Thanks for the reviews!

kayselection- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. :)

lilythemermaid- Thanks, girly :P I had a really strong feeling that you'd catch on. Haha

Delphinium14- Yes, Celeste is a headache. And thank you! I'm glad you love it. Tess may get her memory back. Or not. Guess you have to keep reading. :)

DISCLAIMER: Rights belong to Kiera Cass and etc.

Love ya!- AcademicGirl

Tess's POV

Matthew and I are in a carnival. There is cotton candy and rides. We take pictures in the photo booth. We ride the carousel. We act like we're children. We are happy.

I wake up more hyper than usual. After that dream, I have the searing urge to see Matthew. I open the door that connects his room to mine and find him still in bed.

Shirtless.

I don't know if I should look away. I don't. It's a Sunday. I can do what I want. I run to him and jump on the bed. It bounces, but not enough to even stir Matt. I keep hopping up and down.

"Matthew," I say loudly. "Wake up!"

"Five more minutes," he mumbles. He pulls the covers over his head. I do the only sensible thing I can think of at the moment: I sit on him.

"Matthew! Wake up!"

Suddenly, he shoots up and pushes me down so I'm on my back and on the other side of the bed. He straddles my hips, and I would've thought this a romantic moment until he smiles mischievously. "Gotcha," he says. His hands slide to my waist and starts tickling me. Embarrassing giggles shoot out of my mouth. They turn into full-blown laughter, and I can't really breathe anymore.

"Matt, stop!" I shriek.

"Thought it was funny to try and wake me up?" he says, a devilish light in his eye.

"No, no!" I say in between laughs. "I'm sorry!"

"What was that?" he says, mocking me and putting his ear closer to my mouth. "I didn't quite hear that."

"I said I'm sorry, you doof. Now don't make me take it back."

His hands release me but remains in his position. "So what important reason did you think was important to wake me up at—" He looks at the small clock on his bedside table. "—ten, thirty-eight on a Sunday morning?"

"I had a dream," I say. "We were at a carnival, and we were just having fun there. Memory or imagination?"

He finally gets off me and lies down by my side. "Imagination definitely. I hate carnivals." He shudders in a dramatic way. "Too. Many. Clowns."

I laugh and poke his side. "You're pathetic."

"Men don't like being mocked, love."

"Who said you're a man?" I tease.

"Okay, that's it. You just started World War Five." He has a careless smile on his face as he tickles me again.

"Stop! Stop!" I wail. I put my hands on his forearms and try to force them away. He somehow ends up on top of me again, this time his legs flush with mine.

"Hmm," he says. "What an interesting position we're in, love. Think about the possibilities. I could get off you, keep tickling you, or I could kiss you."

My face flushes at the last option. He raises one eyebrow. "I see we both favor the third choice," he says smugly.

I roll my eyes. "Oh please. You're so full of yourself."

He eases down so that his nose is millimeters from mine. He can't be near enough. I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop myself from saying anything stupid. Matt grins and gives me one quick peck on the tip of my nose. "Let's eat breakfast, love," he says, suddenly eager for food. But he stays in place, his stupid smile still inches from my face. Without thinking, I touch my lips to his. The kiss is soft and thoughtful, making me feel as if I'm filled with embers. My fingers skim the scars on his back and he sighs. From pain or euphoria, I can't tell, but it definitely makes me sigh in return.

He pulls away but gives me one last kiss. Then he gets up and goes to the bathroom. I continue lying there in a daze, still remembering the way I felt the smile on his lips.

Matthew's POV

"There hasn't been a rebel attack in a week, Dad," I say. I'm filling in for Michael. While he's out surfing and doing God knows what (with Eva, by the way), I'm stuck here talking about the stupid rebels. Whee.

"I know, Matthew, but that doesn't mean we should stop trying," Dad says. There is an exchange of words between Dad and the advisers, but I'm hanging on to this conversation by a thread. I wonder what Tess is doing. She's probably doing some princess-y thing or whatever. I don't see what else she needs to learn. Well, maybe she has to learn to stop being a klutz and getting hurt. I mean, two knives to the abdomen, a bruise on her temple, and oh yeah, jumping out a freakin' plane. That exploded. That's my girl...

I wonder how it is in Honduragua, where Grandma Amberly lives. She couldn't come for her own grandson's wedding. She's in a coma right now. I hope she's okay.

"Uh, your highness," a timid voice asks. I snap back to attention and look at the man who is father's head adviser. "I need a status update on the caste placement test." He has a notepad and a pen poised to write. I tell him what happened. The applicants, the judges, the paparazzi. I shouldn't have mentioned the last one, because an adviser brings out a magazine. The glossy cover exposes a picture Tess and me a millimeter apart. The royal couple is more in love than ever! the cover says. See more details inside.

Dad gives me a stern look. "This meeting is adjourned," he says with a straight face.

That immediately concludes the meeting. The advisers leave the two of us.

"Matthew," Dad starts, folding his hands on the table. "Let me tell you that this isn't the first time you've been reckless with Tess."

"I know, Dad. But this one we wanted to get on the tabloids," I tell him.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Why?"

"Well, Tess and I thought that the whole country should know that the rebels aren't affecting us."

He nods almost in approval. "Just be careful, Matthew. This could only anger the rebels more."

"Will do, Dad," I say. I start to get up, but he hands me more paperwork. "Dad—"

"No complaints, son," he says, cutting me off.

I smirk. "How did you know I was gonna complain? What if I was gonna tell you I love you?"

Dad chuckles. "Well, you're like your mother, meaning you'd complain."

I groan and stand up to leave. Before I go, Dad calls after me, "Love you, son."

"Love you too," I grumble.

Tess's POV

Let's go exploring, my mind says. I dress in comfortable track shorts and a T-Shirt. I go down a hidden stairwell so no one sees me. When I hit the landing, I run down the hall just because I feel like it. I stop when I see big double doors. When I open it, I can't believe my eyes.

The room is large with three metal walls. On one is a row of targets. Several feet away from that are knives. Another wall is covered in colorful holds that must be for climbing. Punching bags and dummies are in another area. There are weights and a stationary bike. There's also a chin-up bar. This must be a work-out room.

I'm not sure who uses it. Maybe the king or the princes. A thought of Matthew lifting weights suddenly makes me feel ashamed of myself. I want to learn how to defend myself. Who's going to teach me, though?

As if on cue, someone enters the room. "I see you've found this delightful thing," a voice with an accent says. Prince Jerome stands next to me with his arms crossed. "And what might a delicate princess like you be doing in here?"

I roll my eyes. "You were sexist and blind at the same time. Seriously, no one in their right mind would call me delicate."

He laughs. "So what are you doing here?"

I shrug. "I want to learn how to defend myself from the rebels."

"And who's going to teach you?"

I shrug again. "Me?"

"No offense, but you can't teach yourself how to fight against rebels."

"You teach me, then," I say with a renewed enthusiasm.

"I don't know," he replies. "I can be very intense."

I grin and turn to Jerome. "Bring it on."