I don't own The Selection.

i hope this chapter is acceptable! i had to rewrite it a couple times because it wasn't working out the way i wanted to.. have a good day! stay safe and i love all of you!

The next couple of weeks flew by as if we were in a time machine. I had little to no free time, and I only got to see America at night. I typically ate in my office, where I'd have a short ten or fifteen minute break in between meetings. Osborne sometimes made visits, but only stayed for a short period of time.

The reason I was so overwhelmingly busy was that I was trying to handle everything going on with the rebels while also trying to change the laws. It wasn't as easy of a task as I had hoped it would be. It absorbed every minute of my day and I could never get my mind off of it.

Rebels had started planting attacks closer and closer to the palace each day. My job right now was to delay the one final attack for as long as I possibly could. If I didn't, it could be as fatal as the last attack in which my parents had died. The death count was creeping closer and closer to two hundred people every two days. That, my friends, was bad.

Each night, I only got around three to four hours of sleep each night, leaving my brain foggy each morning. Most of the time I depended on coffee to get me through each day. I was slowly getting more short-tempered with each day that passed. It took a lot of effort for me to keep myself calm.

Tonight was no different. I got back to our room at around three in the morning and fell asleep in my suit. I ended up waking at around six, meaning I had thirty minutes to prepare for my first meeting of the day. America emerged from the bathroom and sat down beside me on the bed, stopping me from getting up as I had originally planned.

"You're taking a few hours off." She stated and took my shoes off for me.

"Ames, I can't." I protested. "The rebels are still backing me up into a corner. I'm not going to let them attack us again."

"You haven't had nine hours of sleep in weeks, Maxon!" She snapped. "I don't care what the rebels are doing right now. You aren't taking care of you!"

"You're right. I have a country to run. That's my priority right now." I said rudely, taking my suit off so I could replace it with a new one.

"Maxon, I'm not letting you go." She crossed her arms.

I glared at her. "I don't need your permission. I'm in charge of a country. Millions of people depend on me, America."

"Why are you acting like this?" She asked, gesturing to me. "You'll work better with sleep, Maxon!"

"Sleep is a waste of time."

"So is working yourself to death."

"Leave me alone," I pleaded.

"Not when your job is tearing us apart. Again." She snapped. "I haven't spent more than ten minutes with you in the last five weeks. Don't tell me to leave you alone."

"I'm going to work."

"You're staying with me."

"My God, America! I'm going to work. I have a country to run." I yelled.

"A country that is obviously more important than me." She yelled back. "I don't even know why I married you."

"Neither do I!" I snorted, throwing the lamp from my bedside table onto the ground and knocking everything off of my dresser. It caused quite a crash, I'll admit.

"Maxon?"

"Get out! Get out!" I yelled, mirroring the same tone my Father had once used.

"You're acting like him," America whispered as she gathered Osborne in her arms and left me alone in the room.

I got dressed and left, going straight to my first meeting. Osborne didn't try to follow me, which was good. America needed him more than I did right now.

I sat down in my chair and began the meeting. Aspen and Carter shot me weird looks, as if they knew what had just happened. I kept my mind off of the fight with America by immersing myself in my work completely.

At noon, I was ambushed in my office by August, Aspen, and Carter. They actually looked furious. I had a feeling that America had told them about this morning.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Aspen scolded me.

"Maxon, America came to us in tears. She's scared of you." August frowned.

"She thought you were going to hit her!" Carter yelled.

I let my head fall to my desk, and covered it with my arms. I hadn't meant to yell at her or throw those things. At the moment, I was seriously debating on throwing myself out of my office window. America was scared of me.

"What's going on with you?" Aspen asked in a demanding tone.

"I wasn't going to hit her," I whispered. "I just lost it. I- I.."

"She told us what happened," Carter said, sitting down.

"Where is she?" I asked quietly. "Is she okay?"

"She's with Marlee, Lucy, and Georgia. I think Mary found out too." August explained. "She showed up soon after America arrived."

