Firstly, I'd like to thank all of you who have been reading this and loving it. Thanks—a lot.

For Katei Moore1, who asked if the king is evil, the answer is no. He isn't. He is stern in hi down way. A grey character. He confuses his role as a father and a king, so he takes matter in his own hands, makjng Maxon see his point the only way he knows (His father, Potter Schreave, and mother Abby Schreave, were the ones due to which he only knew the cruel way of things.) So nay, he isn't evil. Just have a different point of view. You'll get to know more about him in my next story about The Elite from Maxon's points of view.

Happy reading.

I found Mom first thing after excusing myself from the Meeting Room. She was in her room, doing some needle work on her bed, talking with her maid, June. I picked her up and started twirling in circles, waltzing with her on no particular tune.

Distantly I was aware of her maids leaving her quarters, closing the gates.

"Maxon Calix Schreave! Tell me this instant why am I dancing with you?"

"Is your head aching?" I asked, concerned.

"No." She answered, but I caught on to her lie. Even when she was hurting, she tried her best to keep a happy face, with a broad smile. Only those who know perfectly knew how much burden she carried over her shoulder troubled her sometimes.

I made her sit back on her bed and sat in front of her. "The most magical thing happened today!"

"Lemme guess. You came up with something big that impressed the king?"

"Oh! Come on. It wasn't such a hard guess. You could at least play along." I pouted. She laughed and ruffled my hair. I kissed her fingers and told her about the whole scheme. She was smiling by the end of it, completely awed, a few tears gathered in the corner of her eye.

"Sweetie, this is the best you could've done. I'm so proud of you."

My smile quivered a little at her awe. I leaned my head in her lap, holding her tight.

I always thought getting father's approval was important, but I never considered how to get Mom's approval. I never worked for them. But after what America had made me realize, I didn't take any of them for granted.

"What happened, honey?" She finger–combed my hair. "Dumpling?"

"How hard was it for you?" I murmured, thinking about her life as a farmer. Working in the farms. Walking in the market to sell her crops in the weather of Honduragua. "Back when you were a Four."

I knew my maternal family, but only after they all were labelled One as well. I knew little of their before life. Mostly because they all refused to tell me anything about it.

"Why are you asking suddenly, Maxon? Did anything happen?"

"No. But while I was working on this project, I realised many aren't as blessed, as fortunate as us. Even you weren't till you entered the Selection, were you?"

"You tell me first. You weren't ready with any idea and suddenly the huge leap? What made you think?"

I thought about what to tell her. How much. Then threw the caution to wind. I never had any secrets with my mother and wouldn't start having them now.

A knock on the door announced. "Your Majesties, will you both be joining the others for lunch?"

I felt her hair dig in my hair. "No, June. Can you please bring our lunch up?"

She affirmed and went. Alone again, Mom waited for me to answer. But she didn't say anything. If anything, she let me collect my thoughts, the whole time playing with my hair.

It was always like this with her. She was not only my mother, but also my friend. My big sister. My tutor. Everything.

"Well," I murmured, my head still buried sideways in her lap, my hands playing with her red-wine chiffon gown. Here in her lap, I wasn't a prince. Just my mother's boy, still five, only agreeing to sleep in her lap. "There's a girl. America. She's a Five. Out of all the girls, I connect much with her. Maybe because we're friends." I mused, leaving out my feelings. I didn't want to talk about them when even I wasn't sure myself. "She doesn't have any loving feelings towards me, so it becomes easy to talk to her. And she sees me as just a man and not a prince, the way everyone does."

"Well, I was with her today when the meeting was about to start, but didn't feel like going. We started talking and she told me about her experience as a Five. That there were times they'd to choose between food and electricity. Where a nine years old got whipped for stealing food. And I couldn't get the image out of my head. That's where it all started and I worked up as I presented it."

I thought about telling her much, but didn't. The way she ran her fingers through my hair was enough. And I didn't want to spoil the moment by discussing the remnants of the meeting.

There was a knock on the door. "Your Majesties," June said, "I've put your food in the sitting room"

Mom thanked her

"I was a Four," she said, her fingers running continuously through my hair, as if they were the door connecting her to the present. "as you know, but we, your aunt and I, worked under our uncle. We were labelled as Four but did the work of Seven." I breathed in deeply. "That's why I know what a great leap you took, Maxon. You thought about the country, about it's people, and also on the ones who gets neglected the most. I can't be more proud of you, my dumpling."

