REPLY TO Guest mih: Yeah, but the people editing the Report would cut it out, or maybe the King does a hand signal to the cameraguy or something. Idk lol since they didn't address it in the Elite.


"What is the meaning of this?" The King yells at his son, fury burning in his eyes. "Calling off the Selection? For a maid? Are you stupid?"

"Father, ple-"

"Shut up!" the King snaps, not wanting his questions to actually be answered. "Did you honestly think you'd get away with this? That you could simply pick some filthy Five and crown her princess? I thought you were smarter than that, Maxon," he snarls, grabbing Maxon by the shoulders and shoving him. Amberly steadies him, placing gentle hands on his back.

"And you!" he turns towards me, stepping closer with each word. I can't help but cower against the wall. "You thought you could manipulate my son into giving you the crown? How could you even think that's possible? You're a maid, Ms. Singer. Nothing more than a worthless, idiotic Five with a meaningless crush on my son. I should have you killed for this. Imprisoned, in the least. Conspiring to steal the crown is a lethal crime; I wouldn't hesitate to accuse you of such!"

"Clarkson, please," Amberly protests, trying to save me. But it's too late. There's no taming the flames in his eyes. There's no calming the tears in mine. "She was not conspiring; she loves your son, our son. Just listen to them wo-"

"Don't you dare try to defend them," he growls, his face inches away from hers. He looks as if he's about to rip her head off. "How could you help them with this? I know you did it, Amberly, I saw the way you were watching him. You knew the whole time and you didn't try to stop this? I didn't know you were that foolish." Amberly's face remains stoic and calm, just like a Queen's must be. I don't know how she does that.

"You're being foolish, Clarkson," she counters, not even twitching.

His eyes fill with horror and the next thing I know, Amberly is clutching her cheek, which is now bright scarlet. He slapped her. His own wife, the Queen. But she doesn't even make a noise. She just receives the blow with dignity, only a slight tear escaping.

Maxon, however, isn't so calm. He races forward to protect his mother, and gawks at the horrific splotch covering her cheek. He reels back and charges at his father, his fists closed so tight I'm worried they're going to shatter.

But the King is much stronger. He catches Maxon's fist in the palm of his hand, and quickly flips him onto the floor. Maxon groans and I move to help him up, but the King blocks my path. "Not so fast, Ms. Singer."

"I just want to help him!" I sob, fighting to get past. But the King's grip is too strong; there's no point in fighting.

"He'll be fine. You're the one who's going to need help," he says menacingly. The horrible images of Maxon's back flash through my mind and I hesitate before countering. I have to stay strong. For Maxon.

"You can do whatever you want with me, just let me help him, please!" I look to see Maxon clutching his wrist - probably broken - against his chest. There's a large stream of blood coming from his forehead, where he must have cracked his head. Amberly is trying to help him, but she doesn't seem to know the first thing about first-aid. But I do. I could help him, if the King would just let me pass.

"Don't pretend that you're that altruistic, America. We all know you're just in this for the fame."

"That's not true!" I cry. "I love Maxon and right now he's hurt. So let me help him and I'm all yours. I promise," I plead.

"America, no," Maxon moans, though his voice is weak and strained. "I'm . . . f- fine," he stutters, opposing his claim.

"All mine? Quite a tempting ultimatum, isn't it," the King muses.

Amberly, giving up in her attempts to help her son, steps behind the King, trying to calm him. Her cheek is still fiery red and I know that there will be a nasty bruise there within hours. "Clarkson, stop this madness!" she says, cupping his face in his hands, turning him away from me. Despite her pain and panic, she's managed to stay strategic right now - the only chance she has at winning this battle is his love for her. "This is your son's true love you're threatening. I know you don't believe it, but Maxon loves this girl with all his heart. You can see it so clearly in his eyes if you'd just look. And America, too. She's not just some maid, but a beautiful young girl with the power to rule this country. I know it, Clarkson. Just look at her. Look at them."

And he does.

He studies his son, now sitting upright on the floor, still hugging his twisted arm. Blood drips down his face, but he doesn't seem to care. He's watching his father with those pleading, doe eyes. There's not a hint of remorse in the King's glare.

And then he turns to me, finally looking at me as a girl rather than an animal. His eyes glance over me and finally settle on my splotchy, worried eyes. He holds my gaze a moment longer before turning to Amberly. She gives a small nod and they communicate almost telepathically, though I don't know what they're saying. But there's definitely some sort of silent exchange.

"Amberly, take Maxon to the doctor and make sure that his wrist is all right. And have him check out your cheek," the King says monotonously. Amberly helps her son up and moves to leave, but Maxon holds his ground.

"I'm not leaving her here with you," he says, making his father turn to look him in the eyes. "I'm not that stupid, Father."

"I won't hurt her, I promise," the King says. And it seems as if he's telling the truth; there's no menace, no sarcasm, no threat in his voice. How can that be?

"Like hell you won't," Maxon counters. Amberly holds him back, as it looks like he's about to charge again. He'd only break his other wrist. "Say what you have to in front of me."

It's silent for a moment as father and son stare at each other, neither one of them daring to look away. Still holding his gaze, the King whispers, ever so slightly, "You really love her?"

"With everything I am," Maxon replies, his eyes flickering towards me for only a moment. I can't help but blush.

Silence as the King takes this in. Amberly's holding Maxon's should so tightly I'm worried it'll snap as well. Her eyes are full of love and worry, though for whom, I'm not sure. How such a kind woman ended up with such a horrible man, I'll never know.

"Amberly, again, please escort Maxon to the doctor's. America, return to your chambers. You are not to leave until a guard calls for you, do you understand?"

I nod my head, too shocked to speak. And with that, the King exits, leaving us all unsure.

"What just happened?" I ask after a moment, looking to Maxon.

With a deep, painful breath, he meets my gaze. "I have no idea."