Here is the next chapter! I am not sure if everyone had time to catch up and read the chapter I posted yesterday, but I don't want to keep you guys waiting since everyone is begging me to update! Please bear with me - there is a happy ending!

As always, thank you for the kind reviews. They inspire me to keep writing!

A.R. Darcangelo

P.S. Dhenn618 and all those who were wondering - the story isn't over yet. I have a few more things up my sleeve. The story will finish before the book comes out May 6th, so expect a few more updates this week.

Chapter 21:

I was released from the hospital wing early in the morning, and I had already said my goodbyes to my maids and Aspen. I would see Aspen again – he was going home for Christmas this year. His family didn't know that yet, so I would have to hold in that secret for another two weeks. My maids promised me they would try to keep the music program for the Christmas ball, but it was possible that Kriss or Celeste would change it since I was leaving.

As I packed the last of my things, I listed all the reasons I was leaving in my head: one – I would be a terrible princess. My head was full of ideas that I didn't know how to communicate. I also would be a horrendous queen. The grace and patience that Queen Amberly exhibited on a daily basis was astounding, especially when the king had been such a…

I shook my head. Thinking about the king was the last thing I wanted to do. His funeral was today, and I wasn't even sure who was going to show up.

I knew I also couldn't stay because everyone knew what had happened – and when I say everyone, I mean it. When Aspen had told me that, I didn't realize he meant the entire country. Apparently, the rebels who had seen the king and I as we entered the safe room had gone directly to the media with the information – and Gregory Illea's diary. Maxon's room had been ransacked during the Report – apparently he had been hiding it at the bottom of a box full of camera film. One of the rebels had knocked it over while trying to take a picture with his camera. The picture was actually quite funny – that had been floating around as well, much to the dismay of the rebel, I'm sure.

On top of all that, it turned out the servants who supposedly had been stealing items from the palace around the time Maxon had been born weren't servants – the king himself had been giving palace goods to the rebels to keep them at bay, and over the past few years, he had stopped sending out goods, which is why the attacks increased dramatically. Everything – the stolen goods, the white oleanders, the queen's miscarriages, and the diary – had been secrets hidden by the king to keep things under his control and power.

Luckily, it had been easy to tell the public that the diary had been kept from Maxon until recently. The people Maxon and I had met while we'd snuck out of the palace had been interviewed as well, and while the public was mostly skeptical, there was some hope that change would happen now that the king was gone.

That was another reason I couldn't stay. Maxon was in full king mode. He hadn't been crowned yet, but like I had told him, I was not content to stay on the side while he visited provinces and foreign countries to calm the hysteria and keep the country from falling apart. Those were things that were too dangerous for me, and until Maxon had things under control, I would be sitting on the sidelines wondering if he was going to come back. I couldn't bear to do that.

Of all these reasons, there was only one that trumped all of them: I was still in love with him. I wasn't sure if I'd ever stop. But I was certain that there was a better choice for him. Kriss could do all the things I couldn't, and I don't think a fly would dream of touching her. Maxon could be happy with her. I had seen as much on the Report, and that was enough of a reason for me.

I could finally see why Aspen had left me in the treehouse so many months ago. Yes, I had not been chosen for the Selection yet, but I could understand wanting what's best for the person you love. I had never loved Aspen enough to do that – but I loved Maxon so much that I couldn't justify being with him when I knew I wasn't what was best for him.

I reminded myself of this every time I was tempted to run to his room and tell him how much I loved him, and beg him to let me stay. It was unclear if the competition was over, but as far as I knew, Kriss and Celeste were still here. If I stayed, I may still be part of the Selection, and to be honest, I was through with the whole dang thing.

My door squeaked open, and I sighed. "Girls, I know you don't want me to go. I don't want to leave you either. But it's the right thing to do," I said with conviction. No one answered. I loved Mary, Anne, and Lucy, too, but this was making everything so much harder!

I whipped around to tell them as much, but stopped short. She was as beautiful as ever, and the news of the past few days didn't slump her shoulders. Even dressed in all black, she was as regal as she'd ever been.

Queen Amberly.

I quickly curtsied. "Queen Amberly! I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you." A blush creeped up the back of my neck.

She waved a white gloved hand at me, shooing away my salutation. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Amberly?"

I shrugged. "I forget. It's been so long since I have seen you."

Her eyes downcast as she slowly walked over to me. "Yes, I do apologize for that. I believe I have some explaining to do."

I shook my head. "No need. I understand why… I hope you are doing well. Are you?"

She nodded, offering me a small smile. "Yes, quite well actually. I returned just about twenty minutes ago. I tried to visit you in the hospital wing, but you had already left. Although I am glad that you are here, and not there." She glanced around my room – well, it wasn't mine anymore.

"Yes, me too. I feel like new." I smiled at her.

She didn't smile back at me. She reached out her hand and held my unbandaged one. "America, why are you leaving?"

I sighed. I had built a relationship with Queen Amberly as well; I didn't want to leave her either. "Because it's the right thing to do."

"I think I got that when I came in," she said, raising her eyebrow in a motherly fashion. "But who says it is the right thing to do?"

"I do," I responded without hesitation.

