Chapter 10

America POV

"Lady America?" A gravelly voice whispered in my ear.

I started. It took me a few seconds to realize where I was and why I was here. "Huh?" My voice was groggy as I sat up, blinking and trying to adjust to the darkness around me.

"The rebels have been eradicated. You may resume your normal activities." It was probably a guard; I could tell by his voice.

"Right." I got up and realized most of the girls were already gone. Only a few of them remained, and a blond girl with way too much makeup and a way too short dress was feeling up Maxon. I wanted to laugh at his uncomfortable expression and red ears and face.

I decided he needed some saving. Catching my balance, I got up and went to him. "Maxon, my dear," I said, linking my arm through his and completely ignoring the girl. "I see you need an escort. Follow me."

The girl glared daggers at me. I looked away so I wouldn't catch on fire and walked with Maxon. "Thank you for saving me," he whispered.

I shrugged. "You looked about ready to let the earth swallow you up. We can't have that, now, can we? You're the heir; we need you."

He snorted, a very ugly sound. I cringed, and thankfully he didn't see since it was so dark. We started ascending the stairs. "Your hair looks like a rat's nest," he noted, his eyes lifting to my messy hair.

"Thank you for noticing," I muttered. "All my maids' hard work. . .wasted."

"No, not wasted," he insisted. "I actually like it."

I was appalled. "Excuse me?"

I could feel him blushing from a mile. "I don't know, it's just. . .pretty."

Feeling the need to change the subject, I quickly said, "Did they find your dad?"

He went quiet for a long while. I focused on breathing through my mouth and not tripping on the steep stairs. "No," he said quietly, almost inaudibly. "They're still searching for him. It's futile, though. They've already scoured the whole place - twice. We're thinking he's either dead or taken hostage by the rebels."

"I'm sorry," I said, albeit awkwardly. This wouldn't just be hard on Maxon; it would be tough on Queen Amberly and the entire country. King Clarkson may have been strict, but he was a good king. I think.

He was searching for something to say, when I suddenly tripped and fell. My knee scraped against the rough cement and my heel clattered down the stairwell. I cursed. Maxon laughed.

I glared up at him, even though he probably couldn't see me. "What is so funny about this, Maxon Schreave?"

I could vaguely see his hands going up in surrender. "Nothing, nothing. Just your use of language. . .Here, let me help." I grumbled as Maxon lifted me up carefully. "Are you okay, America? Have you hurt yourself?"

"Just a missing heel, bent pride, and a scraped knee," I said in an overly cheery voice. "Thank you for being so considerate and asking, Mister Maxon."

He had the nerve to laugh again, causing me to cringe again. Why was his laugh so weird? He sounded kind of like he was having trouble breathing. "Maxon!" I complained. "Would you stop laughing at me?"

"S-sorry, Lady America, you're just funny," he said. "It's been a long time since I've laughed."

"Yeah, well, it kind of shows," I said. "Your laugh really needs some serious fine-tuning."

We were at the top of the stairs now. "Hey!" he said, and it was my turn to chuckle. "You should do very well to go back to your room. I want all my girls to be safe, so as a precaution you're all taking your lunches in your rooms."

"Thank god, because I was kind of getting tired of the Women's Room," I sighed. "The girls are so snippy and gossipy and unlikeable. Except for maybe Mercedes. She's decent."

"Yeah, she's one of the only girls that I truly like," he said. "Her personality is. . .genuine."

Why did that bother me so much? I felt like I had come to be Maxon's favorite, without even wanting it! I had wanted to go home, what, just a few nights ago? Now here I was, getting jealous. Since when had I gotten so petty?

I shook off the thoughts as I went back to the Women's Room and Maxon and I parted ways. I went straight back to my room, where my maids already were. Marlee gave a high-squealed pitch and threw her arms around me. "America! You're alive!"

"Quite alive," I replied. "You look pretty alive yourself."

She laughed. "We were all so worried! The rebel attack wasn't so bad, but it was your first one, so we were wondering if maybe you hadn't gotten down to one of the safe rooms in time. But look! Here you are, alive and healthy and with a haystack of hair!"

"It's my favorite style so far." I posed, and they laughed. "The prince says he likes it this way, though I do not understand why."

Marlee giggled. "The prince likes you?"

"No!" I said quickly. "He just likes my hair this way."

She punched my shoulder lightly. "You're so blind, miss! He totally likes you!"

"You're being silly. That's not even relevant. I'm a Five!"

"Caste doesn't matter! Love conquers all!" she insisted. "I -" she stopped suddenly.

"You what?"

"I found that out the hard way." Her voice lowered and became more somber.

I decided not to pry; it wasn't my business anyway. But I had to wonder; did it have to do with the angry pink scars on the back of her hands?

If that was what love cost, then maybe I shouldn't fall in love with Maxon.

Not that I would, anyways.

The next few days at the palace were quiet. I was getting more and more excited; May and all the other guests were supposed to get here tomorrow, the day before the ball.

