The next two days, leading up to the raid on the rebels, were amongst the longest America had ever known in the Palace. She couldn't remember being as distressed within these walls since the rebel attack that had almost stolen Maxon from her. The phone in her office rang constantly with reporters hoping for a quick quote, but Gavril had instituted a media blackout as soon as Maxon had finished his speech condemning the actions of the rebels. No one from the Palace was permitted to say a word about anything to anyone, not until those hostages were safe and those rebel camps were flattened.
None of the Illéan columnists felt brave enough to criticize Maxon's handling of the situation outright, but they were very passive-aggressive and snarky about the Palace's media blackout. They suggested that Maxon, being such a young king, was making many mistakes out of inexperience and those mistakes were costing citizens their lives. After reading the third such column, America tearfully begged Gavril to lift the blackout just long enough to reassure the country of Maxon's worthiness to rule.
"One more day, your Majesty. Just one more day, and they'll know everything." Gavril had reassured her soothingly, offering her a cookie from a tin on his desk. She was hardly placated by this response, but the ginger spice cookie really did make her feel better, and she resolved to pay more attention to keeping her blood sugar stable in future. Low blood sugar and a pregnant Queen did not mix well.
In addition to being unable to manage their plummeting approval ratings, the impossibility of getting any substantial work done in a Palace that could not communicate to the outside world, and the tension brought on by knowing that if the rebel raid went wrong, it would take years for the monarchy to recover in the eyes of the people, these rebels were also taking a toll on America's personal life.
The number of guards on the third floor of the Palace was doubled for the foreseeable future, and so any illusion of privacy was destroyed. If Maxon's constant anxiety about losing America had been bad before, in the back of his mind, it now constantly occupied all of his mind. He agonized over that note, which he now kept in his right pocket. His left pocket was reserved for the most recent ultrasound image of their baby. These were his duel obsessions.
America and Silvia tried to coordinate the schedule so that, for the few days after the frequency hacking, America was always a stones throw from Maxon. He seemed to appreciate this, at least once an hour he'd poke his head into whatever room America was in. He wouldn't say anything, he just wanted to see her and see that she was still fine. After a while, they all stopped acknowledging these little interruptions. He'd just look in, study America for a moment, give her a nod, and then leave again. He was a wreck.
And that wreck was not confined to daylight hours. When he finally managed to sleep, Maxon would wake up, tossing, turning, and calling out America's name at least once a night. America had no idea how to help him. She honestly was not afraid of what this 'K' from the note might do to her, she was much more afraid of what this 'K' was currently doing to her husband.
And this panicked worry was not confined to Maxon. Aspen voluntarily returned from paternity leave early when Maxon told him about the threat on America's life. Aspen had been Maxon's first call after recovering from the shock of the note, and if the situation had been different, America would have found this demonstration of Maxon's and Aspen's close relationship adorable.
Aspen returned to the Palace early the morning after the attack, and conducted a thorough inspection of America's room, which America was not allowed into anymore. Maxon kept her in his room when they were on the third floor, as if the room next door to the room that had been infiltrated would really be any safer.
Aspen concluded that nothing was taken from America's room when the rebels left the note, nothing was destroyed, nothing was even disturbed from its usual place. All they had done was leave the note. Apparently, what the note had said was very true, they didn't want anything. If they'd wanted anything, they could have taken it. All they wanted from Maxon was to kill his Queen and, unbeknownst to them, his little heir. And also to scare the King out of his mind with the threat of killing America, which, incidentally, was working.
Aspen, Maxon, and Gavril had a long meeting right after Aspen concluded his investigation, a meeting to which America was invited as a cursory gesture of politeness and not to interject any actual opinions. It was determined, amongst these three zealous protectors, that all of America's scheduled public appearances would be canceled for the foreseeable future. Maxon knew they'd have to let America out of the Palace someday, but it wasn't going to be anytime soon. America would have argued for a more measured reaction to the note, but it was still all she could do to keep Maxon from making her sleep in a safe room. She decided to pick her battles until this blew over.
