Chapter Eleven

"Chase is in bed now." I informed Maxon sometime after dinner. The baby had only been asleep for maybe ten minutes after our walk, and had been awake from then until dinner. I was glad to have a break, now, and I was planning on heading to my room to relax and maybe read when I went to inform Maxon that his son was asleep.

He was hunched over his desk, scribbling rapidly on a piece of paper. He jolted at the sound of my voice. "What?" Looking up, his eyes cleared. "Oh, thank you." He said politely.

I gestured to his desk. "What're you doing?" I asked curiously. "You don't actually have to work, do you?" I asked incredulously when Maxon glared unhappily at the papers, which I now noticed were stamped with some kind of fancy emblem.

"Yeah, I actually do." He said, attempting to smile, but his face was tired. He rubbed his eyes, brushing his hand through his blonde locks.

"But it's vacation!" I exclaimed, and the corner of his mouth tugged up at my passionate indignant-ness on his behalf. "Can't... Can't Veronikka or someone else do it? It's- your vacation!" I had been about to say 'our vacation', but I corrected myself quickly.

"I know," Maxon sighed. "But… well, they're already busy." He looked guiltily at me, and then doubtfully glanced to his paperwork. "My advisors work really hard, and it's not that much work…"

I shook my head, but nonetheless had to smile. Right now I could see the loyal Maxon, independent. He didn't like people having to do stuff for him, and right now it showed. But it was his vacation, for goodness sake! I had to convince him to stop working. He needed to take a break.

"You know, you're going to work yourself to death." I held out my hand with a small smile. An idea had struck me. There went my plans for a relaxing night in my bed reading. "Have you ever had a Make-Your-Own sundae before?"

He stared at my hand, then at my grinning face. "Have I… what?" He stared at me, bewildered.

"A Make-Your-Own Sundae." I repeated. "I hadn't heard of it since this past year, but my friends love it, and one of the head cooks has a thing for Chelsey, so…" I shrugged, grinning slyly. "When I was feeling down those first few weeks after I was shot," Maxon winced slightly at the memory of my horrible wound, though I didn't know why. I was the one who had been hurt, after all. "-they'd take me to get ice cream."

Maxon stared at me doubtfully. "Well, I suppose it can't hurt to take a small break." He glanced at his papers. "It will be small, right?" He asked, but I knew he had made up his mind.

After I nodded in confirmation, my hand still outstretched, he reached out and grabbed my hand securely, standing up next to me.

I started walking out of the room towards the kitchen, keeping tight hold of Maxon's hands. I knew I could have let go, but I didn't really want to. His hands were warm and larger than mine - obviously - and I felt safe and secure while holding them. Or, rather, his hands holding mine. Maxon didn't let go either, though, so I took that as a sign that he was fine with it.

"So," I tried to shake my head clear of thoughts of holding his hand. "First we look in the fridge and get whatever we think we would be good on ice cream sundaes." Unfortunately, I had to let go of his hand to open the fridge and get some stuff out of it.

"Doesn't Pierre need some of this food? Y'know, to make our meals?" Maxon asked from behind me.

I waved a reassuring hand as I reached into the freezer. "It's fine. Mary-Kris was planning on heading to town tomorrow morning for shopping, so she can get some stuff then." Luckily, there was ice cream (otherwise my whole plan would've been a complete fail) and there was even a small carton of strawberry, my new favorite from my late night trips to the kitchen with my friends at the Palace.

After taking out the strawberry and vanilla ice cream, I opened the fridge and took out a lot of different stuff. Luckily, it was stocked with a tons of yummy foods that could be used for toppings; fruit, chocolate, nuts, whipped cream… I found some gummy bears in the cupboard, and quickly grabbed a couple red ones and bit their delicious heads off (sorry, did that sound creepy?) before taking out the whole container.

Maxon stood to one side, watching as I collected everything. I got bowls and spoons, and then collected everything on a worn wooden table in the middle of the room.

The rest of the house was dark, with the kitchen light the only one on. The environment already made me feel excited. I brushed a crumb from the top of the table. It was an old wooden farm table, and the warm glow of the lightbulb above lit up our area perfectly.

I gestured Maxon over to the table. "Okay." I grinned. "First, you choose your ice cream." I held up the carton of strawberry, and he picked up vanilla. "Alright." he told me.

"So you scoop however much you want." While I scooped my strawberry ice cream, he scooped his. We both scooped a lot, filling the bowls well.

