All rights to Kiera Cass. This book is designed to make story edits that largely follow the original plot. So even in the edited parts it is often largely Cass's writing.
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Author's note 1: I couldn't help posting two chapters today (this is the second for today). Besides I am itching to get to chapter 27!
Author's note 2: It is one of the moments we have all been waiting for...
*Long chapter notice*
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(Edit)
CHAPTER 26
I WOKE UP TO THE SOUND of someone gasping. Maxon and I sat straight up and locked eyes with Lucy.
"Sorry My Lady." She said walking backwards out of the room.
Maxon and I looked at each other in shock until finally he spoke up, "I guess we fell asleep." And finally the tension dissolved into laughter.
"Do you think if we are going to accidentally fall asleep again we could choose a more comfortable position?" I asked half jokingly. "My back is killing me." I reached up to try and get the knot out of my back but Maxon met my hand.
"It's really the least I can do." I nodded and he began working out the knot, "My mom used to get the worst back aches when I was a child. My father always refused to massage it for her, saying we had maids for that. But she explained to me that it wasn't just about the massage. It was about showing someone you loved that you would be there to support them. I told her that I loved her and wanted to help her with her pain, so she would let me massage the knots out of her back. Over the years I've gotten better. So, if I massage it just like….that I think that should feel better."
I rolled out my shoulders and I don't think they ever worked that well. Suddenly it sunk in, did that mean Maxon loves me? Sure he probably meant as a friend, but something about that made me feel more settled in our friendship. "Much better." I answered, "And you?" It was a simple question but he knew what I meant.
"Much. Even with all the advisors, no one reminds me that I can do it. Well except my mother, but I feel with my being so close to inheriting the throne that I shouldn't have to go to my mother for reassurance." He looked so torn, and I wanted to take his pain away. He looked me directly in the eye and nudged me, "But knowing" He sang a little, "'I got a friend in you' makes it all the better."
I smiled and couldn't help running my hand through his messy hair just to tease him, "You know I always thought gravity pushed things down, but your hair may have other ideas."
"Ah well you…." I watched him look over me trying to come up with a come back. "Oh that's not fair."
"What?"
"You literally look perfect. Not a stray hair out of place, or a glazed look in your eye." I looked into the mirror. I actually did look surprisingly good for just waking up.
"Okay, but that's not normal." I commented. "My hair usually looks more like this." I flipped my hair around about making sure to get some in front of my face. "And the look on my face is never this joyiss." I added making my face pouty.
"Ah yes." he paused thinking of a comeback, "You know I always thought yetis were mythical creatures, but atlas." I broke out laughing and Maxon moved my hair back out of my face. "However, no one ever told me they were so beautiful."
Maxon had made comments like this before, but this was the first time it wasn't in the late of night. I responded without much thought, "And gravity defying does suit you quite well." Eyes locked, butterflies rise, break. It was almost a tradition at this point.
When I broke eye contact I looked at the clock. "Maxon! Breakfast has already started."
He looked at the clock too then replied, "I have to go My America, but I'll see you at the meeting." He got up our hands lightly falling out of each others. I wished, hoped, this wouldn't be the only time I woke up with Maxon beside me.
My maids came in and I tried to explain we simply fell asleep, but I wasn't sure they believed me. They were able to get me put together fairly quickly but even then I only caught the end of breakfast. The meeting was nothing out of the ordinary and when I was coming down the stairs towards the women's room I saw Aspen. Aspen I had to talk to him….for two reasons. And emotions would have to wait.
"Hey." I said quietly in passing. "I need to talk to you."
He paused and thought for a moment. "At two, go to the end of the first-floor hallway, down past the hospital wing. I can be there, but not for long." I nodded. He gave me a quick bow and went on his way before anyone noticed our conversation, and I continued downstairs.
Sitting in the women's room watching Kriss pour over her presentation again and the others reading things like notes or reports, made me sick to my stomach. I needed an idea and fast. I was sure Aspen would help me figure this out. How could I come up with a project that would do good, when I knew anything I came up with would be no more than superstical?