Aspen threw a pencil at me, getting my attention. "You really should take a day off."

"I can't, Aspen." I said. "What if the rebels get here and we can't stop them? What if they kill everyone I care about and myself included? What if they take America from me?"

"They won't, Maxon." Carter assured me.

"And now she hates me," I groaned and banged my head against the desk.

"I think if you go talk to her, she'll calm down." Aspen suggested.

"I'll try it." I said.

I found her in Marlee's room, crying profusely. Mary was in fact here, along with Lucy, Georgia, Kenna, May, and Magda. Oh God. The whole family. I even saw James, which really terrified me.

I really had a death wish, didn't I?

I debated on turning around, but I stopped myself. If I avoided it, then it would only be more dreadful to think about. I forced my legs to carry me into the room, where I was met with everyone's furious glares.

"Get out, Maxon." Marlee demanded.

"I wanted to apologize," I assured her, and she narrowed her eyes at me.

"Well?" Georgia asked.

America was holding Osborne. Her eyes were red and it was obvious that she had been crying for a while.

"America, I'm sorry. I don't know why I blew up like that. You don't have to forgive me, because I honestly wouldn't forgive me either. I— I love you," I said and walked back out into the hallway.

I made my way back to my office and sat down in the desk chair. I twisted my wedding band around in circles on my finger, trying to imagine what I'd be doing if I had just listened to America. I'd probably be beside her in bed.. dozing off while I listened to her talk. I longed for that.

I couldn't believe that I had yelled at her like that. It had been almost a year since we'd had our last fight, so it should have been expected. But I didn't want to fight with her.

I wanted spontaneous trips to the garden. Midnight runs to the kitchen. I wanted to wake up to her voice everyday. I wanted to be the reason she smiled, the reason she laughed. I wanted her, and all of her.

But most importantly, I wanted her to be happy, and if that was without me, then I'd find a way to survive. However, I was too selfish to let her go. Without her, what would I do?

I folded my arms on my desk and laid my head down. I was exhausted. Within minutes, the background around me was fading away.

"Maxon?" America asked softly, pulling me back into consciousness.

"Ames," I said, hoarsely. "I'm so sorry."

She lowered herself into my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. I buried my face in her hair, overcome by the familiar smell of her shampoo. Her hand found its way into my hair and twirled strands of hair, just like she did before my hair had been cut.

"I'm sorry I said those things, Max." She whispered. "I'm married to you because I love you. You make me happy."

"You don't have to apologize," I said. "I shouldn't have blown up like that. I'm just tired.. exhausted, really. I should have listened to you. I'm taking the rest of the day off."

"I forgive you, Maxon. I love you." She said, pulling back to lean her forehead against mine.

My eyes instinctively closed and I felt myself drifting off to sleep. America nudged me and pulled me up from my chair within seconds.

"That tired, huh?" She laughed.

I nodded weakly. "Mhm,"

"Think you can make it back to our room?"

Again, I nodded.

We walked back to our bedroom, hand in hand. I opened the door for America and she immediately began taking off her dress and putting on her pajamas, which were actually just clothes of mine that she had stolen.

I took off my suit and replaced it with a t-shirt and cotton pajama pants. We climbed into bed after turning off the lights, though the room was still bright. It was probably around one or two in the afternoon. Definitely a strange time to go to sleep, but who would care? I'd done my work for the day.

It appeared that Mary had cleaned up the mess I had made earlier. The dresser was once again organized and looking just as it once had. My lamp, on the other hand, was probably in a garbage can somewhere. I'd have to replace it soon.

We laid on our sides, facing one another. I reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as gently as possible. She scooted closer to me and leaned her forehead against mine, so we were looking into each other's eyes.

"Thanks for forgiving me," I whispered and closed my eyes. "I would have hated to sleep in an empty bed."

"Me too," She laughed. "You're a good heater."

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Love you."

"I love you too, Maxon." She promised as I fell asleep, slipping away from reality.