So it had been a long couple of days to say the least. In the wee hours of Friday morning, the raids on the rebel camps were simultaneously executed, but the Palace wouldn't know the complete measure of success until Friday night. They were in a limbo all day, which was doing nothing to ease anyone's nerves.
America had a light schedule on Friday, prescribed for her by Silvia, who was not pleased by the dark circles under America's eyes. It was important that Queens maintain an appearance of composure, and part of that required the Queen to remain healthy. Or, that was what Silvia said, rather than admit how much she'd come to care for America in their years working closely together.
Maxon, however, had a packed schedule, with news of recovered hostages and decimated rebel camps trickling in throughout the day and requiring his attention. So America, Silvia, Marlee, and Kile spent the morning in the Women's Room discussing the Grateful Feast parade and making plans for the next work week, leading up to the big baby announcement. It was Silvia's favorite tactic for fighting back against the rebels, going on with business as usual, and America had to admit, it helped.
America had given Maxon permission to enter the Women's room as soon as he had a break in his meetings so that they could go to their ten week ultrasound appointment together. It was the first slice of nice and normal they'd had in days, and they were coveting it.
There was a gentle summer thunderstorm that morning, and it made America and Kile very sleepy. So Marlee and Silvia kept up their casual planning for the next week in one corner of the room and insisted that America and Kile take a nap together on the other side of the room, in the enormous overstuffed red armchair facing a large window where rivulets of water snaked down in the most entrancing way.
Kile nestled perfectly into the crook of America's arm, his lips pouted out where his cheek pressed against her chest. America drifted off the the sounds of his little steady breaths mixing together with the sounds of the rain on the windows and Marlee and Silvia's hushed chatter on the other side of the room to create the most soothing lullaby.
She woke up to Maxon's warm brown eyes at a level with her own sleepy blue eyes, amusement all over his face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked.
"No." she mumbled, cuddling closer to Kile.
"Don't you want to go and hear our baby's heartbeat for the first time?" Maxon reminded her. Now that she was in her tenth week, the heartbeat was officially loud enough to hear on the machine. This had been the thing that had gotten them through this week.
"Yes." America replied softly, inhaling the smell of Kile's hair, deeply. Whatever baby shampoo Marlee and Carter used on him had the most alluring scent.
"So you should get ready to go, shouldn't you?" Maxon knelt down so that he wouldn't have to remain bent over as he negotiated the end of nap time with his wife.
"Mmm... no." America yawned and closed her eyes, warm and cozy exactly where she was.
"You prefer to keep Dr. Ashlar waiting?"
"Yes."
"That's a bit impolite, isn't it?"
"...No."
"Because you're the Queen?"
"Exactly." America sighed, the grogginess slowly wearing off the longer Maxon talked with her. She peeked an eye open, "And I have this little person weighing me down." she gave Kile, who was letting out the sweetest little toddler snores, a tiny squeeze.
Maxon smiled tiredly, "I can help you with that." He stood and gently gathered Kile into his arms. Kile wiggled a bit but did not awaken, shifting his head to rest on Maxon's shoulder and his little fist to clutch at Maxon's tie.
America was immediately cold, at the loss of this important little source of warmth. "No…" America sighed, and wiggled a little in the chair to try to find a position as warm and comfortable as she'd been with Kile. "You kidnapper." America complained, but then finally accepted the hand Maxon was offering her, pulling herself up to stand.
One bleary-eyed glance across the room and it was clear that Marlee was grinning wildly at them.
"Time to go?" Marlee asked softly, as Maxon led America over to Silvia and Marlee's side of the room.
"Yes." Maxon said, enthusiastically.
"We can't wait to see the picture." Marlee smiled, opening her arms to accept her snoozing son. Maxon delicately laid Kile in his mother's arms, but it took an extra moment to pry those little toddler fingers from his tie.
"I'll make sure to show you tomorrow, Marlee." America said, eyes trained on her husband as he fussed over Kile.
Maxon broke free of Kile's grasp and straightened up, wrapping an arm around America and bidding the others a final farewell.
They didn't say a word until they found themselves in an empty corridor.