"You worked as a Seven!" I couldn't get this image out of my mind.

Seeing America working was an image I never wanted to think of anymore, but replacing my Mom...it was revolting.

"Yes. Our uncle was cruel and so we had to work hard to earn our keep." Her voice turned distant as if she was lost in her own memories. "With that amount of work, along with the weather over there, I had constant headaches, which worsened after time."

"That's why..." I couldn't speak. I had no idea. I had my assumptions, but to know they were right...

When she patted my cheek, I felt her fingers rub my skin. "Don't cry, sweetie." I didn't know when I'd started crying. "I got lucky. I was seven since I was in love with your father. Who wouldn't? He was the most eligible bachelor even when he was barely an adult." She laughed once, remembering something. "I used to celebrate his birthdays when Adele slept. I still remember those nights when I thought about meeting him. Then the Selection happened and he chose me. And then, years after I got you." I felt her lips on my hair. "I couldn't ask for any better husband or son, you know."

"Why don't I have any siblings? Is it related to your headaches?" I mumbled, already dreading the answer. If my guess was correct...

She sucked in a breath then exhaled slowly. "Yes. My headaches worsened over the course of time. Clarkson had me checked when I nearly fainted one day. The doctor asked to run some reports. It turned out my ability to carry children wasn't good. I nearly cried myself to death. But he told me it didn't matter to him. That he loved me anyways. And if we aren't blessed with children, then we'll adopt."

"Over the course of time, I had a few miscarriages, but still he was supportive of me. I still remember his words. 'Don't stress over it, my love. It'll be fine. I love you, no matter what. And if you want, I'll even adopt a goddamn pet, but please don't cry, darling.'"

I knew Dad loved Mom. Pretty much. More than anyone else. It outshone in his demeanour. But still it felt good to know about them.

"I thought I loved your father before, but then I realized he loved me even more. Then you happened. I was very weak with you. And mind you, you were a hell of a kicker. My health got worse. Clarkson even suggested we abort it because I couldn't carry you, but I refused. I fought. With my body, with you. For you. And then when you cried for the first time, I told Clarkson this was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. He agreed, too. But said, 'I still prefer your laughter, darling, over my son's cries.' And I cracked up with laughter for the first time after so many days."

A few more tears leaked out of my eyes. Only if things were still the same.

I thought about her hands in my hair. What will she do when she sees my back?

This was a question of which I dreaded the answer already.

Before I could say anything , there was another knock. It was Justin. "Your Majesties?" When Mom announced we were inside, he knocked, asking for permission to enter. She allowed and we both straightened up. She smoothed her gown and went to open the door. Meanwhile I removed the tear lines from my face. "Sir, a few advisors' asked me if they could discuss the project you're working on. They said they had quite good ideas to help and would like to share."

"Yes. I'll join you in—"

"Justin," Mom interrupted, "tell them Maxon is having lunch with me for the moment. And I'm not willing to share him for now. They'll have to wait in line. As you see, he already has a line of beautiful ladies waiting for me."

He laughed so smoothly I barely heard it. "I'll make sure to pass the information."

"Make sure you don't sabotage this piece of news, Justin. I don't want the ladies to come here, knocking on my door..."

"Oh, you two are worse!" They both laughed. "Just go already, Justin."

He chuckled but waved me bye.

"Why didn't you tell me anything before?" I whispered when we were alone again.

She hugged me tight to her chest. "Because you weren't ready. Even if a prince, you're still a boy. Just a handsome, charming boy. My boy." I felt her squeeze my shoulders. "How could I tell you all these?"

"So why now?" I turned my head to look at her. A few tears stuck to her lashes, but she didn't cry. If anything, she seemed even more radiant. "I'm not your boy anymore?" I teased.

She kissed my forehead. "You will always be my little dumpling, sweetheart. No matter what. As of your question. Clarkson always tried to shy you away from the ongoings of our country due to the castes. I knew you wouldn't understand. I guess I underestimated you." She shook her head. "But seeing you wanting to change things, becoming a king...I knew I was just fooling myself by providing many excuses as to why you shouldn't be aware of all these."

"And now with the Selection...Do you like America?"

I blushed at her sudden not-so-subtle question.

"Mom!"

"Look at you, young man. Blushing. Tell me everything. Do you like her?" She gushed.

She wasn't any better than the girls' downstairs.

"I don't know. She's nice, but she doesn't feel any such thing for me."