"Now we put on toppings." I told him with a smile.

He looked at me, slightly confused. "So, um, no one's choosing for us?" He looked surprised.

"Nope." I smiled. "It's all you."

Maxon's eyes lit up. "Wow. I never really made what I want before."

"So they choose for you?"

"Well, the chefs know what I like, but yes, they basically choose for me." I cocked my head to the side thoughtfully. I like making my own decisions, so I don't think I would like other people making them for me, even if they knew what I liked.

I shrugged, grabbing a couple gummy bears to put in my bowl. Then I stuffed a couple in my mouth too. "Okay. Well, do you know what you want?"

He stared at my assortment of toppings on the table with wide eyes. "Uh… everything?"

I laughed. "Sure, you can have everything." He grinned. I continued, "Go ahead."

The two of us got to work, sprinklings toppings here, dumping stuff there, tasting what we thought would go well together... Finally, we had big piles of ice cream with a lot of toppings.

"... Wait." I frowned as we stepped back from our work. I peered at our ice cream. "There's something missing…"

"What?" Maxon asked.

I crossed my arms for a second, thinking. "... Oh! Whipped cream!"

I looked around the counter. I thought I had pulled it out of the fridge before, but now I couldn't find it. I found it again quickly, behind me next to the fridge. I picked it up, handing it to Maxon. He stared at it for a second.

"It's whipped cream." I told him.

He smirked. "I know it's whipped cream," he told me with a small smile. "I just... don't really know how to use it," He said sheepishly.

I took the can and adjusted his hand on it. Where our hands touched, electric signals shot up my body, but I tried to ignore them. I placed his finger on the nozzle. It tingled where our skin touched, but I was pretty sure my hand hadn't fallen asleep. "You just push there."

"Oh, okay." Before I could see what was happening, Maxon moved the can in front of my face, pointing it at me, and that's the last thing I saw before a sheet of white covered my eyes.

I squeaked. My face was covered in whipped cream. I licked my lips. "Maxon!"

He just laughed at me. I tried to glare at him as I wiped the whipped cream from my face, but we both knew I wasn't really angry. "Sorry. I thought you told me to have fun, America." He told me innocently, trying to hide a smile. He used his thumb to wipe away some of the white fluffy cloud-like cream.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him as I grabbed a napkin. "You already knew how to use a whipped cream can, didn't you?" I realized.

He shrugged, grabbing a napkin to help me wipe my face. "Maybe I did." He smiled. "But you can't say I'm too stiff anymore."

I rolled my eyes, grinning. When I blinked, my eyelashes were a little sticky. "I'm going to go clean up." I told him.

He looked at me hopefully as I started to head to the bathroom. "So you're not mad?"

I laughed. "Maxon, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't've done that if you thought I would get mad."

Maxon shrugged again. "Guilty."

In the bathroom, I washed the whipped cream from my face, peering at myself in the mirror. My cheeks were blushed slightly, probably from excitement, and my eyes were shining. My hair was up, but I pulled it out of its ponytail and let it hung loose. After drying my face off, I headed back into the kitchen.

Maxon was waiting for me patiently, eyeing the ice cream eagerly. I nearly laughed when I saw him with his spoon ready.

"Can we eat now?" He asked as I sat down.

I nodded. "Let's eat!"

"That. Was the best thing. I ever. Tasted."

Many minutes later, Maxon and I sat at the table in the dining room. He had just finished his huge mountain of ice cream. I meanwhile, was still working on mine, but I was almost done.

I laughed. "You sure? The Palace food is delicious." I licked my spoon, smiling. "But isn't it 'I've ever tasted,' Mister Grammar?" I teased. Maxon grinned, rolling his eyes. He leaned back in his chair.

"You do know that king's aren't perfect, right?" He asked.

I mock gasped, scooping a spoonful of sugary goodness into my eager mouth. Swallowing, I smiled. "Of course I know. Are you the exception, then?"

Maxon winked, chuckling softly. "Why, of course. I just wanted to make sure you kept that in mind so you'll know that not all kings are as perfect as I am."

I nodded. "Ah, yes, I will certainly keep that in mind the many future times I will meet multiple princes." Chuckling to ourselves, we sat in silence as I continued eating.

The entire time, his eyes were on me, smiling slightly in a way that made me feel both confident and self-conscious at the same time… if that makes any sense at all. "Aren't you glad that I convinced you to come down with me?" I asked cheerfully, breaking the silence. I licked my spoon.