(cass)
As if she could read my thoughts, Silvia, who had been visiting with the queen, stopped by to see me.
"How's my star pupil?" she asked, keeping her voice low enough that the others wouldn't notice.
"Great."
"How is your project going? Do you need any help fine-tuning?" she offered.
Fine-tuning? How was I supposed to tweak nothing?
"It's going great. You're going to love it, I'm sure," I lied.
She cocked her head to the side. "Being a bit secretive are we?"
"A bit." I smiled.
"That's fine. You've been doing wonderful work lately. I'm sure it'll be fantastic." Silvia patted my shoulder as she headed out of the room.
I was in so much trouble.
The minutes passed so slowly that it was like a special kind of torture. Just before two I excused myself and went down the hallway. At the very end, there was a burgundy upholstered couch underneath a massive window. I sat to wait. I didn't see a clock, but the minutes passed too slowly for comfort. Finally Aspen came around a corner.
"About time." I sighed.
"What's wrong?" he asked, standing by the couch, looking official.
So much, I thought. So many things I can't talk to you about right now.
"We have this assignment, and I don't know what to do. I can't think of anything, and I'm stressed, and I can't sleep," I said spastically.
He chuckled. "What's the assignment? Tiara designing?"
"No," I said, shooting him a frustrated glare. "We have to come up with a project, something good for the country. Like Queen Amberly's work with the disabled."
"This is what you've been worked up about?" he asked, shaking his head. "How is that stressful? That sounds like fun."
"I thought it would be, too. But I can't come up with anything. What would you do?"
Aspen thought for a moment. "I know! You should do a caste exchange program," he said, his eyes glittering with excitement.
"A what?"
"A caste exchange program. People from the upper castes switch places with people from the lower castes so they can know what it feels like to walk in our shoes."
"I don't think that would work, Aspen, at least not for this project."
"It's a great idea," he insisted. "Can you imagine someone like Celeste breaking her nails stocking shelves? It'd serve them right."
"What's gotten into you? Aren't some of the guards natural Twos? Aren't they your friends now?"
"Nothing's gotten into me," he answered defensively. "I'm the same as ever. You're the one who's forgotten what it was like to live in a house with no heat."
I straightened my back. "I haven't forgotten. I'm trying to come up with a service project to stop things like that. Even if I'm eliminated, someone might use my idea, so I need it to be good. I want to help people."
(edit)
"Don't forget, Mer," Aspen implored me with a quiet passion in his eyes. "This government sat by while you went without food. They let my brother get murdered in the square. All the talk in the world won't undo what we are. They put us in a corner we could never get out of on our own, and they're not in a rush to pull us out. Mer, they just don't get it."
I huffed and stood.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Back to the Women's Room," I answered, starting to move.
Aspen followed. "Are we seriously fighting over some stupid project?"
I turned on him. "No. We're fighting because you don't get it either. I'm a Three now. And you're a Two. Instead of being bitter about what we were handed, why can't you see the chance you have? You can change your family's life. You could probably change lots of lives. And all you want to do is settle the score. That's not going to get anyone anywhere." I turned back and added, "I need to talk to you about something else too. Can we talk tonight?"
"I still have a couple minutes." He added clearly concerned.
I shook my head. "Not here."
He nodded. "I'll leave a note." I turned and walked away. Tonight.
Aspen didn't say anything, and I left. I tried not to be upset with him for being passionate about what he wanted. If anything, wasn't that an admirable quality? But it made me think so much about the castes and how they couldn't be undone that I started getting angry about the situation.
Nothing was going to change it. So why bother? I knew that didn't I? I had seen more than even Aspen knew. And I had tried to change it to no end.
When I got back from the women's room there was a note in the jar. I had a meeting with Aspen at 1:45am. I'm really going to do this.
I played my violin. I took a bath. I did my analysis. I spent part of the evening sitting on my balcony.