Maxon started speed-dating then. Taking girls to the archery range, shooting range, the stables, the movie theater, I heard one girl even went ice-skating with him! And me?

Nothing.

Except that one gone-wrong sort-of date. Which wasn't even considered a date! It wasn't romantic or anything of the sort. In fact, I tried to block out the memory as much as possible. It was a painful memory.

I sat at the balcony, watching the sun set with a mug of hot chocolate in my hand. Actually, more like I was watching the marshmallows melting into the hot chocolate. The sun burned my eyes.

"Need some company, miss?" I looked up to see Marlee there.

I shrugged. "I guess."

She pulled up the chair beside mine and sat. "Do you ever wonder about me?" she asked.

"In what sense?"

"Oh, you know. These always spark peoples' curiosity." She held out her hands.

"I do wonder. But I don't like to nose into peoples' business."

"I was in the prince's last Selection," she said. I nodded, remembering her interview two years ago. She was more bright and cheerful and bubbly, but here she looked older, more mature. "Two days in, I was so disappointed. I was expecting Maxon to be so much more than he turned out to be. I felt nothing towards him, though I was desperate to feel something. And one day, I met him. Carter Woodwork.

"He used to be a guard here. He cared for me, and would visit me and give me little things. But at the Halloween Party, another guard discovered us in a closet. The prince convinced his father not to kill us on the spot or make our punishment public. It was just as bad, though. Being caned twenty times. It's been two years and these scars will always be here. It shows you what you will do for love."

I looked straight into my cup. Tragic story. What could I say? "My love story was tragic, too," I said.

"Would you like to tell me?" she asked gently. "Or is it too painful?"

"I think I kind of need to get this off my chest," I said after a while. "Do you remember Kamber Leger?"

"The Six who won the competition but got killed before she and Maxon could get married? Of course. We're gonna remember her a long time from now."

"She had a brother - an older brother. His name was Aspen. He was a Six at the time, and I was a Five. We met and it was this instant connection. But our love was kind of, I don't know, forbidden. We would meet up at my tiny treehouse in the dead of night so as not to get caught.

"But our relationship had problems. He told me he didn't want me to marry him because he didn't want me to be poor or hungry or scared all the time. We broke up for a while, until Kamber got Selected. Things were looking up for the family, so we got back together.

"He proposed to me, and I accepted. We were engaged and happy and free for a time. But as you know, he went to the palace to watch his sister, cheer her on. And he got killed along with his siblings and mom."

My throat was getting thick, felt like it was closing up. It was getting harder to talk. I was fighting back tears, remembering. . .

"Maybe it just wasn't meant to be," she said in a soft voice. "Maybe the right guy is out there, looking for you."

"I've been dwelling on it for the past two years. It's hard to forget something like that. But since the Selection started, and Maxon came along, things began to change. I can't accept it, but I have to. That Aspen wasn't my 'right guy'."

"He'll come along at the worst possible time, trust me." She was trying to lighten the mood, and I was thankful for it. "Just like Carter did. But things will look up. Something good always comes out of something bad."

"I hope you're right." I said. Then I got up and stretched. "This conversation has been tiring. I think I'm going to retire for the night."

"I think that's my cue." She got up. "Would you like me to draw you a bath?"

Marlee wasn't just a maid. She wasn't someone who did everything she was asked, or someone who could be bossed around and commanded just because they wanted to. She was a true person, with a true personality. I felt bad for asking her for things.

"Um. . ."

"It's okay. This is my job. I've been treated worse."

"Fine." I relented. "Just don't take longer than twenty minutes to prepare it."

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, ma'am." She mock-curtsied and retreated to the bathroom.

I shook my head and sat back down. I continued sipping on my hot chocolate, looking out at the waves. Maybe if Marlee hadn't come and talk to me, I would've wanted to jump into the ocean and swim.

But there were some problems with that. Firstly, I didn't have my swimsuit and I didn't want to ruin hours' worth of work by my maids. Secondly, where could I go? Exactly. Nowhere. Thirdly, Maxon needed me. I was the only one he trusted even a little bit, and I needed to help him find his woman. Fourthly, May was coming tomorrow. I needed to see her.

"Surprise!" A little voice I would recognize anywhere called out.

Speak of the devil. The mug slipped through my fingers and shattered on the cement floor. "MAY!" I shrieked. We ran to each other and met halfway, colliding into each other. We fell to the ground, a tangle of limbs, laughing and crying.

"I can't believe you're here, May! You're early!"

"Of course I am! I wouldn't miss a second of the Schreave summer home luxuries! And I needed to see you, Ames!"

I needed to see her, too. Desperately. I was falling to pieces without my family, most of all May. I missed our useless squabbles and comforting her when she was scared and all our laughs and our shared love of sweets.

And also, we had a lot to catch up on.

A/N: Hey, it's me again. I had a little bout of writer's block, so I had to plow through it and do whatever I could, so sorry if it's a bit. . .iffy. Or whatever. Anyways, thanks to anyone who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story! You guys keep me going!

Red