He laughed shortly. "Am I ever." Maxon's eyes traveled back to mine, and we settled back into silence.

He cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. "Do you think Pierre will get mad if I raid the fridge and get more ice cream?" He asked hopefully.

I laughed, waving my spoon at him reproachfully. "Maxon, if you eat one more bite of ice cream I don't think you'll be able to sleep at all tonight." This was true. Unlike an hour earlier, Maxon didn't look exhausted at all. His eyes were bright, posture happy, and his smile contagious. I couldn't help but grin at the sight of him.

He raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, never mind." He paused, looking to the fridge longingly. "But it was so good!"

I rolled my eyes with a smile. "I know, that's why I thought it'd be fun to do."

"Could we do it tomorrow night?" Maxon asked eagerly.

I shrugged. "I guess."

"Every night?" He pushed.

"We only have two more nights here before we leave, Maxon," I reminded him.

His shoulders slumped slightly. "Oh, right. Well, we can still eat it anyway. For the next two nights at least. And if I ever get down about my work after we return to the Palace, I'll just call you up." He grinned. "We can eat as much as ice cream as we want!"

I laughed. "If you call me up every time you have a lot of work, we'll never stop eating ice cream!" I told him, grinning. "And then I'll get fat!" I complained.

"Oh, no, we wouldn't want that!"

I rolled my eyes again. "I know that sounded self-conscious and everything, but really. You have so much work, and so do I. I think this'll be a one-time thing..." Maxon pouted. "… Okay, maybe two-time thing," I relented and Maxon smiled.

Maxon put a hand over his heart. "Well then I'll cherish our short time here forever."

I laughed. "Thanks so very much." I scooped another bite. "You're acting really childish right now…" Maxon looked at me curiously. "I mean, the good way. Y'know carefree, happy, and stuff." I shrugged slightly awkwardly, smiling.

"That's good, right?"

"It's great." I smiled. "But you deserve more time off, I think." I leaned forward. "You didn't do much of this kind of thing when you were younger, did you?"

Maxon smiled sadly. "I didn't really do this kind of thing ever." He leaned back in his chair. "I would do more fun stuff if I could, but I do have responsibilities. You know, leading our country." I smiled. I liked the way he said 'leading our country' and not 'ruling our country.' It showed what he thought about his job; he didn't think it was a monarchy. He was the head of the country, but he didn't believe he was better than anyone else.

I stared at my little bit of ice cream left in my bowl, and then looked at Maxon. He was staring at my bowl too, and I could see the longing in Maxon's eyes, even in he didn't say anything.

I laughed. "Want it?" I slid it across the table. He stared at it for a minute, speechless. I realized it may be odd that I offered my already mostly-eaten ice cream. My cheeks heated up. "I mean, you don't have to." Back in my house, no one ever wanted to share their portion, since the food was sometimes scarce, but if we were willing to share we'd always just pass it around. I hoped I hadn't offended him someway.

Maxon looked up with and eager smile. "Oh, I want it." Relief replaced my slight embarrassment, and I smiled shyly back. "But I didn't believe you wanted to share," he winked at me. "You were eating that ice cream pretty savagely before."

I rolled my eyes. "You finished before me."

"Doesn't mean you weren't savage." He growled jokingly at me, baring his hands to look like claws. The two of us burst into laughter.

"We're acting like little children," I said amusedly as our laughter faded. But a smile stayed on my face.

"I think that's good for us." He responded. Maxon's lip quirked up slightly, and he grabbed his spoon, holding it over my bowl. "May I?"

I nodded. He took a bite eagerly, and I smiled. He looked up at me with a curious expression on his face, and after swallowing, opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, though, a cry came from upstairs.

I looked up at the ceiling above with a sigh. "Chase is awake," I stated the obvious. Reluctantly, I stood up. My chair squeaked slightly, and Chase cried again, this time louder.

"Good night. See you in the morning." Maxon told me, waving his spoon playfully. Prince Chase cried for a third time, but this one lasted longer. I felt exasperation for the young boy, even if he was a baby. Couldn't he have given me a minute?

I ducked my head down slightly, suddenly shy, and smiled. "Good night, Maxon."

Maxon had promised me a trip to the beach on Saturday. To my delight, he didn't disappoint (not that I had thought he would). At breakfast, while I was feeding Chase, Maxon asked Pierre to pack us a simple lunch to have on the beach. Then he asked me to get Chase and myself ready.

