A few days later, I clutch a strip of ripped-off note paper in my hand and count my steps. As much as I would like to avoid this meeting and flee for a quick nap, I can't.

My heels clip the floors, bouncing off the walls and creating sound in the long and lonely hallways, giving me little relief for what is to come. Even so, I bite my lip and knock sharply on the door.

Amar opens it, not a single creak stirring. He smiles at me and bows. "Your majesty," he says warmly. "How are you feeling?"

When Amar motions for me to come in, I do. As he closes the door I smile nervously. "Not so good," I admit. And it's true. As much as I love Tobias, my stomach is killing me and I was so tired I barely made it here.

Amar reaches his hand out, as if to comfort me with a hand to my shoulder, but reconsiders and pulls it back, scratching the back of his neck.

I follow him into KIng Marcus' study. The king does not look up from his work immediately after Amar introduces me, so Amar motions for me to sit down and rushes off to go get some tea and pastries.

It's a beautiful room, is the first thing that comes to mind, as I sit down in the mahogany chair opposite the bookshelves and rest my forearms on the velvet-covered arms of the chair. This must be the palace library; King Marcus sits with a posture as proud as a peacock, with his forearms laying in an upwards position onto the only desk I see in the room. His fingers move swiftly against typewriter keys, piercing the air so sharply I'm afraid that it's going to puncture the karma in the room and his attention so precise I dare to wonder what will happen if he makes a mistake.

But he won't, I just know it.

The desk King Marcus sits at is in the center of the room, and mahogany bookshelves, stuffed to the brim, are placed up against three of the walls. An oriental style rug, which at a best guess I assume was a gift, covers the entire floor perfectly, aside from a little catch where it is rippled together to make room for a granite-surrounded fireplace. Two velvet arm chairs sit in front of the fireplace, as if watching the cold ashes dance in the breeze. A small, rectangular window is open, breathing air into the room, muted only by a thin forest green curtain.

My eyes dart to King Marcus when he stops typing. I watch as he holds a candle flame to a piece of wax and count the drips he waits until stamping down on it with a piece of silver. Finally, he pushes the letter and typewriter forward before leaning his elbows on the table and scooting in just a hair.

"Ah," he says. "Forgive me, Beatrice, for the wait."

I smile at him. "You wished to see me?"

His jaw tightens, as if he needs to put on an act for me. "Yes, yes I did." He slouches briefly, and someone knocks on the door. "Come in," King Marcus says in a taut voice.

Amar hustles in, his head low. He sets a silver platter filled with a teapot, along with its accessories, and pastries that even from here smell of fresh dough and berries.

King Marcus smiles at Amar, before shooing him away with the wave of a hand. On his way out, Amar looks at me pitifully, with a small smile plastered across his face.

I bite my lip in confusion. Why am I here?

Then King Marcus clears his throat. It's not at all awkward like when I do, but more regal than anything else. "Congratulations."

I look up. "Come again?"

"I heard you were with child." The words roll off his tongue like he's been waiting a year to say them. Then again, he probably has.

"Oh," I say softly. "Thank you."

"I'm not here to discuss personal matters," King Marcus says, ignoring me and moving on. "Your affairs with my son are none of my business."

I straighten my posture.

He continues. "I called you here to discuss the throne." He scoots into his seat and glances over me briefly, staring just a hair too long, I think, at my stomach. King Marcus adjusts his tie and looks me in the eye. "Boys," he starts, "Do better royalty-wise in Eaton. I think that you will find that during your time here, so I politely request that if you find that the child inside your room in feminine, you and Tobias, er, start over and have another child."

I gape at him. "You're saying that if this child is not a boy, you want me to have an abortion and kill it?"

He smiles slightly. "Essentially, yes."

And as if it's possible, my mouth opens even wider. I stand up abruptly. "I'm sorry, but no," I say. "I will not kill an unborn child just so you can get your perfect heir. And just for the record, I have a feeling that this one's going to be a girl." I glare at him once more before stomping as unladylike as these heels let me out of his office.

I think I hear him sigh dramatically, over the clomping of my feet on the patterned carpet.

On my way out, Amar stands up. He bows to me. "Anything else I can do for you, madame?"

I shake my head. "That will be all," I say sternly.

Amar smiles. "That was fabulous what you did back there," he whispers. "You will make an excellent queen."
I blush slightly. "You think so?"

He nods, just as King Marcus calls him.

I walk into the hallways, suddenly feeling excruciatingly tired. I stop halfway back to my room and place a shaky hand on the wall, slouching the rest of my body up to it. I feel as if I am panting as hard as a sweaty dog on a hot day. My eyelids waver and I barely make it to my room.

"Hey," Tobias says, as I walk in. He catches me in his arms as I yawn.

"Just tired," I mumble slowly.

Tobias feels my forehead. In one fell swoop, he picks me up and carries me to the bed as if I am merely a little ball. "Stress," he says, "Is not good for you."

