead.

"I wasn't trying to torment her. She just needs to wrap her head around this whole situation. She's miserable here, and she's attributing it to us. We're not the problem, America."

"This is a difficult situation to be in." I studied Celeste's face, trying to discern whatever game she was playing at.

"Because being Queen is such an easy one to be in."

We finished the rest of our breakfast in silence.

I waited for Celeste to leave first. My intention was to find Queen Amberly that morning, and I didn't want Celeste to follow. It was selfish in many ways, but this was a competition, after all, and I didn't want Celeste to gain any advantage over me. Especially because it was Celeste.

I headed toward the Woman's Room. To my surprise, Queen Amberly was there. However, she was not alone.

The Italian Princess sat with Queen Amberly, enjoying a quiet breakfast with just the two of them.

I curtsied politely at the pair, apologizing for interrupting. As I went to excuse myself, the Italian Princess interrupted me.

"Please stay," she urged. Queen Amberly motioned for one of the maids to bring another chair to the table.

"I didn't mean to interrupt - "

"Nonsense," insisted Queen Amberly.

"We were just talking about you," added the Princess, making room for me for them at the table.

"About the whole Selection, really," corrected the Queen politely.

"None of us can wait for the engagement," gushed the Princess. "My brother says it is the most important thing for our two countries in centuries."

I smiled politely, unsure of what she was trying to say.

"He wishes he could have come," added the Princess apologetically, directed mainly toward the Queen. "He doesn't enjoy traveling as much as I do, but he was very disappointed that he was unable to come and speak with King Clarkson after what a great time we had last month."

"We understand, Maria," returned Queen Amberly with a knowing smile. "I'm sure you're father keeps him busy."

"So, who is it going to be?" pressed the Princess, leaning in close to me.

I fumbled, entirely unsure of what to say. Queen Amberly promptly came to my rescue.

"I don't even think my son knows at this point," she responded dismissively. "What about you, Maria? Any engagements in your future?"

Princess Maria sighed heavily. "Father says it would be improper for me to marry before my eldest brother, and he is more focused on learning to rule than finding love."

I focused intently on the Princess. The image she portrayed was one of maturity. From the way she spoke, I could tell that she was intelligent and well versed in politics, as would be expected when one grows up in a royal family. It surprised me to realize that she was most likely around my age, give or take a year or two. Yet, she maneuvered all of this so easily. It made me respect and envy her.

A maid appeared and placed on a piece of paper in front of Princess Maria. The maid curtisied and walked away. Queen Amberly and myself remained silent as we allowed Maria to read the note to herself.

Maria smiled and looked toward both of us. "I must excuse myself. Thank you for such a lovely breakfast, Queen Amberly. And, Lady America, I would love to be able to have tea with you later this afternoon."

"I look forward to it," I responded politely, glad to be able to talk to Princess Maria more. I needed her help, but I wasn't sure what she could do for me or how to ask.

"If you need anything, let me know," encouraged Queen Amberly as Maria exited the Woman's Room.

"Did you need something, America?" Queen Amberly looked at me warmly. She seemed more at ease after Princess Maria had left.

I nodded. "When I spoke with Queen Mabelle, she told me of all her responsibilities as the Queen of France. I realized that I only have a very vague picture of just what the Queen of Illea of responsible for."

Queen Amberly smiled as she checked a clock on the wall. "I'm afraid I don't have enough time to get into all of that right now. But perhaps we could have lunch in the garden tomorrow together and discuss it?"

I nodded eagerly.

The Queen chuckled at my enthusiasm. "Seems you keep quite the busy calendar, Lady America."

After excusing herself, Queen Amberly exited the room in a hurry, with two maids following closely at her side. They spoke to her in hushed tones.

I gathered myself, thinking of how busy the royal family had seemed of late. Within the last week, Sylvia had seemed to disappear from the lives of the Elite and our interactions with the royal family had become sparser. I wondered absently on what that meant.

I found myself in front of the Hospital Wing doors. I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob. I lost my nerve and fled for the stairs.

What was I going to do about Aspen?

Guilt coursed through my body. It made me feel sick to my stomach. But I couldn't face it right now. Not with my recent realizations about Maxon.

What was I going to do about Maxon?

I closed the door firmly behind me and dropped into the chair by my desk. My heart ached without the familiar photos adorning my mirror. Even if they had been ruined in the rebel attack, I silently wished that they hadn't just been thrown away without me being asked. I felt disconnected without any tokens from my family.

Everything just felt confusing.

My eyes caught a note with my name on the cover in all too familiar writing. My stomach jumped.

Tugging my ear. Tonight in the garden?

I giggled, elated that I would be able to see Maxon again one on one. With the anticipation of all my future in mind, I crawled into my bed for a mid day nap. Everything seemed to be falling into place.

As I drifted into unconsciousness, I envisioned opening up to Maxon and him admitting to also loving me. I imagined an end to the Selection. I imagined King Clarkson finally approving of me and Queen Amberly welcoming me into her family as the daughter she never had. I imagined everything working out exactly how it was supposed to.

I woke from my nap completely disoriented. For a moment I had no idea what time it was or where I was.

Someone carried me in their arms, with my chest draped over their shoulder. He carried me from my room. As soon as I realized what was going on, I started screaming and thrashing.

My captor was unphased. He continued sprinting at a rapid pace. To each side was another man, neither of which did I recognize. I heard gunshots. The siren followed.

The sudden noise encouraged my efforts. I began to scream. Everything felt blurred and like it was happening on fast forward. My vision would not come into focus.

I pulled my right leg from my captors grasp and managed to knee him in the face as I twisted my hips in an attempt to escape. He cried out and dropped me. My side ached when it made contact with the floor. I scrambled to stand.

I stumbled, trying to force my feet under me amid my disorientation. I recognized the portraits as those that hung in an unoccupied wing of the palace. It was meant for large groups of Royal guests, but hadn't been filled since when the Italians and Germans visited.

I managed to take two crooked steps before one of the rebels tackled me to the ground. My hands were too slow reacting to break my fall. My body wasn't working right.

I threw my right elbow back with as much force as I could muster, as I twisted my body onto my left side. I felt it make contact. The man behind me recoiled, his hand on his face. I stumbled toward my feet again, trying to make them run.

"Help!" I screamed again.

The other two rebels were immediately on me, and forced me to the ground. My shoulder ached from the force they used. I kicked at them, but they nimbly avoided my legs.

Moment later, a strange smelling fabric was being pressed on my face. It was followed by darkness.