"I'll be glad when we don't have to sneak around about this baby anymore." America said, softly. "I want to start putting together a nursery and collecting baby clothes."
Maxon smiled down at her, but it was a strained smile. "I know. But forgive me if I enjoy these last few days of obscurity. Once those rebels know that you're pregnant, it's only going to get worse."
"They won't have much left to attack us with, after today." America tried to reassure him. America had hoped that, with the so far seemingly successful execution of the raids on the rebel camps, Maxon might relax a little. But up 'til now, these raids seemed to be having the opposite effect. Maxon seemed to feel that freeing the rest of the hostages and returning them to their families, whilst simultaneously destroying several large rebel bases, had done nothing but taunt 'K'.
Maxon paused in the hallway and pressed a firm kiss to America's forehead. "I love you." he said, simply.
"I know, Maxon." America assured him. She didn't know what to say to make him feel better. "After the appointment, let's go take a nap, okay?"
"Weren't you just sleeping?" Maxon asked, amused.
"I can't seem to get enough, right now." America shrugged, taking his hand. "Kenna said she was the same way when she was expecting Astra. I'll probably get some of my energy back in a few weeks, the second trimester is supposed to be easier."
"Do you miss talking to Kenna?" Maxon asked, frowning, as they continued walking. He felt guilty that America was cut off from talking to her family until the raids were over.
"I'll be able to call her again tomorrow." America assured him. "I'm fine, I promise."
"I know, you're being very strong. I just… I think we should maybe talk about moving your family into the Palace for a little while, once we announce the baby."
"I don't want to uproot them again—"
"I know. I'm not making a decision, I just want to discuss it. If something happened to them—"
America shuddered, "Okay. We'll discuss it." she promised. "But let's get through today, first."
Maxon nodded, clearly thoughtful about something. "I'll have an assistant come and get me if anything is urgent. Otherwise, I'll let Stavros handle things until after dinner. We'll have that nap."
America smiled up at him, "Maxon, thank you." She knew it wasn't easy for him to carve time out for her on a day like today.
"This was part of the deal, as I recall." Maxon smiled, clearly inflating under her adoring gaze. "I'm here for you."
"Yes, you are." she agreed, happily. Just the prospect of curling up under the covers with Maxon was enough to put a spring in her step. Maybe, if it was just a nap, Maxon wouldn't have nightmares this time. This could be really good for both of them.
Dr. Ashlar was waiting for them in the examination room with the sonogram machine in it. One of his assistants showed them in and while Maxon and Dr. Ashlar chatted amiably, America changed out of her day dress into a spare outfit Paige had left for her in the hospital wing that morning. It was just one of Maxon's white t-shirts and a pair of his cotton shorts, but wearing them soothed her. She usually got nervous when she was getting ultrasounds done, as a hundred different anxieties flitted through her mind in the moments leading up to the time when she actually got to see her baby again, and see that it was, in fact, still healthy. Wearing Maxon's clothes helped ground her, and allowed Dr. Ashlar much easier access to her little curved belly.
Dr. Ashlar started with a physical examination, asking America how she'd been feeling and drawing a little bit of blood for a quick panel. As the machine analyzing her blood began to whir and grind, Dr. Ashlar praised America's weight gain for the week, telling her that she was well within the very healthy range. He measured her, and gloated over her little baby lump, warning to look out for what he called a 'pop' in the next week or so, that this was a warning of much more growth to come, as she entered her second trimester. Maxon seemed especially pleased at the prospect of a rapidly growing baby bump.
Finally Dr. Ashlar had America lay back on the examination bed and roll her shirt up, and a swarm of butterflies seized her stomach. She knew, in her mind, that the baby was fine. Every week she had an examination like this, and while she didn't always get an ultrasound, the news was always very good. This was a healthy bun in her oven, and she knew it, but a worst case scenario always played through her mind in the seconds before the sonogram machine turned on and the irrefutable evidence of her baby's health was right before her eyes.
Maxon picked up on this trepidation, seemingly reading her mind, and he leant down and gave her a firm forehead kiss. "What's the worst that could happen? It could have gills?" Maxon joked.