She laughed. "I guess you'll have to figure it yourself then." We both were silent for a minute. She pushed back and went in the sitting room. When she came back, she had a tray of food in her hands. "Do you want my advice?" I shrugged and helped her put the tray on the bed, arrange it. "Don't think about what-ifs. They'll leave only regrets if not attended to. Just go for it. If it succeeds, you'll find your happiness. If not, you'll find a good story. But both are better options than sitting idly."

I chuckled. "Well, I didn't mean to discuss my Selection with you now, but thanks anyway."

She laughed and kissed my head again. "Here." She showed me a few Crosio items. A handmade bag, a cap, muffler and gloves and a coat she'd stitched for aunt and her family. "I stitched it for your cousins, who are coming in a week. Get ready for your aunt."

"Uh-oh!" I said, mockingly and we both laughed as we ate the lunch.

.

.

.

If I thought I was determined after what America made me imagine, I was even more focused on making it work after discussing it with Mom. I pushed myself into it, making a proper portfolio with all my ideas. The few advisors' who supported me wholeheartedly also helped me.

Dad came to visit me before dinner, and I showed him my ideas. Even narrating it while we walked to the Dining Room. I knew he wasn't particularly fond of this idea, but it was good he didn't reprimand me. He listened to my ideas, nodding everytime.

He patted my back once when we reached the head table. He looked put out, but nodded once. "Oh, goodness, dear ladies, please sit." He gushed, addressing the Selected, and kissed Mom's head once before sitting himself.

But I stood there.

Dad had said before, "As it your project, you will be the one handling it. And also announcing it."

Determined to do it correctly, I flexed my back once. "Ladies, I have an announcement." I said in the voice of a rightful Prince I seldom used.

They all looked at me with surprise.

"I know you were all promised compensation for your participation in the Selection. However, there have been some new monetary allocations. If you are a natural Two or a Three, you will no longer be receiving financing. Fours and Fives will continue to receive compensation, but it will be slightly less than what it has been so far."

"I do apologize for any inconvenience, but I will explain this all tomorrow night on the Capital Report. And this is a nonnegotiable situation. If anyone has a problem with this new arrangement and no longer wants to participate, you may leave after dinner."

I knew the last part was harsh, but it had to be that way.

There was quite a murmur following the announcement, but I didn't pay any heed to it. Instead I sat on my chair, explaining the parts of my project that I'd just thought this noon with the help of others.

He nodded everytime, but it was Mom who was more excited about it. She even gave me a few advises.

For the first time, I felt proud when Dad remained silent for the better part of the dinner.

.

.

.

There were nights I didn't sleep. Afraid if father will come to punish me for my actions.

But tonight, I couldn't sleep because my head was full of so many ideas and what-ifs.

What if people didn't like these ideas? What if they weren't success the way I thought of them. What if the rebel attacks didn't stop? How would tomorrow at Report go?

When I figured sleep was a lost cause, I took my jacket and decided to walk in the garden.

But it didn't help either.

The garden had become our place. It wasn't just mine now. Walking here alone felt like ditching her.

This late, alone in the silence, I could hear all my thoughts with perfect clarity.

What did America meant when she said she wanted to see me? What did I feel for her? Did I just cared for her because I liked her or because my feelings for her ran deeper.

Was she just my friend, or something more?

And the most important question: Could she like me? Love me? Did she?

Shaking my head, and not wanting to answer all those things now, I went in my room again.

Tomorrow was a big day—or was it today?—for me. And I couldn't let anything spoil it.

For tomorrow the whole of Illéa would see not it's Prince, but the future king making it's first decision.

For the ones who couldn't defend themselves.

.

.

.

I was running on my nerves as I dressed for today's Report. Today wasn't about me. I reminded myself. Tonight it will be the ladies who'll be interviewed. I will announce the project and move. Nothing much.

But even I knew it wasn't going to happen that way.

Today was very important. For me. And for Dad, too. He's been excited about it as well as dreading it already. Mom's happiness wasn't helping, either.

I breathed. In. Out. In. Out.

You'll be great. I told myself in the mirror. Don't be nervous!

I breathed once again and left to attend the Capital Report.

The best way to approach would be by not giving much attention to it. Just give it away in the passing. If Gavril announces I have some news...No. It has to be the other way. If he announced, my nerves would fail me.

My speech was already prepared. And so was the project.

My team figured it'd be about New Year by the time the project actually starts. One thing done...

One step at a time.

