Hey ladies! I missed you. I'm so sorry for my very long absence. I have recently reread my copies of The Selection and the Elite for some details, ideas and whatnot and honestly, i still find myself swooning over Maxon and America. 3 anyway, here's a long and eventful chapter for you all. i promise i will follow this up soon. Enjoy!


Everyone in the castle is on their heels trying to get everything ready for the grand ball tomorrow. My mother is beside herself. I doubt I can talk to her for more than a few minutes today. She has everyone running around and getting everything perfect.

As for my father, he's holed up in the office signing cost lists and planning war strategies. I know for a fact that he finds the ball untimely with the impending rebel attack and the ever-raging war in New Asia. As usual, my opinions are static noise for him.

This means I am left with a less-than-Kingly schedule for the day. I am to receive our foreign guests this morning. Next to that is lunch with the family and then a filmed dance practice of America and I. To wrap it all up, we're having the Report tonight.

Frankly, I'd want nothing more than to just get all of these done so I can be married to America. But no. We have to have all these festivities. There are so many complications in being a prince that sometimes make me wish I was a normal citizen instead.

"Maxon, look. Here they come." America's excited voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I look at where she's pointing and I see a convoy of black cars with dark tinted windows that I know holds the royal families from all over the world who have flown in to attend our engagement ball. Everything is set on such a large-scale, you'd think it's already the wedding.

"Is anyone you're close with coming, Maxon? " She asks, looking up at me with those bright blue eyes.

"Well, I guess there's Daphne. And Mikhail, too, though I've only known him for a little while. The others are just faces and titles I usually get mixed up. Why'd you ask?"

"I don't know." She shrugs. "I've always assumed royal children are only close with each other. I now see you guys are isolated even from each other."

I put my hand around her waist and pull her closer. "I think it's just me, Darling. Would you rather our kids be very friendly and sociable?"

"Maxon," she scolds. "What kids? We aren't even married yet."

"There's nothing wrong with planning ahead." I give her a wink and a peck on the cheek and she rewards me with a sweet giggle.

"Well, if it isn't the lovebirds." We both turn to see Mikhail beaming at us. I would recognize his thick accent anywhere. I'm still a little edgy around him because of his closeness to America the last time he visited. "It seems my little trick last time worked, eh?"

America laughs beside me and I can only laugh along. I shake hands with Mikhail and he kisses America's hand, a little too long for my liking though. This is what I mean.


We continue to exchange pleasantries with everyone. Nicoletta is also here and would have dragged America to chat had I not stopped her politely. America is such a hit with everyone. I wonder why she was ever scared or doubtful about being a queen. She obviously makes a great princess and eventually, a great queen.

"Maxon. Duke Rolland just asked you a question?" America says as she softly nudges me. I should really stop spacing out. "Pardon, Sir Rolland?"

"I was asking about King Clarkson and Queen Amberly, Your Majesty. They've always been the ones to accept us here. I would have wanted to extend my gratitude to them for letting us stay over."

"Oh, don't mention it Sir. It is our pleasure to have you here. As for my parents, I'm afraid they're occupied at the moment, with the ball tomorrow. They'll be with you this dinner though."

We shake hands as he leaves. I am finally shaking the last hand for this morning. I am hungry, I can't wait for lunch. America and I hold hands as we walk inside. "You're very pensive lately, Maxon. Is something wrong?"

I look over at her. Oh my America. Her face is etched with concern, it's adorable. "I'm fine. I just want to get all this over with and marry my Lady America." I give her a quick peck on the cheek, feeling brave today. We smile at each other for a while. "How about we get some lunch, my dear?"

"Maxon," she chastises, "I told you not to call me that."

"Lady America, I believe it has already been established that you are the dearest to me."

"How about we stick to darling?"

"That sounds good too. Whatever makes my lady happy." I offer her my hand and we walk to lunch.


The ball is everything it has promised to be and more. It is even grander than the Halloween party I threw a few months back. I can certainly say that all of America's hard work paid off. I just can't wait to see her. I have asked Mother and she keeps telling me that my America is still getting ready. I get fidgety almost at once. My eyes dart to the grand staircase, exposing my anticipation of her arrival.

"What are you doing?" I hear a familiar voice behind me. I turn and see Daphne. She has a wine glass in her hand and she looks like she'd rather be anywhere but here. I couldn't care less about her enjoyment.

"Oh, it's you." I reply rather blankly.

She chuckles. I roll my eyes. "You've been staring at the staircase for so long, I thought you're willing it to swallow you up. If you want to leave so bad, just go."

"On the contrary, Daphne, I am far from wanting to leave. I'm just waiting for my fiancée who makes all of this worth staying for." The band stops and I know she is here.

"Well here she is now." Daphne says sourly, her eyes looking past me.

I turn and my world seems to slow down. I take in my America's appearance slowly, making sure I remember everything about her tonight. She is such a breathtaking sight. Her red hair frames her beautiful face in soft curls that suits her very well. I have always America's simple aesthetic. I love that she looks so natural and raw and beautiful. And her dress… wow. She looks like she's wearing something that might as well be her wedding gown. It's a cream-colored strapless gown with a bow at the top. It fans out from her thighs down.

I stay oblivious to the crane in my neck as I keep my eyes glued to my beautiful America. She has her shy smile on and it makes me fall even more in love with her- something I didn't know was possible until tonight. She looks around the room, probably taking in the grandeur around her. She should be proud of the way this ball turned out.