About an hour later, after Chase was fed and changed and I had gotten myself ready, I waited by the door in my modest one-piece swimsuit. I wore a pair of shorts over it, and Chase too was ready with his small little swim trunks and swim shirt.

I felt excitement in the air as I waited for Maxon on the porch. Today was the perfect day, it seemed. The sun was bright, the ocean was peaceful and glittering, and the sand looked very soft.

Chase babbled something next to me, tugging on my hair. I looked at him with a giggle. "Are you excited, my Prince?" I teased him with a smile. The wind blew my red hair in front of his face, and I laughed as he reached out to grab the bright strand.

The door opened from behind me. I turned to greet Maxon, but my mouth made no sound as I stared at him in shock. He only wore his swim trunks and an unbuttoned short sleeved shirt. I had clear view of his chest and stomach. I blushed, heat burning my face, but I couldn't help but admire. For a man in his late twenties, he looked quite, well, good. Attractive, I guess. I avoided my eyes, peering up at him through my lashes.

Then I realized that he was staring at me too. His eyes took in my swimsuit and short shorts that I had managed to convince Chelsey to let me bring. I swallowed, self-conscious. Neither of us said a word, but then Maxon met my eyes, smiling kindly.

"Are you ready for the best day of your life, Miss Singer?" He teased. I blushed more, letting out a breath of relief. I smiled back. My gaze flickered to his toned muscular arms and torso before back to his eyes.

"Of course!" I hope he didn't notice the slight quiver in my voice, despite my large grin.

"To the Beach!" he told me enthusiastically. It was almost as if we hadn't been checking each other out the second before.

I giggled, and Chase exclaimed something random, mimicking his father. I laughed harder as Maxon ran off the porch and towards the shore. He tripped on the sand, exclaiming, "Ow! Hot! Hot!" And I followed after him, holding Chase in my arms.

The rest of the day was filled with laughter, fun, and a lot of splashing in the ocean. I managed to convince Maxon to let me bury him in the sand. Seeing his head sticking up out of the pile of sand was too much for me. I burst into uncontrollable laughter, falling back on the sand. I suppose the sight was rather funny, because Maxon couldn't help but chuckle too. Even Chase giggled.

We ate lunch together, gourmet sandwiches. A seagull flew in circles around us, and I giggled at the suspicious way Maxon looked at it as he held his sandwich close to his body.

After lunch, Chase was getting pretty tired, and so I had to take him back. But I would never forget my fun day at the Beach with royalty.

And of course, Maxon held up on his other pledge to have ice cream that night again. Later that evening, he was waiting for me expectantly. But, I couldn't complain. I was happy. Maybe slightly ignorant, but I was still happy. I was having fun. Enjoying myself.

And I definitely didn't know that I was falling slowly but surely in love.

Sunday morning, I woke up later than usual. I could tell it was later by how much sun was streaming in through the window. I didn't know where I was. For a moment, panic seized me. Where was Chase? Where was I?

Once I gained my bearings, and my head cleared a little bit, I looked over to the bed across from mine. Empty. I frowned. Where was Mary-Kris?

Suddenly worried, I got up and headed to Chase's room. I started to feel a growing panic in the pit of my stomach when he wasn't in his crib.

I raced downstairs quickly, my feet barely touching the cool floor. I arrived in the kitchen, wide-eyed and worried. I breathed a sigh of relief as I did a head-count of who was at the breakfast table.

Maxon looked up with a smile as I came in. "Ah, our Sleeping Beauty has awakened." His eye twinkled with humour. I smiled slightly at his teasing jab.

Mary-Kris giggled. Chase was in her lap, babbling playfully. "Miss Singer," She greeted with a slight smirk. "I see you were quite rushed to get down here?"

She was staring at my clothes. I looked down, with a frown, and then felt my cheeks heat up. I was still in my pajamas. My short, thin pajamas that I had worn last night because I had felt really warm. I swallowed. I could feel Maxon's eyes on me. I glared at him. "Oh, stop staring." I snapped, embarrassed. My pajamas were quite revealing, with extremely short shorts and a spaghetti-strapped tank top. I regretted not grabbing a jacket on my way downstairs.

Maxon just chuckled, and even Mary-Kris couldn't hide a giggle.

"Why didn't anyone wake me up?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

Mary-Kris shrugged. "You looked exhausted. And Chase was in a good mood." She pushed a plate in my direction. "Here's breakfast."