This time I didn't wait for Mom to come and attend me. It'll only bring my nerves back. So I thought about going to the girls'. They'll be worse than me. At least that'd be something. Talking to America might even help me.

On the first floor, in the Great Hall where the Report usually took place, the stage appeared so different from the last time. Our seats were placed in the corner, whereas the ladies' on the other side. The centre was wholly dedicated to the two chairs for today's interview of the Selected. Even the podium was a little off centre.

Gavril was standing by the corner of the stage, flipping through his notes. Mom and Dad were still about to come, but everybody else were already in their places. A few advisors' even gave me a thumbs up and some mouthed good luck. I nodded at them and went to the ladies'.

I found all the girls' already seated.

And they all wore blue!

So many different shades of blue!

Kriss was wearing something do white it appeared like ice, whereas Celeste was wearing a deep, rich blue shade. Elise in the sky's shade whereas Marlee in a shade of greyish blue.

The only one who stood out was America, who was wearing a red dress. But I didn't focus on her.

I have all of them my equal attention today. I couldn't let America dwindle with my nerves as well.

"Good evening, ladies." They all fretted with their answers in Your Highness and Your Majesties as a chorus. America had some difficulty keeping from a laugh, and I bit my smile back. "Just so you know, I'll be giving one brief announcement" our eyes met once but we quickly looked away. "and then introducing Gavril. It'll be a nice change; he's always introducing me!" They all chuckled when I did so. "I know some of you are probably a little nervous, but you have no need to be. Please, just be yourselves. The people want to know you."

This woman would be the death of me! A few eye contacts with her settled something in me, but stirred something as well. I almost had my nerves again.

Mom and Dad sat on their seats, and I went away after giving a small smile. It was time. Calling over my shoulder "Good luck" to all of them, I reached the podium.

It was time.

Breathe. In. Out.

The cameras focused on me.

Breathe. In. Out.

When the cameraman gave me a thumbs up, I breathed one more time.

The national emblem started. The camera focused on me again. After the song finished, I cleared my throat once.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Illéa. I know that tonight is an exciting night for us all as the country gets to finally hear from the twenty-five remaining women in the Selection. I can't begin to express how excited I am for you to meet them. I'm sure you will all agree that any one of these amazing young ladies would be a wonderful leader and future princess."

"But before we get to that, I'd like to announce a new project I am working on that is of great importance to me. Having met these ladies, I've been exposed to the wide world outside our palace, a world that I rarely get to see. I've been told of its remarkable goodness and made aware of its unimaginable darkness. Through speaking to these women, I've embraced the importance of the masses outside these walls. I have been woken to the suffering of some of our lower castes, and I intend to do something about it."

"It will be at least three months before we can set this up properly, but around the new year, there will be public assistance for food in every Province Services Office. Any Five, Six, Seven, or Eight may go there any evening for a free, nutritious meal. Please know that these women before you have all sacrificed some or all of their compensation to help fund this important program. And while this assistance may not be able to last forever, we will keep it running as long as we can."

"I feel that no good leader can let the masses go unfed. Most of Illéa is comprised of these lower castes, and we have overlooked these people far too long. That is why I am moving forward and why I am asking others to join me. Twos, Threes, Fours … the roads you drive on don't pave themselves. Your houses aren't cleaned by magic. Here is your opportunity to acknowledge that truth by donating at your local Province Services Office."

I paused for a second, giving then time to consider it. "By birth you have been blessed, and it is time to acknowledge that blessing. I will have further updates as this project progresses, and I thank you all for your attention."

"But now, let's get to the real reason you all tuned in tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Gavril Fadaye!"

The claps that followed weren't just for him, I realised.

Some in the ladies were clapping the hardest. Marlee, America, Lucy... But then there were some who weren't.

I didn't contemplate it any more.

Gavril ran to the stage, clearly taken aback by the whole scene. "Thank you so much for that introduction, Your Majesty!" Gavril announced as he ran onto the set. "Very well done! If this whole prince thing doesn't work out, you should consider a job in entertainment."

I laughed aloud, sitting with my parents.

"You did well!" Mom appraised me once I sat, so low for only my ears.

"The speech was very moving. Good work." Dad have my shoulder a firm pat.

I smiled, real. "Thanks.

Even if he wasn't positive about it, I could see that he was impressed by me.

It was more than enough. For now.