"Ozzy!" America laughed as the door opened and our beloved dog ran into the room.

I believe he had been with one of our friends while America and I had taken time off work. It was incredibly kind of them to watch him for us, especially when they didn't have to.

He lunged into our bed, using the small box we had put on the floor as a stool to help him get up onto it and attacked us with dozens of dog-kisses, licking our faces one at a time. Once he was content, he pushed himself between us and laid down. America rubbed his head while I turned my attention to Marlee, Aspen, and Lucy, who were standing in the doorway.

"There's the happy couple we know!" Marlee laughed.

"Yesterday was just a bad day," America grinned.

"I think Osborne was more upset over it than you two were," Aspen said. "That dog loves you."

"Who doesn't?" I smirked.

America whacked me with a pillow. "Watch your ego there, Mr. Schreave."

"Yes ma'am," I said in defeat.

Osborne was staring up at us, as if he was confused. I mean, in his perspective, we were hitting each other but still happy. That had to look weird to a dog.

"Yeah, Ozzy. Better get used to their weirdness." Lucy warned.

"We aren't weird!" America protested.

"Yeah, right." Aspen said sarcastically.

"Are you guys coming to lunch?" Marlee asked.

I shook my head. "We're going to eat up here."

"Got it. Maxon, I hate to tell you but you have a mandatory meeting at two." Aspen frowned.

"Mandatory?" I asked. I didn't have many mandatory meetings. They were actually quite rare.

"That's all Stavros told me," He shrugged and waved as the three left us alone.

Osborne whined, and I guessed it was because we had stopped petting him. I bent down and pressed my face into his warm fur, making him wriggle and climb into my lap. I welcomed him happily into my lap and rubbed his belly. He laid on his back and held his front legs out as if he were trying to walk upside down.

America got up and went to retrieve one of his toys. She dangled it in front of him and he pawed at it, frantically trying to grab it. He was very unsuccessful but continued to try anyway. I had to say; he had the most determination I had ever seen in a dog.

"You two are adorable." America said as she willingly gave the toy over to Ozzy. He barked happily and turned back over so he could chew on it.

"He's getting bigger, Ames." I groaned. Osborne was around four or five months old now, meaning he was starting to get much bigger. When we stood next to each other, he was almost as tall as my knee.

"That's because he's still a puppy," She laughed and kissed me. "He's like a big baby."

"I'm not letting him grow up." I decided.

Osborne barked enthusiastically and knocked the toy around on the bed, using his paws. When he was done, he returned to our sides and sat down. He turned his head between the two of us and barked again.

"Ozzy, your dad is being overprotective," She sighed and booped his nose. "What are we gonna do with him?"

He howled in response and both America and I broke out in fits of laughter. He turned his nose up and jumped off the bed, going to get some water. America turned to me once we had calmed down and lunged at me, knocking me over.

Mary came by and brought us lunch. She studied us for a moment. I guess she was deciding on whether or not we had made up. We ate slowly, taking our precious time. I was dreading the mandatory meeting this afternoon. Nothing mandatory could be good.

I escaped her hold and got up. "I need to get ready. It's almost one thirty."

"Oh, come on." She groaned. "Are you taking Ozzy with you?"

"No, I think he'd like to stay with you today. I don't know how long I'll be gone for."

"Well, you better be back here tonight." She said.

"I will," I assured her and gave her a kiss before going to take a shower.

When I was done with my five minute shower, I got dressed with the help of Justin, who perfected my suit. America demanded that I wear her favorite blue tie, so I did. I brushed my hair and my teeth, so that I was now presentable.

"You look very kingly." America said as Justin adjusted my tie length.

"Thanks," I grinned. "Justin? You and Mary are together, correct?"

"We are, sir." He answered.

"That's so cool!" America said giddily. "Your head butler and my head maid are married."

"And very happy, ma'am." Justin added.

"I'm glad it's working out," I said.

"You two are perfect together." America decided.