America smiled weakly and played along as Dr. Ashlar finished setting the machine up. "Illéa would have its first half-fish monarch."
"We should put something in the laws to allow for fish Kings and Queens."
"Agreed." America nodded, and Dr. Ashlar fought off a chuckle as he pressed the wand to America's jellied belly.
"Well, there the baby is." Dr. Ashlar said, nodding to the screen with the image displayed on it.
What once had been an interesting amorphous blob had grown into a clearly person-shaped blob. This was the first week they could make out identifiable features.
"I see a nose!" Maxon exclaimed, joyously, examining his child's profile for the first time. "And arms!" There were, indeed, little elongated nubs where arms and legs would go.
"That's a Schreave chin if ever I've seen one." America smiled.
Dr. Ashlar interjected, "And a very well-developed cranium, Majesties, for its age. We're going to have quite the smarty on our hands." he was beaming almost as widely as Maxon.
"I see the heart." America sniffled. Her eyes were misting over, but she blinked the tears back fiercely. She didn't want them to get in the way of her vision.
There was a glowing, blinking white spec in the baby's body, clearly a heart.
"Are you ready to hear it, Queen America?" Dr. Ashlar asked.
America gulped, "Yes."
She was bracing herself for the sound, but still felt taken aback when the machine began emitting audio.
At first, all America could make out was white noise from the machine. She furrowed her brow and strained to listen, and Maxon did the same. Then, after a moment, a small, steady thumping sound became obvious. America watched Maxon's face closely, once she'd detected the heartbeat, and her attention was rewarded when she saw the very moment he recognized their baby's heartbeat.
"Ames—" he choked, his own eyes growing misty.
"I know." America grinned.
"That's our baby!" Maxon exclaimed, seizing her hand and leaning down to kiss her quickly.
"Wow." America leaned her head back and breathed, just taking in the steady, reassuring sound.
"That's a good, strong heartbeat." Dr. Ashlar bragged. "I'm hearing 150 beats per minute, and the normal range is 145-165, so that is totally within the green zone."
They made Dr. Ashlar sit there for five whole minutes, listening to that heartbeat and staring at the image of their rapidly developing baby. They finally tore themselves away after some gentle prodding from Dr. Ashlar, who needed to get on with his work for the day.
Maxon made America partake in their afternoon nap topless, and he laid there on the bed with his ear pressed to her bare belly, straining to listen.
"It's still too small." He finally gave up. "I can't hear it."
"It's plum sized." America grinned, remembering what Dr. Ashlar had told them. "Can you imagine?"
Maxon smiled, then rolled off of her stomach, "I want it to get bigger right now!" he complained.
"You are a petulant boy of a king today, aren't you?" America smiled.
"I'm just excited." Maxon grinned, sheepishly, staring up at the ceiling. His thoughts seemed to take a turn and he leant up, looking over at America. "Ames, you know I'll never let anything bad happen to you, don't you?"
"That's one hell of a promise, Maxon, but I don't know that you can keep it." America said, pointedly.
"Fine. Bad things will happen—"
"That's right they will, and if you waste all of your time and energy trying to beat away every bad thing that crosses our path, you're going to be too distracted to appreciate the good things."
"My wise queen." Maxon nodded, then tried again. "Bad things will happen sometimes, but I won't let anyone hurt you."
"I know." America said, reaching out and tugging him up so that he'd be eye level with her in the bed. "You let your father cane you for fear that, if you didn't, he might lash me instead. You jumped in front of a bullet for me, Maxon, you almost died."
"And yet, on seeing you walk into my room, all but unscathed, suddenly my bullet wound felt like nothing at all, a minor irritation." Maxon said, a far-off look in his eyes, as he remembered.
"I'm not scared, Maxon." America assured him. "I'm not scared of that note."
"I know. Maybe you should be."
"Well, I'm not. I don't think much of these rebels."
Maxon smiled, "No, you never have. But maybe you should start."
"Maxon—"
"They got in and out of your room and no one stopped them, Ames." Maxon implored.