"People of Illéa, do we have a treat for you!" Gavril said to the people, standing at the off-centred podium. "This evening we'll be getting the inside scoop from each of these young women. We know you've been dying to meet them and hear how things are coming along with our Prince Maxon, so tonight … we're just going to ask! Let's get started with"—Gavril looked at his note cards—"Miss Celeste Newsome of Clermont!"

"The model." I told Mom.

"She's beautiful." She whispered.

"Of course she is." Father added. "She's the public favourite as well."

I shook my head, not willing to say anything else.

Celeste moved gracefully, even on the steps and on the stage. She kissed Gavril on his cheeks and sat on the centre, loving the attention. Then came Bariel, who behaved as a twin to Celeste. They both tried to be confident, bending forward many times, winking at me, laughing with ease, talking as if chatting with an old friend.

When Tiny approached, she lived to her name. Her voice, posture, everything was tiny. But she did well. Her every answer was honest. It wasn't enough for father. "She can barely hold herself together." He commented. I didn't say anything to defend her. How could I, when he was almost right?

Olivia was good today, though still green. Whereas Emmica and Marlee soon became the highlight of the show by their enthusiasm. Clearly they both were media darlings. Specially the way they answered Gavril's questions. And especially Marlee.

Gavril had asked Olivia, "Had he kissed you?" and the same question to Fiona, Bariel and Samantha as well. They all said no, to which he turned to me, surprised. "Haven't you kissed any of them yet?"

I've never kissed anyone!

"They've only been here two weeks!" I exclaimed, wanting for the nightmare to be over. "What kind of man do you think I am?" But I tensed up. What if he asked me something personal? Like if I ever had a girlfriend before?

Clearly he's come with his homework. Preparing a bunch of questions for the Selected. Like, what did we do, Is there a particular favourite incident of ours. No one answered that as I'd only one meeting with each of them—with just one exception. But two questions are the same for everyone: "What do you think of Prince Maxon?"; and "Are you the girl who yelled at him?"

When Gavril asked them about me, they both have me a wink. Celeste said "He is nice. And so handsome" whereas Bariel said "He is nice. And powerful. Handsome."

Almost every girl says "he is nice" following Celeste.

Tiny said, "he is nice. And so wonderful."

Marlee said. "He likes romance. And he seemed so nice..."

I noticed Mom roll her eyes everytine someone said the word nice.

And as for the second one, clearly Gavril was up to revealing who was that mysterious girl.

Everybody was proud to answer that as a no.

It was nice to seem answer so confidently, but it wasn't enough. Nobody knew me. Even Kriss, who'd always directed the questions at me answered the same. "He is so much nice." Not only their dresses, but also their answers matched for the Report.

How could I choose one when no one wanted to put their efforts in knowing me as well?

"Thank you, Miss Samantha. The next is Miss America Singer of Carolina!"

"Ah!" Mom said, looking at the only bright spot in the ladies.

With her red dress, she outshone others. One who didn't fit in, but wasn't here to fit in actually. It clearly suited her. The red shone in the dim light of the setting, complimenting her red hair. The shimmering dress, which fitted her chest but flowed down her waist in a wonderful skirt with only one sleeve at her right...She looked marvellous. She wasn't wearing any jewellery today, too, but just a small chain and a locket which highlighted her even more.

Hmm...

She wasn't one to impress me...But she'd wore something like that...

When she appeared at the stage, I saw her rub her hands at her gown once. And I almost smiled. She clearly hates spotlight. And when she gets one, she gets a peer-pressure she almost sabotages herself. I wondered what she'd do tonight.

Maybe something I could tease her for later.

When she saw me behind Gavril, I winked. I saw her relax as she picked up microphone and fixed it.

She shook Gavril's hand and sat, more like a girl than a lady. In her own way.

"America Singer. That's an interesting name you have there. Is there a story behind it?" that's what Gavril did—to every girl. Asking them about themselves. But they all weren't themselves when asked. They were behaving like they ought to be.

And because I knew America, I knew it won't go that way. She was herself. And didn't want to win.

"Yes, actually." And she calmed more. "While my mom was pregnant with me, I kicked a lot. She said she had a fighter on her hands, so she named me after the country that fought so hard to keep this land together. It's odd, but to her credit, she was right—we've been fighting ever since."

Gavril laughed. "She sounds like a feisty woman herself."

"She is. I get a lot of my stubbornness from her."

"So you're stubborn, then? Have a bit of a temper?"

I laughed. A bit of temper? It was an understatement.