The mandatory meeting was really just a discussion on how we would defend ourselves against the rebels. After a long conversation with Stavros, I decided that we would double the security at the palace. At every entrance and exit, there would be two extra guards. Windows on the first two floors would be kept locked and America and I were not to be without a guard at any time.

It was necessary or I wouldn't have done it. The rebels were closer to the palace than they once had been. I believe Stavros had said that from the palace and their last attack site, there were only fifteen miles between them. They were traveling faster now.

One thousand people in total had been murdered, leaving me with hundreds of grieving families. This was officially the worst year of my reign yet. It looked as if the country was dying slowly, and people looked to me as the reason for it. My approval ratings were dropping like flies. In the press, citizens were advising America to leave the monarchy before she had no other choice than to give up her life as my parents had.

I dismissed the men just before dinner, which I decided to skip. In fact, I had no appetite at all. Instead, I went to my room and slept. Skipping one meal wouldn't hurt me.

Unfortunately, I had to give an update on the Report tonight, so I was woken a few hours later by Justin. He informed me that America was with Mary. I smoothed my suit and headed down to the recording studio, where I was handed a speech.

I sat down and read over it at least five times. It was basically flawless. All I had to do was present it to the country flawlessly. That was—as I had learned overtime—an impossible task.

"You're going to do fine," America assured me.

"One thousand people are dead, Ames. One thousand. Each person had a family. Friends. Maybe they had kids, a partner." I snorted.

"It wasn't your fault." She stated truthly.

I shook my head. "You're right. But it is my fault that I haven't stopped the rebels by now."

"And now, King Maxon!" Gavril said, drawing my attention back to the stage.

I stood, gathered my speech, and walked out on stage. At the podium provided, I set the papers down and began reciting them. I added my own touches every so often in an attempt to make it sound less robot-like and more human-like.

"Hello, Illéa." I said gravely. "As you may or may not already know, the Southern Rebels have been making fatal attacks for weeks now. Specifically, since Christmas Eve. As a result, one thousand innocent lives have been lost at the hands of these rebels."

I told the country about my not only plans to honor the lives lost, but my plan to put a stop to the attacks altogether. The speech didn't go into full detail, so neither did I. Telling them wouldn't help. It would only give the rebels—who we assumed were watching—more information that could potentially decrease our chances of stopping them. That wasn't what we wanted.

As it was coincidentally a Friday, America and I were being interviewed tonight. We took our places on the couch and the cameras cut back on. Gavril gave us small smiles and began the script.

"Your Majesties, it's great to have you both back on the show." He said.

America smiled brightly. "Well, thank you for inviting us back."

"Did I have much of a choice, ma'am?" He said and turned to the cameras with an eyebrow raised.

"Not really," She laughed.

"I have to ask, Your Majesties," Gavril paused for a dramatic effect. "Will we be expecting a royal baby anytime soon?"

"I tell you, we've gotten that question at least once a week." America sighed. "But no. No babies anytime soon. It's a little too soon for that."

The interview continued with him asking us about our lives, which we mainly came up with interesting things to say despite the fact that our days were very repetitive. He asked us about any plans for kids, how the married life was, and other things completely unrelated to the ongoing political situations. It was rather nice to have a break from everything that my job dealt with.

We retreated back to our bedroom, in which Osborne was waiting for us on the bed. I went to the bathroom before anything. I had to take the makeup off that was used to cover the dark circles underneath my eyes and change into my pajamas. It was an uncomfortable substance but very useful when you didn't want millions of people knowing how exhausted you were.

When I left the bathroom, America was sprawled out on the bed asleep. She seemed to have changed into her pajamas already. I guessed that she was about as tired as I was. I sat down next to her and pulled the blanket over us both.

Ozzy was laying in his bed, observing our every move. He gave a sigh and closed his eyes.

The next morning, I woke up with a horrible headache. It felt like someone was hitting me in the head with a hammer every two or three minutes. I pushed through and got ready for work after taking an aspirin to help with my head. I wasn't going to take a day off of work just because of a headache.