While the food looked delicious, I couldn't eat. I needed to change. "Let me get ready. I'll eat in a minute." I raced back upstairs, both Maxon and Mary-Krislooking amusedly after me. When I had finished changing and everything, I went back downstairs, where my food was still waiting.

Maxon told me what we were doing today as I started to eat. Not that we were doing much. "I think today will just be a relaxation day," he told me idly. "You can do whatever you want. With limitations, of course," he added.

I rolled my eyes with a smile. "Aw, really? Limitations? I was hoping I could ditch my nanny duties and go buy a motorcycle to go ride off a cliff." For a second, Maxon looked surprised, but then he laughed, shaking his head.

"I was hoping you could play another instrument for me?" He asked hopefully. I was surprised, but I listened as he continued. "I found this pretty violin in my room. Can you play? I know you're wonderful at piano."

I grinned at his compliment, and accepted Chase as Mary-Kris brought him over to me as she went to help Pierre with the dishes. "I can play, but I can't guarantee you'll enjoy it."

Maxon waved a hand. "Nonsense." He smiled. "I look forward to your performance."

Mary-Kris came over, picking up my plate. "Oh, I love the violin! Can I listen too?" I nodded, but her eyes widened as she blushed. Her eyes flicked to Maxon. "I mean, if you'll allow it, my king," she added.

Maxon smiled. "Of course you may listen." Mary-Kris smiled hesitantly, and I was confused at her shy state. Soon, though, her weird episode left my memory as I started to play with Chase with Maxon. I was content.

I wasn't able to play for Maxon, Mary-Kris, and Pierre (who also wanted to come to my little recital when he learned of it) until the afternoon. Chase got tired and grumpy, and so I had to put him to a nap. Then we had lunch, but finally we had time that afternoon.

Maxon brought the violin down from his room, and we all sat in the living room. The room was large and open. Leading to the kitchen with a wide open doorway. Its ocean-inspired decoration was soothing, helping me to calm my growing nerves.

After tuning the violin, I played a short piece I'd learned many years ago. It was reasonably easy, and I had memorized it, so it was a good choice for me. I wasn't nearly as good on the violin than I was on the piano, but I was okay. Once I was done, though, it seemed that my audience had thought me more than okay. They gave me a loud applause, with Maxon whooping and whistling like the playful boy he is. I couldn't help but laugh.

They asked for an encore, and I complied. The rest of the afternoon was filled with me playing pieces from my childhood, short melodies of sweet notes that I luckily remembered. My audience enjoyed it tremendously - at least they seemed like they did - and I enjoyed playing. It was nice to perform again. I hadn't done it in a long while. I knew it wasn't that big of a deal, but it felt good to lose myself in the music, letting myself get enveloped in the sweet sounds and notes.

And of course I enjoyed seeing Maxon beam and cheer for me after every song. Yes, I really did like his smile.

We had a delicious dinner, courtesy of Pierre, later that evening. Everyone was especially happy, even though we were all a bit sad that we were heading back to the Palace. Pierre and Mary-Kris stayed all through dinner, and we talked with no barriers. I think we were all trying to fit more memories into this trip. We wanted to spend our last times of our trip together, having fun.

That night, though, Prince Chase just would not go to sleep. I tried singing, rocking, feeding, and a variety of other ways that usually helped babies close their little eyes and fall asleep, but nothing worked! Mary-Kris even tried holding him awhile, just to see if maybe the prince would fall asleep with a different person, but no luck. He would cry even more if I even adjusted him slightly in my arms.

Maxon, of course, heard his crying, and so did Pierre, but Mary-Kris would quickly ask them to leave as to not disturb the baby. Pierre, after one time, did not dare come back again, probably because he knew of sweet mary-Kris's hidden fiery temper. But Maxon, on the other hand, seemed overly concerned. I would hear Mary-Kris would assure him that everything was fine, and that we were handling it. But the king would keep coming back. Eventually, after maybe his fifth time, Mary-Kris had to usher him out herself, very nearly just yelling at him to go away. At the door, he caught my eyes. It was loud, with Chase crying and Mary-Kris urging him to leave, but I tried to tell him without words that, really, it was okay. He didn't come back anymore. I hoped he had understood my silent message.