I was surprised when she let out a laugh. "America, you are so intelligent. But when it comes to the most important things, you overthink everything and you make terrible choices."

"I know," I agreed. "That's one of many reasons why I am leaving."

"Do you have any reasons to stay?" she said knowingly.

I sighed again. I wasn't about to tell her my only reason to stay, because regardless of his actions, the king was right – I wasn't Maxon's only option. It didn't matter that he was mine.

She observed my silence for a moment. "America, don't be silly. My son loves you, and it hurts him more for you to leave. And yes, you may not be the most diplomatic choice for the country, but you are what it needs. Maxon gives the country what you can't, and you do the same for him. You compliment each other perfectly. You have every reason in the world to stay."

I shook my head. "No, I don't."

She let go of my hand and tilted my chin up. "When I left, I immediately started making plans for you and Maxon to come with me. I knew you were his choice – from the beginning, I saw it. And every time he came to the breakfast table with a miserable frown on his face, I told him to buck up and go make up with you. He wasn't going to be happy until he did. It's not like that with anyone else. If he doesn't have anyone else, it doesn't matter if he has you."

My eyes started to burn. "But Amberly, I have hurt him… so many times. One of these days it's going to be the last straw, and I will have outstayed my welcome. He'll be begging me to go."

She laughed, tapping my nose with her pointer finger. "You are so stubborn. The choice is yours, America. But I guarantee you are making the wrong choice by leaving him. Neither of you will be happy."

"He'll get over me," I said, leaving out that she was right at least about me.

She cocked her head, studying me. "For what's it's worth, I think that your ability to stand here and argue your point after everything you've been through proves that you can be a queen. You have it in you, I know you do. But you have to see it first." She took my hand and patted it. "Also, I do apologize for all that you have had to experience. I hope your time here at the palace doesn't leave too many scars."

I smiled. "The best people all have some kind of scar." *

I knew she knew that I was talking about her. She had lots of scars – and she was the bravest person I knew. She leaned forward and pulled me in for the most unladylike bear hug. I squeezed her back, missing her already.

"Goodbye, my dear America. I hope we meet again," she said into my hair.

"Me too," I mumbled into her neck.

She let me go, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she turned and left me alone.

I walked around my room one last time, running my hand over the small piano, more beautiful than any other one I'd ever touched. I looked out over my balcony, drinking in the beauty of the garden I loved so much. I spotted the bench where I had met Maxon. It was our bench. I hoped that was one of many things he would keep tucked away just for me.

I finally stepped out of my room, closing the door behind me. I walked down the stairs and to the front doors of the palace, remembering the last time I had stood here, expecting to leave.

In my memory, Maxon had come running, telling me he had convinced his father to let me stay. Even though his father could never stand in our way now, here I was, ready to walk out of his life forever.

Before I could hesitate one more time, I turned the handle and walked through the door, letting it shut tight behind me. There was already a car waiting for me, the back hatch open for my little bag. My maids had saved all the dresses they had ever made me, and those were already being shipped to my parent's house. They would probably make it there before I did.

I threw my bag into the back and a guard opened the back door for me. I slid inside, waiting for it to shut. The lump in my throat got larger.

"America! America, wait!" a young, feminine voice yelled.

"Wait!" I said, holding my hand out so the guard wouldn't shut the door. I jumped out of the car and whipped around, looking for the source of the noise.

Marlee was running across the front lawn, Carter jogging behind her. Underneath her shirt there was a little bump, barely noticeable.

"Marlee!" I cried as she reached me. She wrapped her arms around my neck as I lightly squeezed her back.

"You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye to me, were you?" she said, scolding me.

"I'm sorry, Marlee, I wasn't thinking," I admitted guiltily.

"Maxon just told me you were going home. I wanted to come visit you in the hospital, but I can't because everyone still thinks we're gone. Although Maxon says now that his father is gone, we may be able to come out and everyone will know what he did for us. I mean, I don't think that's why he'd do it, but it wouldn't hurt for people to know that. Oh, America, why are you leaving?" Marlee asked, her face confused.

"I have to," I said, my face withdrawn.

She tucked my hair behind my ear. "No, you don't. But I respect your decision. I wish you could see the baby." Her hand cupped her stomach.

"Oh, Marlee! I forgot, congratulations!" I said, a smile lighting up my face.

"You forgot? How did you know, I just…" She turned to Carter accusingly. He shrugged his shoulders. Marlee blew out a puff of air. "Oh, Maxon, I am going to hurt that man. He wasn't supposed to tell you."

"I was supposed to act surprised," I said, hoping he wouldn't be in too much trouble. "Don't be too hard on him."

She sighed. "I won't," she promised. "If you won't be too hard on him."

I looked down at my feet. "It's the best thing for him," I mumbled.

"America Singer, you are a stubborn idiot. But I love you," she said, hugging me again. "And I will miss you. Promise me you'll write to me?"

I grinned. "I love you, too. And of course I promise."

"Good," she said, letting me go. "Well go on, you don't want to miss your plane."

I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as Queen Amberly had done for me. I slid back into the car and the guard shut the door.

As the driver started the car and began to drive away, I looked behind me, memorizing the view of the palace with Marlee and Carter standing in front of it, his arms around her growing tummy.