The first few meetings were bearable, however there were times when I had accidentally been clutching my head in my hands without realizing it. The pain picked up during the middle of my fifth meeting for the day. I actually had to leave for a moment because of it.

I suffered through the rest of the meeting, ignoring the weird looks I was getting. I was now feeling like I had a fever. My body was unusually hot and I just felt sickly in general. There wasn't really a way to describe it. I mainly felt like I had been hit by a semi-truck.

Once in the privacy of my office, I laid my head down on my desk. The door opened, which got my attention. Aspen, Carter, and August entered, all looking fairly concerned.

"You don't look so good," August observed.

"I don't feel so good, either." I admitted.

"This is a bad time to be getting sick," Aspen frowned. "You think it's a cold?"

I shrugged. "Only if it's normal to feel like you've been hit by a truck,"

"You think you can make it through the rest of the day?" Carter asked.

"Do I have much of a choice?" I snorted, resulting in me breaking into a fit of coughs. "I'll go see a doctor tonight, but for now I can suffer."

And so I did. The next five meetings were absolutely horrible. My throat felt like it was burning and my head hadn't calmed down at all. When it was all over, I made a beeline for the hospital wing.

Dr. Ashlar welcomed me into his office and I told him all of my symptoms. Sore throat, fatigue, body aches, severe headaches, dizziness, chills. He immediately diagnosed me with the flu, which meant I needed to take at least a few days off work so I'd recover quickly.

Reluctantly, I agreed and took the medicine he handed me. The headache was already fading by the time I had gotten back to our bedroom. America was waiting for me, as I had expected.

"So," She frowned. "What's your diagnosis?"

"I have the flu," I grunted and took my suit off. "Meaning I can't go to work for a few days."

"I can cover for you." She assured me.

America

When I walked into the meeting room on Monday, the room full of men basically stared at me like I was some kind of alien. I sat down at the head of the table and looked towards Stavros, who looked equally confused.

"Your Majesty," He nodded.

"Stavros." I said. "I'm covering for my husband today."

We had kept Maxon's illness a secret, as if the entire palace knew, they'd probably freak. Especially with the risk of rebels attacking at any moment. When the king was down, they considered the country to be down as well. That wasn't happening on my watch.

"Will His Majesty be joining us?" Some old guy asked hopefully.

"No," I said. "But you will treat me exactly like you treat Maxon. He's given me full permission to fire anyone in this room."

"He's slacking," A man with platinum blond hair muttered.

"Actually, he has the flu." I corrected him. "Are you going to tell me what's going on in the country or are you going to judge me because I'm a woman?"

Stavros smirked. "We've received intel that the rebels are once again on the move, ma'am. They've made two more attacks during the night. Only seven people were killed, making them much less fatal. There are only ten miles between the palace and the locations."

"They're backing down?" I said.

"It could be a game." Aspen said. "They could be making it look that way, ma'am, so when they do attack it will be much more.. fatal."

"Do we know their targets?"

"We believe their targets are both you and His Majesty, ma'am." Stavros confessed.

Maxon really couldn't have gotten sick at a worse time, could he? The illness was only lowering his chances of being strong enough to escape the rebels. What happened if he had to run? Right now, he was so sick that he could barely talk without hacking his lungs out.

"And with no heir, it would make an assassination easier." I realized. "Lovely."

"Correct, ma'am." Carter nodded.

"What do we do? Having a baby obviously would be useless right now. For all we know, it could be a girl." I sighed.

"Maxon hasn't told you?" August asked bluntly.

"Told me what?" I asked.

"Nothing." He quickly said.

"August, I'm ordering you to tell me what it is my husband is doing behind my back." I said firmly.

August shifted in his chair but gave in. "He's changing the inheritance laws, ma'am."

I was taken aback. Maxon had told me that changing the inheritance laws was a huge task and basically impossible, yet he was going to do it anyway? When had he been planning to tell me? I wasn't mad or anywhere near it, but I was just shocked. He was willing to go that far for a daughter we may not have.