The longer Chase kept screaming his head off, the more increasingly worried I became; for two completely different reasons. The more prominent thought I had was concern for Chase. The young boy was usually very well behaved, and I could usually get him to sleep easily. When he did have trouble sleeping, I could usually sing to him and he would fall asleep. But no matter what I did, the baby would keep crying. Obviously, I was worried. What was wrong with him? Was he in pain? Was he sick? But as far as I could tell, nothing was really wrong with him. His diaper was clean. He wasn't hungry. I didn't know what to do, and if I didn't get the Prince to sleep soon I would keep the whole house awake for the rest of the night.

While rocking and shushing and singing, a small part of me was also the tiniest bit disappointed. This had been the last night here. Maxon had told me he wanted to talk to me. I had been looking forward to this last night of ice-cream-fun, even though it was the last night. I knew it was unlikely we would be able to do this kind of thing again. But that was even more reason to regret having no time to go tonight.

By the time Chase started dozing off, it was around midnight. And by the time he was deep enough in sleep for me to put him in his bed, it was nearing one in the morning. After putting him down, I whispered goodnight and shut the door.

Mary-Kris was already in bed, and the rest of the house was eerily silent as I headed into my room. I felt a pit of disappointment growing in my stomach as I changed into more comfortable clothes for sleeping, and tried to be as quiet as I could when brushing my teeth. I knew there was no way Maxon was still waiting for me by now, if he ever was waiting. Who knew, maybe he had given up on the idea of a third night of ice cream when Mary-Kris had ushered him out of Chase's bedroom. Or maybe he had eaten ice cream by himself earlier, without me. Either way, I knew he was in bed.

When I was about to get into bed, I realized I was very thirsty… and hungry. Begrudgingly, I headed downstairs for some water and a small snack. I wasn't sleepy, exactly, but my feet were cold on the cool tile and I knew my bed was very warm…

"Oh, there you are."

I nearly screamed out loud at the unexpected voice. It was completely dark, I couldn't see anyone. "Who… Maxon?" I whispered out into the dark. A light clicked.

Maxon sat at the table, his hair squished to one side. He yawned and stretched. I smiled at the casual way he acted, even though the scene was kind of creepy. The rest of the house was dark, and the table was the only thing with light. I squinted at him, the light a little blinding. "I knew you would come down eventually," he told me cheerfully. "Are you ready for ice cream?"

I gaped at him. "Maxon, it's like, one a.m. Aren't you tired?"

"I would wait eternity to eat ice cream with you." He joked, but I secretly hoped it was true. "Plus," he added, "I won't be tired much longer once I get some sugar in me."

I almost laughed, because I thought it was probably true. Sighing, I sat down. "Well, I'm a little tired. I hope you don't mind if I don't talk much."

Maxon just seemed happy that I had chosen to sit down. "I'll do all the talking, don't worry." He grinned and stood up, going to the freezer. He opened the freezer and set two bowls on the table, sliding one to me.

I stared at it. It was strawberry ice cream, with all my favorite toppings; whipped cream, strawberries, bananas, chocolate… there was even a cherry on the top and exactly four gummy bears. I smiled at him, a little surprised. "Wow… Thank you."

Maxon shrugged. He, too, had a bowl of ice cream with his favorite toppings. "Well, I assumed you'd be a little later than usual, so I made it for you…" His brow furrowed. "Did I forget anything?"

I shook my head, grabbing a spoon he offered me. "Oh, no, it's perfect." I was totally and completely surprised. Not only had Maxon waited for me, but he had remembered and made my favorite ice cream. I was pleasantly surprised, of course, and believed this to be a perfect end to a perfect weekend, even if it was one a.m. in the morning.

For a couple minutes, we ate in silence.

"Thank you. Again." I broke the silence, which was something I realized I rarely did.

He grinned at me. "You're welcome. I assume you're talking about the ice cream?"

I nodded, humming in confirmation. "It was very thoughtful of you to do so. I know this vacation has been pretty busy… aren't you even a bit tired?" I asked with a small smile as I scooped a bite of ice cream into my mouth.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe a bit." He smiled slightly, but his eyes were clouded.

I noticed for the first time, in fact, that the King didn't look very relaxed at all anymore. Now, his brows were furrowed in concentration… or was it worry? Anxiousness? It amazed me sometimes that the King of Illea would have his emotions plain to see when you were in private with him. On camera and in public events he had always been calm, cool, and collected, but I now knew that the King could be a very feeling man. His posture was stiffer than before.