"Shh." Mom said, smiling herself. "You're going to spoil her. Than maybe you'll have to face her wrath." I almost doubled over at her teasing, I had to cover my mouth from howling.

"Sometimes." America answered.

"If you have a temper, would you happen to be the one who yelled at our prince?"

She sighed for the dramatics. "Yes, it was me. And right now, my mother is having a heart attack."

No! That wasn't enough. "Get her to tell the whole story!" I urged Gavril.

He had to look twice between us. "Oh! What's the whole story?"

She glared at me. On the Report! But it was so funny I had to stifle a laugh again.

"I got a little … claustrophobic the first night, and I was desperate to get outside. The guards wouldn't let me through the doors. I was actually about to faint in this one guard's arms, but Prince Maxon was walking by and made them open the doors for me."

"Aw."

"Yes, and then he followed to make sure I was all right... But I was stressed out, so when he spoke to me, I basically ended up accusing him of being stuck-up and shallow."

Gavril chortled up. And so did I. Looking back at the day...or the evening, it was so funny. Even Mom and Dad laughed with me, finding it funny as well. I could see the other girls laughing as well. Really, our first meeting was so entertaining...

"And he forgave you?" he mused somberly. Almost accusatory.

"Oddly enough."

"Well, since the two of you are on good terms again, what sort of activities have you been doing together?"

"We usually just go for walks around the garden." She shrugged. "He knows I like it outside. And we talk."

This was one thing no one said. We talked. Sure I took them to a place, but there was always an activity for me to indulge in. I never really talked with anyone. Again, with just one exception.

Mom smiled at me at that answer. "I want to hear everything." She mouthed. I rolled my eyes.

"That sounds very relaxing. Would you say the garden is your favourite thing about the palace?"

She smiled. "Maybe. But the food is exquisite, so…" Gavril laughed again.

"You are the last Five left in the competition, yes? Do you think that hurts your chances of becoming the princess?"

"No!" She replied immediately. Without a thought.

But she said she didn't want to fight...

"Oh, my! You do have a spirit there!" He enthused. "So you think you'll beat out all the others, then? Make it to the end?"

"No, no." She explained after a small pause. "It's not like that. I don't think I'm better than any of the other girls; they're all amazing. It's just… I don't think Maxon would do that, just discount someone because of their caste."

She really knew me well. She heard me. Believed me.

The collective gasp disturbed my thought, but I knew it was bound to happen. We were always stripped of our labels when we were together. No labels, no castes, no titles. She always called me Maxon, it was difficult to keep things straight and honest at the same time.

She blushed, though. Embarrassed. I didn't have the faintest clue what was there to embarrass about. If anything, she was the one, the only one, who knew me so well to address me so casually. Like I was her...

"That girl has no manners. The way she sits, the way she said your name." Dad shook his head in disgust.

"Ah, so it seems you really have gotten to know our prince." Gavril said. "Tell me, what do you think of Maxon?"

Ah! Now come the interesting part. What did she think of me? She wasn't here to impress me...but what did she think of me. Not the prince, who is nice, but me.

Did she like me...

I leaned forward to listen to her.

"Maxon Schreave is the epitome of all things good." She murmured, looking at me straight in the eye. "He is going to be a phenomenal king. He lets girls who are supposed to be wearing dresses wear jeans and doesn't get mad when someone who doesn't know him clearly mislabels him."

Her eyes focused on Gavril. But I couldn't take my eyes off her. She really thought I was good. That I'll be a good king. That I wasn't just nice. I was the epitome of good.

"Whoever he marries will be a lucky girl." She continued. "And whatever happens to me, I will be honored to be his subject."

I had to swallow to keep the awe from my face.

I'd always wondered if she hates me as a prince to never look at me like that, but today, the way she said.

Like she liked me. Not the prince or the crown, but me.

If I thought she is beautiful before, it was nothing to how I felt about her in this moment.

Mom said something beside me, but I couldn't focus on her words. Even when America left her seat, my eyes followed hers. And though I tried to focus on the other girls' interview, my gaze remained fixated on hers.

Hers didn't.

She never looked at me after her interview.

I wanted to tug at my ear, but she never looked once.

The relation between Amberly and Maxon was more than a mother-son one. She wasn't just his mother. But also his friend, his first love, his guide, his philosopher and his everything and everyone. He always turned to her when he's confused. So he goes to his mother the first thing so he could tell her everything. He worships her. She is the main reason why Maxon turned to be kind and compassionate even after his father's cruel ways.