It takes me a moment to notice a slight tap on my shoulder. I almost jump as I hear my mother whisper in my ear, "A gentleman doesn't make a lady wait, Maxon." And with that, I regain my senses and hastily go to my girl. She finds me as I maneuver through the crowd to get to her. Our eyes lock as I climb the stairs to where she is.

"I'm nervous, Maxon."

"Don't be. I'm right here."

"But there are so many people."

"No, darling. It's just you and me tonight, ok?"

She gives me a shy nod. We make our way down as people take notice of our arrival… well, America's arrival.


"You just know how to render me speechless, Lady America."

"And how and when did I exactly do that, Prince Maxon?"

"Feeling polite tonight, are we? Well, let's see. There's the kick to the groin, my first kiss, looking so beautiful tonight... the list goes on, my Lady."

"Well, keep taking note. I intend to add to that list for a little while more."

We both smile at each other. Just then, Silvia gives us our cue as the host announces our dance. I see a flash of doubt cross America's face and she gives my hand a squeeze.

"Hey, are you nervous?" I ask her gently, hoping to appease her.

"Is it that obvious? What if I fall flat on my face, Maxon? In front of everybody! Oh goodness." She covers her face with her hands.

I try to pry her hands away from her beautiful face. "Hey, listen to me. Just hold on to me. Okay? As long as you hold on to me, we can do anything." I look deep into her eyes as she tries to dissect the meaning of my sentence. But she brushes it away and flashes me a disarming smile.

"Don't let go, okay?" She says cheerfully as every bit of tension leaves her.

I give her the sweetest, gentlest kiss I can. I pull away all too soon and grab her hand as we walk to the center of the dance floor as rehearsed. The dying down of the applause marks the start of our dance.

Our dance is mostly waltz with a little hint of tango which makes it all so sexy. America, despite her anxiety earlier, moves with so much grace and poise. Although, she steps on my foot once and I try to mask a grunt of pain with a slight cough. She gives me an apologetic smile. I reciprocate her smile to let her know I'm okay even though I can still feel the stab of her heeled shoe on my toes.

Our dance ends all too soon. America moves to leave but I hang on. "Can I have another one? No pressure this time." She consents and we dance.

My father cuts in, asking for a dance with America which I reluctantly give leave to. With my father and America dancing, I go find my mother to take my mind off them. I locate my mother talking animatedly with Queen Jeanine, Daphne's mother. "Excuse me, Your Majesty but may I take my mother from you for a little dance? Her son misses her you see." The ladies give me a chuckle and my mother takes my hand.

"How are you tonight, son?"

"I'm wonderful, actually. I just can't wait for all of this to be over?"

"Eager to be Illea's king?"

"No, just excited to be America's husband. That's all."

My mother gives me one of her rare carefree laughs. She looks at me with such care. "You have grown so much over this. How do you feel? The Selection is done, Maxon."

It takes me a moment to let her words sink in. Wow. The Selection is done. I have been so caught up in everything that I didn't realize it. I flash my mother a huge grin. I did it, I actually did it.

I recall everything that happened over the Selection, the balls, the ladies, especially Marlee, Kriss and Celeste. So much has happened and with my running away with America, the Selection just seems like years ago now.

The room falls silent as I hear a soft clink of metal spoon to glass goblet. I follow everyone's gaze to Lord Brutus of Sumner. I tense as soon as I remember something- America's secret meeting with that man, Oreus. I can't quite shake the feeling that something is wrong. She still hasn't said a thing to me about it even though she mentioned my involvement.

At the corner of my eye, I see movement. I abruptly look and see America moving to my side just as my father returns to his seat beside my mother's. America scoots as close to me as she could. Her eyes, so blue and cold, show apprehension.

"Is something wrong?" "No, nothing," she replies absentmindedly. I hold her hand. They are cold as ice.

Lord Brutus coughs and starts with his speech.

"The Selection has long been a precious tradition of our beloved country, Illea. It presents our lovely local beauties for all of Illea and the world to see and admire. And at the same time, it helps hone our prince's abilities and principles in all aspects of his life. Needless to say, it is there not only to help a young couple in their quest of love but also to refine the future of Illea. And I am happy to say, the Selection has not failed to deliver."

The crowd claps and cheers for their beloved king and queen. He raises his glass to my parents and they raise theirs in reply.

"And so, I propose a toast for another success of our Illean tradition, the Selection. It has led our dear Prince Maxon and his Lady America to each other. Cheers!"

And with that, the whole room bursts into cheers, claps and all other forms of well-wishing. But it didn't take me more than a second to hear the gunshot that silenced the crowd just as quickly as it had emboldened.

Everyone is paralyzed with shock and unable to move. As I turned to look for the receiving end of the shot, gunshots rained upon the whole ballroom. Everyone panics, running in fear for their lives and loved ones. And yet, here I am planted on my feet and unable to move.

I feel a tug in my hand and see America's teary-eyed look. My eyes are focused on only one part of the room. I am suddenly forced to stoop down and take cover under a table. It must have been America who pulled me.

"Maxon, I'm sorry." What? She keeps on crying her eyes out. I need you to come with me. I swear I didn't know they would do this much. I'm so sorry."

I honestly do not understand what my America is crying about. All I can think of is my mother, on her knees screaming and holding her husband's body as if it's the most precious thing she'll ever have- my father, lifeless and bloody.