"Er… is everything alright, Maxon?" I asked. "You haven't had more paperwork, have you?"

Maxon sighed. "Remember how I said I wanted to talk to you about something?" He ignored my questions. He avoided my eyes, staring instead at his ice cream. I sat up a little straighter. "I need some advice." He looked up at me then, his eyes sad and a little pleading. I couldn't say no.

With a nod from me, Maxon stood up. He gestured for me to follow him, and he told muttered quietly, "So we have more privacy… just in case."

Without a word, the two of us headed up to his room. I could feel the anticipation in the air. I was nervous. This was important, but I didn't know what he wanted to talk about with me.

"This has nothing to do with your job, of course," he told me with a sigh as I moved a chair closer to the bed, where he had sat. I tucked my skirt underneath me as I carefully sat down. "But I knew I could ask you about this because, well, I know you've had…" he paused. "Experience."

"In what, Maxon?" I asked softly. He looked hesitant, almost nervous to talk. I could tell this was a big deal. And while I felt honored that he thought I was worthy to talk to him about it, I was slightly confused on why.

Maxon paused. He looked deep in thought. When he opened his mouth to speak, he spoke deliberately, carefully, as he had probably been taught to do as a young child. "When Queen Kriss died, it was obviously very hard for me." He swallowed. "And it's still very hard for me, as I'd known it would be." He met my gaze, brown meeting blue. "I always remembered us meeting in the gardens," he told me softly. "You got mad at me, I know." He smiled slightly at my embarrassed expression. "But I remember you telling me about your husband. And then I talked about Queen Kriss… While it was slightly embarrassing when I cried, I felt much better afterwards." He smiled sadly at me. "So, since you've gotten through your spouse's death," Maxon swallowed. "I was wondering if you could help me… get through mine?"

For a moment I was left speechless. Clearing my throat, I looked at him again. "Of course, Your Majesty." It was all I could manage.

His lips quirked up. "Maxon," he corrected. "You've done it before, and after this talk I'm quite sure I'll be fine if you call me by my name. There's no more need for 'Your Majesty.'"

I nodded jerkily. Without realizing it, I had returned to addressing him as a King. "Okay, Maxon, what… what exactly are you having trouble to cope with."

He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up attractively… wait, no, not attractively. Just… nicely? I furrowed my brows at my thought process as Maxon spoke.

"Well, everything, really," he told me. "I miss her… so much." His voice broke, and I felt a piece of my heart break just at the sight of him. I realized, suddenly, that I was probably one of the few people who had seen Maxon without his cool mask of reason. Now, it was just him. Maxon Schreave. A man struggling with a lost love. Not very different from me, and that left me breathless for a moment. "It's hard with her not here," Maxon told me. "She'd always been my support. Without her… the pressure of being king is just so much… more."

"I felt the same way… well, similar, at least." I responded, twisting my small ring around my finger. It was simple, just a metal band with a heart engraved on it, but it was always with me. It kept Aspen with me. "Of course, I wasn't royalty, so there wasn't as much… expectations. I had more space to mourn." I looked at him curiously, still absentmindedly twisting my wedding ring. "Maxon," I paused as a thought occurred to me. "Did you ever have time to really mourn?"

Maxon cocked his head slightly to one side. "Well, in private, of course. I couldn't get too mad at anyone though, even when I was angry at nearly everyone."

"It's natural to be angry." I told him. "Just don't…" I hesitated. How did I explain what I wanted to say? "Don't try to to push anyone away. People… they want to help, it's just that sometimes they don't know how." I tried to put what I had learned into words. "The ones that do know how, though… you want to keep them close." I looked at him guiltily. "I didn't do that. I was so angry at everyone that I closed myself up. I built up walls that became nearly impossible to break down."

We sat in silence for a minute. "How old was your daughter when your husband died?" He asked.

I looked up, swallowing. "... Around one."

A second of silence. Then, "See, that's what I'm worried most about." Maxon told me anxiously after a pause. My comment had seemingly given him some confidence to tell me what was really bothering him. "Chase… he'll never know his mother. He'll never meet her, never remember her… she'll just be someone people tell him about it." His face was broken, sad. "That pain… I don't want my baby boy to experience that. And how am I supposed to take care of him?" Maxon's voice was aggravated, raised slightly. "The thing is, I can't. That's why I have to get a nanny. I don't want a nanny." He told me angrily. I was slightly taken aback. He shook himself. "I'm sorry," he apologized, his voice softened. "I don't mean that you aren't a good nanny, but I wish… I wish I could take care of him myself." His voice cracked, and he sagged in his chair. "I love him. I don't want him thinking I'm just some abandoning, distant father-like figure. I want to be his dad. I want him to love me too." He said. "And I want him to be happy."