None of it mattered. It was getting dangerously late in the game, and I still had nothing for my project.
It was getting late, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway so I did what I had been dreading almost as much as my conversation with Aspen; I got Gregory's diary. I was worried that it would give me more questions than answers. But maybe something in there would give me direction, something I could talk about on the Report.
Besides, even if I could help myself, I had to know what happened to his daughter. I was pretty sure her name was Katherine, so I flipped through the book looking for any mention of her, ignoring everything else, until I found a picture of a girl standing next to a man who appeared to be much older. Maybe it was just my imagination, but she looked like she'd been crying.
(cass)
KATHERINE WAS FINALLY MARRIED TODAY TO EMIL DE MONPEZAT OF SWENDWAY. SHE SOBBED THE WHOLE WAY TO THE CHURCH UNTIL I MADE IT CLEAR THAT IF SHE DIDN'T STRAIGHTEN UP FOR THE CEREMONY, THERE'D BE HELL TO PAY AFTERWARD. HER MOTHER ISN'T HAPPY, AND I SUSPECT SPENCER IS UPSET NOW THAT HE'S AWARE OF HOW LITTLE HIS SISTER WANTED TO GO THROUGH WITH THIS. BUT SPENCER IS BRIGHT. I THINK HE'LL FALL INTO LINE QUICKLY ONCE HE SEES ALL THE POSSIBILITIES I'VE CREATED FOR HIM. AND DAMON IS SO SUPPORTIVE; I WISH I COULD TAKE WHATEVER IT IS IN HIS SYSTEM AND INJECT IT INTO THE REST OF THE POPULATION. THERE'S SOMETHING TO BE SAID FOR THE YOUNG. IT'S SPENCER AND DAMON'S GENERATION THAT HAS BEEN THE MOST HELPFUL IN GETTING ME WHERE I AM. THEIR ENTHUSIASM IS UNSWAYABLE, AND THEY ARE A FAR MORE POPULAR CROWD FOR OTHERS TO LISTEN TO THAN THE FEEBLE ELDERLY WHO INSIST WE'VE GONE DOWN THE WRONG PATH. I KEEP WONDERING IF THERE'S A WAY TO SILENCE THEM FOR GOOD THAT WOULDN'T MIRE MY NAME.
EITHER WAY, WE ARE SLATED TO HAVE THE CORONATION TOMORROW. NOW THAT SWENDWAY HAS GOTTEN THE POWERFUL ALLY OF THE NORTH AMERICAN UNION, I CAN HAVE WHAT I WANT: A CROWN. I THINK THIS IS A FAIR TRADE. WHY SETTLE FOR PRESIDENT ILLÉA WHEN I CAN BE KING ILLÉA INSTEAD? THROUGH MY DAUGHTER, I'VE BEEN DEEMED ROYAL.
EVERYTHING IS IN PLACE. AFTER TOMORROW THERE WILL BE NO TURNING BACK.
He sold her. The pig sold his daughter to a man she hated so he could have everything he wanted.
My instinct was to close the book again, to shut it all out. But I forced myself to flip through it, reading passages at random. In one place a rough diagram of the caste system was laid out, originally dreamed up with six tiers instead of eight. On another page he plotted to change people's last names to separate them from their pasts. One line made it clear that he intended to punish his enemies by placing them lower on the scale and reward the loyal by placing them higher.
I wondered if my great-grandparents simply had nothing to offer or if they had resisted this. I hoped it was the latter.
What should my last name have been? Did Dad know?
My whole life I'd been led to believe that Gregory Illéa was a hero, the person who saved our country when we were on the edge of oblivion. Clearly, he was nothing more than a power-hungry monster. What kind of man manipulated people so willingly? What kind of man hawked his daughter for his own convenience?
I looked at the older entries I'd read in a new light. He never said he wanted to be a great family man; he just wanted to look like one. He would play by Wallis's rules for now. He was using his son's peers to gain support. He was playing a game from the very beginning.
I felt nauseated. I stood and paced the floor, trying to wrap my head around it all.
