"We're . . . you mean . . . ?" I'm at a loss for words, but the Queen seems to understand me. She nods excitedly and smiles at us.
"Congratulations. You're getting married!" the Queen practically squeals, something very out of character for her.
Maxon presses me against him and I'm encompassed by his warmth. I can almost feel the happiness radiating off of him, the joy so evident on his face. He smiles largely before pressing his lips to mine; I sink into the kiss, not caring that the Queen is there to watch. Nobody else matters right now. It's just me and Maxon.
And we're getting married.
"I . . I can't believe this!" I finally say, pulling away for a breath. The whole moment is rather breathtaking, not to mention the passionate kiss. The two combined really gave me a minor asthma attack. Or maybe slight hyperventilation. Either way, I'm having trouble getting enough ever. "The King's agreed? He's okay with it?"
"There's no way Father made a decision so soon. It's been hours," Maxon argued. He obviously wants this to be true, but he doesn't want to get his hopes up. If the King changes his mind . . .
"I know, but he knew how immediate the situation was. He's not exactly . . . okay with it. But he'll tolerate it. Though I do have to say, if it weren't for the public's adoration for you, America, you'd be in a cell right now," Amberly sighs. It's obvious from her tired expression that she's been arguing with the King for hours, persuading him and finally pushing him over the edge. Well, nudging him. I can't imagine the Queen pushing anybody.
"Oh, god, America," Maxon says, turning around in the bed to face me once again. He runs his good hand through my hair and I smile as his fingers brush against my cheek. "This is really happening, isn't it? We're getting married."
"Well, technically speaking," I say, ready to burst his little, blissful bubble. "You never proposed to me. We're allowed to get married, but we're not really getting married yet. I mean, we're not even engaged."
Amberly lets out a soft giggle from across the room and I wink at her. She just rolls her eyes - something I've never seen her do. "I do suppose that's quite a major issue," Maxon agrees, pretending to contemplate the idea. "Well, I guess since we're not engaged, I don't have to marry you. That Kriss girl seems very pleasant . . ."
I smack him playfully and he just shoves me back. I smile at the gleam in his eyes, the way they seem to dance and laugh in the light. He's truly happy.
"I suppose I should go to bed now," Amberly says, breaking up our little moment. "You should, too, America. It's been a long day."
"What about Maxon? Is he just supposed to sleep here?"
"No, the doctor cleared you to return to your room, if you like, Maxon. Just return here first thing in the morning, alright?" Maxon gives his mother a faint nod and she turns to leave.
"Queen Amberly?" I add, just as she opens the door. She raises an eyebrow in response. "Thank you, really, for all you've done for me. For us." Maxon smiles at me, as does the Queen.
"It's been my pleasure, America," she says and I believe it. "Goodnight." With that, the door snaps shut.
"What's this?" I ask the next morning as Maxon walks inside my room, carrying a small breakfast tray. It's barely 6 am, but he's already up and dressed, primped and polished for the long day ahead. His arm is still wrapped in a cast, but the cut on his forehead already seems much better.
"Just some breakfast," he grins, sitting down on the bed beside me. He removes the silver top to reveal a small plate of eggs, fruit, and strawberry tarts, as well as hot tea, steaming in its cup. My favorite.
"You really didn't have to do that, Maxon," I reply, though I'm already picking up a fork and digging into the eggs. "I should be bringing breakfast to you."
"You're not my maid anymore, America. You don't have to do that," he says, placing a gentle hand over mine.
"I know," I shrug. As much as it feels like I'm now at his level - equal in standings - I sometimes find myself wondering if he still thinks of me as a maid, just a poor girl meant to dust his shelves. "But still, you really shouldn't have."
"Stop arguing and eat!" Maxon scolds teasingly. But there's a hint of seriousness in his voice. He seems almost nervous. Why would he be nervous? It's just breakfast.
"Alright already!" I laugh, shoving a spoonful of eggs into my mouth. I scarf them down and then finish off the fruit, saving the tarts for last. I've seen them many times in the kitchen before, but have only ever had a bite, when Maxon offered me some in his room. It was absolutely delectable. I take a small bite and practically faint from the taste. "Oh my God, these are incredible!" I exclaim, shoving in another bite. "My sister would cry if she tasted these!"
"Would she really?"
"Huh?
"Cry, I mean," Maxon adds playfully. He glances nervously at the tart in my hands, making me feel self-conscious. Is a princess not supposed to eat, or something? Is he judging me for shoving all that food down my throat at once? Probably, but I don't really care. "Do you really think she'd cry if she tasted one?"
I smile, thinking of May's gleaming eyes settling on these beautiful tarts. "She most definitely would," I smile. May has always loved sweets.
"Well, she can try them when she visits," Maxon says, a hint of a promise there. Was he going to bring my family here anytime soon? "Come on, finish up. We don't have all day."
I roll my eyes, but bite at the tart hungrily. I'm halfway through when my teeth hit something solid. I pull away, touching my tooth tenderly. Surely the chefs wouldn't be so careless as to drop something in the dough, right? Still, I pull apart the tart and gasp as my eyes settle on a shimmering piece of metal resting in the strawberry goo. I gasp and glance up at Maxon, who's just smiling casually, as if there was nothing wrong. But I can see the nerves hidden underneath his perfect smile; he's about to explode with anxiety.
I place the tart down and gingerly pull the ring from inside of it. It's simple yet elegant; a plain, braided band with a small diamond resting at the top. It's stunning. "Maxon . . . I . . ." I don't get to finish, as he takes the ring from my hand and gently wipes it off with a napkin. After all, it is covered in strawberries.
"I didn't expect for this to be so messy," he murmurs, though his voice was shaking. "I thought it'd be cute . . . I didn't really how gross the idea was until now."
"Maxon," I whisper as he polishes off the ring. Despite the slight strangeness of proposing via food, I'm still in awe. "It's perfect. It's not stupid or gross . . . it's everything I wanted," I gasp, surprised to find myself crying. Tears are sliding down my face as he gently takes my hand and slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly, tight enough not to slide off but loose enough to feel comfortable.
"Beautiful," Maxon whispers, though he's not looking at the ring.
The next thing I know, he's on his knee in front of me, his hands taking my newly ringed one, and I'm crying freely. "America Singer," he starts, looking up into my eyes. "I don't know how this happened, but it did. I have loved you since the moment I opened the door to find you standing there, wide-eyed and terrified of the horrifying prince. I have loved you since you called me by name and told me yours. I have loved you since you told me of love and gave me hope in finding it one day. Little did I know that it'd would be with you," he chuckles, giving my hand a squeeze. "And I have loved you since I first pressed my lips against yours and truly tasted love. And I will continue to love you for the rest of your life." He takes a long, shaky breath and I melt inside. "America Singer, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and my queen?"
"Technically," I say in a teasing voice, though it cracks. "You're supposed to say that before you give me the ring."
He laughs, though I can see the hidden anger bubbling inside him at his mistake. "Could you every forgive me?"
I fall to my knees in front of him and collapse into his arms. He circles me welcomingly and I press my face into his chest. "Yes," I whisper, kissing the nape of his neck, his cheek, his lips. "Yes, yes, yes, Maxon, yes I will marry you." He pulls me into his lap and starts to devour me, unravel me, and undo me.
I don't think I've ever felt so happy in my life.
I hope that was a sufficient chapter. The last one will be up in a few days, with the epilogue to follow in a week or so! Let me know what you think!