"But they weren't exactly undetected, were they?"
"We don't know that they couldn't have been. They were trying to be detected, remember? It was all a big diversion." Maxon frowned and wrapped an arm around America, pressing his forehead to her ear and burying his nose in the crook of her neck.
America took her time responding. "Aspen's working on it." she finally said, definitively. "Nothing gets past Aspen."
"Well, I'd hate for your death to be the first thing. It would destroy this palace, America."
"No, it wouldn't—"
"Aspen would never recover. I certainly would never recover. Poor Silvia would suffer a nervous breakdown, she's grown to adore you. Marlee and Carter would be devastated, Gavril would never be the same, and how about the number you've done on Stavros? What about Mary, Paige, and that new girl? What about the pall it would cast over Italy as Nicoletta processed your loss? It would be a global tragedy, Ames."
"I think you're being a little dramatic, Maxon—" she didn't believe the words, but they were all she had to try to help him feel better.
"I'm not." he sighed. "But it doesn't matter. Because I won't ever let anyone hurt you. Or the baby."
"And all of the people you just listed, Nic and Stavros, Gavril and Silvia and Marlee and Carter… none of them will let anything hurt me, either. Aspen would lay down his life for me, in a heartbeat, and that really concerns me, you know, with Lucy and Meri and everything."
"Yeah." Maxon nodded, and it was clear from his tone that he was very pleased with the level of Aspen's devotion.
America smiled and turned her head so that their noses were touching. "Remember that wall we saw in New Asia after we signed the peace treaty? The really big one?"
"Of course."
"That's what I have around me, because of all of those people you listed and their devotion to me and to this baby. That's what the baby and I have all around us, a great big wall. We're safe."
"Mhmm." The metaphor seemed to sooth him. At any rate, his hold on her was loosened and his breathing was becoming steady again. "Do you know what would help that ancient asian wall of yours even more?"
"Hm?"
"Adding some more people to it."
"More guards?" America winced.
"Your family." Maxon said.
America sighed. "You think that they'd be safer here with all of our guards?"
"And we'd all be safer, because they'd be bringing their guards with them." Maxon added, nodding.
"But… Maxon." America whined. "My mother—"
"It wouldn't be forever. Just until this 'K' person is apprehended or killed." he said, soothingly.
"A lot more dangerous stuff happens at this palace than at their house, you know."
"It doesn't take 'a lot' of dangerous stuff to happen, Ames, it only takes one. One dangerous thing that breaks through the barriers. I refuse to see the day a rebel takes your little sister from you, America. I won't have it, not on my watch."
America closed her eyes, trying to shut out the mental image of May being attacked by a rebel. Of what happened to Lucy happening to May, but worse… "Okay." America relented. "Fine."
Maxon smiled a little, but it wasn't light or carefree. He'd played the sister-card, and it had gotten him what he'd been after, but this was no burden off of his shoulders. "I'll call them tonight, once Gavril lifts the blackout. I'll spare you that particular conversation with your mother."
America pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."
"Are you worried about Kota?" Maxon asked.
"No." America said, shortly.
"Then neither am I."
'Kota'. It had been a while since anyone had brought him up. The name was almost foreign to their ears.
"How soon do you plan on asking them to be here?" America asked, forcing away the specter of her estranged brother.
"Sunday, I'd thought?"
"Sunday." America said, tasting the word. "Okay."
"It'll be nice to have Gerad and May around." Maxon smiled, and it was finally a real, true, happy smile.
"And Kenna and Astra. Kile will be so excited that his playmate is coming to stay."
Maxon sighed, "Finally, a silver lining to this dark, rebel-laden cloud, then."
America wasn't sure just how silver this lining was, but she'd take any win she could get at that point. The idea of her family coming to the Palace to stay safe, but also to put another layer of human shields up between America and the rebels, was unsettling. Even with the rain pattering on the window and Maxon's steady warm breath on her neck, it was hard for America to settle into her nap with the weight of what was at stake pressing so heavily on her mind. She could lose so much more than the amendment, if the rebels had their way. In fact, if the rebels had their way, she could lose everything.