I smiled sadly. "Most parents do." I told him softly. "But that's why there won't ever be a moment when he won't love you," I said confidently. "You care, Maxon, and that's what matters. Kriss may be gone, but that doesn't mean you can't love Chase. Even when you're busy, he'll know you love him." I paused. "Do you know how I know that he'll be aware of your love?"

Maxon looked up with, his eyes concerned. He said nothing.

"It's because I can see it, Maxon." I told him softly. "You love him, and if I can see it, I'm sure he can." I pursed my lips, trying to stop myself from crying. That's what May had told me. At least, something along those lines. I, too, had asked someone for help when I was still suffering after Aspen's death, and I remember what my little sister had told me. She saw my love, she could see that I wanted comfort but I hadn't known how to ask for it. So May had given me comfort, even though I hadn't asked. She had been there for me when I needed her, and I really missed her now.

Maxon's head ducked down, and he stared at his lap for a second. "... Thank you." He said finally. He looked up with a small smile. "You're rather good at this kind of thing."

I gave a small, melancholy little laugh. "Nothing teaches like experience," I said. I couldn't keep out the little bit of bitterness in my voice.

"About Kriss." Maxon started. I looked up. "How…" Maxon swallowed. "The people expect me to find a king. It's difficult for a king to rule without a queen, after all." He hesitated. "But… how am I supposed to find a new queen when I'm…" he took a ragged breath. "I'm not over my old one?" Before my eyes, Maxon's eyes filled with tears, and he slumped over with his head in his hands, broken. I teared up just looking at him. Quickly, I got out of my chair, I sat over next to him on his bed, putting my hand tentatively on his shoulder. For a moment, it reminded me of the night in the garden, when Maxon had broken down about his worry for Queen Kriss.

But this was entirely different. This time, Maxon and I were closer. He was one of my closest friends. I knew how he thought, what he thought, what he said, what he liked, what he loved. I knew him. And it hurt me to see him in pain. I wanted to wrap in my arms and comfort him. I wanted him to comfort me. I too needed to mourn. And Maxon would be able to comfort me. I knew he would be able to.

I sniffled, wiping my own tears from my eyes. But now was not the time for him to comfort me. Now was the time for me to help him. I owed him. I loved him. He was one of my best friends, now. He was almost my family.

My touch seemed to calm him, and he raised his head to look at me. For someone who had been crying, he still looked pretty put-together. But I could tell he was on the urge of a break-down. He blinked, trying to wipe his tears away.

I opened my arms wide, scooting closer. He collapsed into them, wrapping his arms around me. I sighed. His warmth enveloped me. We sat there for a moment, both of us sniffling, embraced and comforted by the other. I press my head into the crook of his neck.

"She loved you," I whispered. He took a ragged breath. "You love her." I sniffled. "She'd want you to be happy. If you really love her, and I know you do," I paused. "Try to be happy. I've learned that… we can't dwell on the past, Maxon. Our best hope is to look to the future." He pulled out of embrace, but only so he could lift up his head. His eyes stared into mine. The edges of my eyes were blurry, rimmed with tears, and the one thing that was clear was him. I knew he would always be there for me, so I swore to myself that I'd always be there for him. He attempted a smile.

In a hoarse voice, he only managed two words. But I could hear all the emotion behind them. "Thank you."

I could only manage a nod. Then I buried my face in his chest again, sighing in a relief. A huge weight was off my chest, and I hoped I had helped Maxon with an weight he bore. I didn't care that this was most likely inappropriate. I didn't care that I was wetting his shirt with my tears. I didn't care that tomorrow, everything we could go back to the way it was before; friends at the Palace. At that moment, all that mattered was me and him.

Two souls, meeting at the perfect time. Two souls, needing to heal. Two souls, finding comfort in each other.

Two clueless people falling in love without even knowing.

END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN

Was that too fluffy? Tell me in the reviews if that was too much, just the right amount, or TOTALLY overboard in terms of happy fluffy/angsty drama between America and Maxon.

By the way, telling me in the reviews requires you to actually REVIEW. If you didn't know. ;)

I hope you enjoyed this one!