The rest of the meeting went by smoothly. Stavros filled me in on how far Maxon had gotten with the laws, which was actually much farther than I expected. The thing was like a sticky vine, but somehow, they were working through it and making much progress. Apparently the document that would have the power to change the laws was currently being crafted. It would then have to be perfected, edited, and changed before Maxon would be able to sign it.

When I got back to our bedroom—which I absolutely adored—Maxon was rubbing Osborne's head gently. He was much, much paler than usual and looked a little sweaty. It was obvious that he not only was sick but felt horrible.

"Hey," He grinned when he saw me.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"Worse than yesterday, but I'll be fine."

"Maxon," I said gently. "I found out about the inheritance laws."

He made a face. "Are you mad?"

"Of course not! You're making it so that we don't have to marry our daughters off like cattle!" I exclaimed. "But when were you going to tell me?"

"Well," He said quietly. "I was going to tell you later into the process. It could take a year or two to do, so I was thinking of telling you around Christmas."

I crawled over to him on the bed and caressed his cheek. "I love you so much it scares me,"

"Yeah, same here." He laughed, making him give a dry cough.

Maxon

The third day was the worst day of the sickness.

My throat wasn't functioning, limiting me to whispering. America visited me between meetings to tell me about what was going on, which was very helpful. Though I was sick, I wasn't completely uninformed.

I slept most of the time. It distracted me from how I felt. Osborne rarely left my side, and when he did it was to either get food, a toy, or go to the bathroom. He was incredibly loyal to both of us.

Dr. Ashlar made occasional visits to check up on how I was doing. He told me that the worst of the flu would soon be over and I'd be on the road to recovery within hours. My fever was high at the moment, my throat burned, and my head pounded. I didn't feel like I'd be any better soon.

I could tell that no one was very happy about me getting sick, but it wasn't exactly a choice I had made. The rebels were getting closer each day. An hour ago, I was told that they were around seven miles away now. At five miles we'd be locking the palace down entirely. No one would be able to enter or exit. At two miles, we'd be in a safe room.

The tension was rising constantly. With me being sick and unable to work, America—who had never done my job for me before—was on her own for the most part. She had never had any sort of experience with the kind of work she was being faced with now, but she luckily had Stavros and the rest of my advisors to guide her.

America had mentioned to me that if the country knew about the king being sick at a time like this, they'd be scared for their lives. How would a sickly king defend his people? He wouldn't. Not to the best of his ability anyways. That was why we were keeping my health a secret altogether.

On the fourth day, the rebels were three miles away. We were now in lockdown. My condition had slowly begun to improve. I had a less severe fever and my headache was fading slowly. My throat still burned, I was exhausted, and my body still ached.

America was still attending my meetings for me. She had started taking notes so she wouldn't leave anything out. It was an act I was very grateful for.

Dr. Ashlar continued making visits. He told me that I was getting better much quickly than expected, which was good news to me. Soon, I wouldn't have to miss many more meetings.

The fifth day was one of the better days. My fever had lowered a degree and I was getting much better. America was still giving me daily reports on the rebels, who were still three miles away. She told me that everyone was getting restless at this point.

That didn't surprise me. I was restless too. Knowing that there would be an attack that could potentially kill me was stressful. Much more stressful than I had imagined.

On the sixth day, however, everything went wrong. Though I was almost completely healthy, and my fever had broken, the day got much worse.

The day was a warm one. It was sunny outside. The sky was entirely blue without the smallest trace of clouds. It was beautiful, but still. Too still. There were no usual calls of birds, no sounds at all. It was silent.

Silent until the rebel siren broke out, screaming at the top of it's lungs. Guards rushed into my room and helped me up, before demanding that I get to the safe room. I ran. And ran. My lungs burned to a new extreme. The stairs had never been so annoying until now.

There were gunshots and screaming. That's all I really remember.