"How did you know where I was?" I ask.

"Amar came by," my husband tells me. "It was duly noted by all of the staff that my father would have skinned you alive if you weren't pregnant by now."

"We haven't even been married three weeks!" I nearly exclaim. I press a cold hand to my hot face. "I feel like a disgrace."

"Hey now," Tobias whispers. "Calm down. It's going to be alright."

"I certainly hope so," I say, as I let my head fall onto the pillows. "But something worse happened. You father basically told me that if this baby, inside of me that is, is not a boy, we should start all over and try for a boy."

Tobias' face seathes. "He did not," he says.

"He did."

Tobias lays down next to me, propping his head up with an elbow so he's turned toward me. "And what did you say?"

"I told him no," I say, in a matter-of-factly way. And with that, I decide to take a nap.


That night at dinner, no one can stop talking about Zeke and Shauna's engagement. As much as I would love to sit by my maids and talk about someone else for once, I know it is inappropriate to be seen with them at the dinner table. They don't even sit at the same one I do.

Fortunately, Tobias makes up for it by giving me a back rub while we wait to be served. King Marcus comes rushing in a minute later and I awake from my love-and-ecstasy daze to find him looking at me harshly.

I smile back kindly.

He rolls his eyes, and takes a sip of wine from his jeweled goblet.

"Father," Tobias says, breaking the unnerving silence in the room. "Don't you think your means are a bit unrational?"

"Is that what the princess told you?" the king fires back.

"What she told me is true," Tobias says. "It sounded as crazy as you always do."

"Don't you dare speak to your father that way!" King Marcus shouts.

An unpleasant feeling fills my stomach. "I think I'm going to head up to my room now," I say waverly.

Tobias turns to me and clutches my hand. "Don't," he says gently. "You need to eat."

"I'll ask for some maids to bring some soup up to my room," I say quietly. "But for now, I think it's best if I leave."

Tobias nods in understanding and I glare at King Marcus on my way out. I take the stairs slowly, wondering for a brief moment if Tobias was abused as a child. I wouldn't put it past King Marcus, and Tobias is strong enough to hide it from the general public.

When I make it up to our room, I collapse on the bed. I ring a bell and Marlene comes out, wiping her hands on her apron.

"So sorry to interrupt, but could you bring me some soup please?"

Marlene nods. "French onion is on the menu tonight. Is that fine?"

I nod, "That will be all, thank you."

When she leaves, I figure I have at least ten minutes to myself. I get up off the bed to stretch, and find myself in front of a mirror again.

"Hi baby," I start, not sure of what to say, or if it is even listening. "I'm your mama. You're gonna rule this land someday, like your father and I did." I rub a hand over my stomach, and leave it there for a minute. "No matter what overcomes you, I know that you will achieve great things."

I slouch back onto the bed and stare at the room. It does look like a more masculine version of my old room. And as traditional as it is for us to move into the King and Queen's Suite that King Marcus currently employs, I have a feeling that Tobias and I won't be moving for a while.

A firm knock on the door pierces the silence and Marlene walks in with a tray.

"Thank you," I say.

She nods. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," I say. "Just tired. How much longer will this last again?"

My maid laughs. I love Marlene like a sister, I really do. She's so carefree and loving, as gentle as a fawn too. "You've barely started, miss."

I groan playfully and Marlene giggles again. She sets the tray in her hands down on the table and wipes her hands on her apron again. "I should be leaving," she says. "Have fun tonight." She adds the last part with a wink and leaves me blushing.

As much as Tobias would be mad, I do not touch the soup. I'm not very hungry, and besides, there's another knock at the door.

I get up to answer it this time, hopeful that it is Tobias. And it is. I usher him in quickly, questions racing through my mind. But before I say anything, I pause to take a look at him. Fear is encrusted all over his face and his shirt is untucked, the buttons through their wrong holes.

"Did he beat you?" I ask.

Tobias doesn't say anything.

I pull him closer to me. "Answer me," I say shakily. "Did he beat you?"

Tobias hugs me tight. "How'd you know?" he asks through a whisper.

"Deep down somewhere," I say. "I knew. I just knew."

There's a pause between us. Tobias burrows my face in his chest. He smells faintly of soap, sawdust, and metal, a fairly masculine smell. I love it.

He moves down to kiss me, and I let him. "It's going to be alright," I say, when we break apart. "We'll convict him of the crime, and...and…"

Tobias kisses me again, this time to silence me. "Oh, Tris," he whispers. "It would be pointless. My father always wins."


{Author's Note}

GUYS 5 SECONDS OF SUMMER IS COMING TO THE US NEXT YEAR *squeals* I think I'm in love...

Onto a more rational topic...I really liked writing this chapter and I hope y'all enjoy it (: I'll update at 115 reviews

I love you all! Thanks for reading! It really means a lot to me (: Have a great day and DFTBA (Oh, boy! It's supposed to be 95 degrees where I am today...)

-Lola Prior