Panting and sweating, my maids and I sat in the centre of the room, the light dim and the air still. Coolness lingered in the space, and though sweat was dripping down my temples, I felt cold. We huddled together, steadying ourselves and scanning our hide out. There was a shelf filled with provisions that would last us quite a long time, and a few piles of old blankets beside a rusted sink. The palace should really upgrade their safe rooms. Who knew if water still flowed from that tap?
The throbbing headache had resumed its work, and something hammered the back of my skull, thudding incessantly. My nose had started dully aching again, and I tried to take deep breaths to cool myself down. But that only made it worse, the air tasted like rusted metal, and I felt like gagging after a few breaths.
"Lady America, are you ok?" Anne touched my back gently, pulling the robe closer around my frame.
"Yes, yes, just a slight headache," I lied; my head was killing me. I stumbled towards the blankets and lay my heavy head on the pile, not caring what I was doing. The pain needed to stop.
Mary glanced worriedly at me, and then at Lucy, who was shaking like a leaf and taking quick gulps of air. She was hunched in a tight ball in a corner, rocking and making gasping noises. Not being able to move, I curled up on the freezing concrete floor, the cold numbing my senses, and drifted off into a dream-like state; not asleep but not conscious either.
When I had almost managed to get into a restless sleep, a gunshot rang through the hall right outside our room. I jerked straight up; my muscles tensed, and listened for any movement. There were sounds of a scuffle, and then a boot thudding heavily on someone's body, the crack of a bone, then a second gunshot. Southern Rebels. Lucy whimpered, her teeth clamming down onto her hands to prevent her screams. The boom of the shot rang in my ears, and my head whirled as the sound crawled deeper into my brain; then I threw up, my vomit lying in a puddle by my feet.
"Lady America, what happened?!" Mary gasped, hurrying over to me. She carefully lowered my head onto the pile of blankets, as if handling a newborn's tender crown, and begins to clean the puke on the ground. My maids were so courageous, they only thought of me.
Then, a loud tap rapped the wall, and the door slid open, revealing a familiar pair of leather shoes. Maxon stepped in, taking heavy breaths, and pushed the door shut, turning to face our entourage.
"America! What are you doing here? Aren't you with the rest?" He looked in disbelief, sliding the key he had used to get in into his pocket.
I tried to reply, but all that escaped was a groan, and I just lay there staring at him.
"Your Majesty," Anne curtsied, "We weren't able to get Lady America to the Royals' safe room in time, and so a guard brought us here."
"What's wrong with America?" Maxon eyed the vomit that Mary was still wiping, and his concerned gaze flickered to me.
"She has been having terrible headaches since she broke her nose, and it has gotten worse while escaping to this room. She just threw up a-"
Maxon crossed the room to me in a few strides, and kneeled by my head, stroking my hair and gazing down at me with gentle eyes. His mask had finally been taken off. Well, at least for the time being. He pulled my robe over my shivering body, tucking the soft woolen material under me, creating a barrier between the floor and my skin. I instantly felt better, and my heavy eyelids closed, all the while feeling Maxon's fingers brushing my hair.
I awoke sometime later, and not being able to judge what time it was, I was unsure of how long I had slept. My maids were all asleep, blankets covering their bodies, and Maxon was curled up beside me, a hand protectively placed on my arm. When he felt me stir, his eyes flashed open, and seeing no threat, began to ease into a smile.
"How are you?" He asked, lightly touching my temple. "Still aching?"
"A little, but I'm much better," I croaked. "Maybe just a little disoriented."
He laughed softly, and put an arm around my shoulders, giving me warmth.
"Why are you here? This place is miles away from the safe room." I questioned, blinking the sleep away from my eyes.
"Well, I was taking a stroll in the gardens and-"
"In the middle of the night?" I looked at him incredulously.
"Yes, I just needed time to think, you know."
Think about what, I wanted to ask but resisted the idea. I didn't need any of this right now.
"So, anyway, I heard the sirens and knowing I wouldn't be able to get to the opposite side of the castle in time, I came here, knowing this was the closest place to where I was. But rebels were already pouring in by then, and when I got here, two of them were fighting a guard. They spotted me, and were going to shoot when another guard tackled them from behind. And while they were distracted, Officer Leger led me in here."
"Aspen?" I breathed.
Maxon's body grew stiff, and I felt more vomit making its way up my throat. Why did I have to say that? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now things were going to be cold between us again.
But Maxon relaxed, and held me closer, breathing into my ear.
"I'm so glad you're fine," he began, but the door slid open, and a palace guard walked in.
"It's over, Your Majesty," he bowed, and placed the key back into his coat.
But just as he pulled his hand out, a gun appeared too, aiming right at our huddled bodies.
In a split second, Maxon turned his back to the gun and ducked, sheltering me in his embrace, but a pained gasp made its way out of Maxon's lips, and he crashed to the ground.
Crimson spread over his white suit.
Everyone loves a cliff hanger, right?