How had an entire history been forgotten? How was it that no one ever spoke of the old countries? Where was all this information? Why didn't anyone know?
I opened my eyes and looked to the sky. It seemed impossible. Surely, someone would have disapproved, would have told their children the truth. But then again, maybe they had. I'd often wondered why Dad never let me talk about the timeworn history book he had hidden in his room, why the history I did know about Illéa was never in print. Maybe it was because, if it was there in writing that Illéa was a hero, people would have rioted. But if it was always a point of speculation, where one person insisted it was a certain way and another denied it, how would anyone ever hold on to the truth?
I wondered if Maxon knew.
Suddenly a memory came to me. Not so long ago, Maxon and I had our first kiss. It was so unexpected that I had pulled away, leaving him embarrassed. Then when I realized that I wanted Maxon to kiss me, I suggested that we simply erase that memory and plant a new one.
America, he'd said, I don't think you can change history. To which I replied, Sure we can. Besides, who'd ever know about it but you and me?
I'd meant it as a joke. Surely, if he and I end up together, we'd remember what really happened no matter how silly it was. We'd never actually replace it with a more perfect-sounding story simply for the sake of show.
But the whole Selection was a show. If Maxon and I were ever asked about our first kiss, would we tell anyone the truth? Or would we keep that little detail a secret between the two of us? When we died, no one would know, and that fraction of a moment that was so important to who we were would be gone.
Could it be that simple? Tell one story to one generation and repeat it until it was accepted as fact? How often had I asked someone older than Mom or Dad what they knew or what their parents had seen? They were old. What did they know? It was so arrogant of me to discount them completely. I felt so stupid.
But the important issue wasn't how this all made me feel. The important issue was what I was going to do with it.
(Edit)
I'd lived my whole life stuck in a hole in our society; and because I loved music, I didn't complain for myself. But I had wanted to be with Aspen, and because he was a Six, it was harder than it had to be. I watched children die all around me. Children who shouldn't have been dead. If Gregory Illéa hadn't coldly designed the laws of our country, sitting comfortably at his desk all those years ago, then Aspen and I wouldn't have fought and I never would have cared about Maxon. Maxon wouldn't even be a prince. Marlee's hands would still be intact, and she and Carter wouldn't be living in a room barely big enough for their bed. Aspen's Brother, Jermey, would be alive along with the fourteen others. Gerad, my sweet baby brother, could study all the science he wanted instead of pushing himself into the arts for which he had no passion.
By obtaining a comfy life in a beautiful house, Gregory Illéa had robbed most of the country of its ability to ever attempt to have the very same thing.
Maxon said if I wanted to know who he was, all I had to do was ask. I'd been afraid to face the possibility of him being this person, but I had to know. I couldn't believe he was, but what I was reading.
Glancing at the clock I still had a bit over two hours until my meeting with Aspen. Donning my slippers and robe, I left my room, passing the Aspen on my way.
"You all right, miss?" he asked.
"Yes. I'll be back soon."
He looked like he wanted to say more, but I left too quickly for him to speak. I headed up the stairs to the third floor. Where like always, guards stood at the landing, preventing me from simply walking to Maxon's door.
"I need to speak to the prince," I said, trying to sound firm.
"It's very late, miss," the one to the left said.
"Maxon won't mind," I promised.
The one to the right smirked a little. "I don't think he'd appreciate any company right now, miss."
My forehead creased in thought as I played that sentence in my head again.
He was with another girl. I had to assume it was Kriss.
A maid came around the corner with a tray in her hands, passing me as she descended the stairs. I stepped to the side, trying to decide if I should push the guards to let me through anyway or give up.
"Maxon instructed you to let me come to his room with his permission, did he not?"
The second guard, still smirking, replied, "He will not give his permission now." For a split second I thought about fighting passed. It wouldn't even be hard. But if Maxon was with Kriss did I really want to interrupt that?
I turned to leave and I heard the one guard—the smirking one—mumble something as I walked away, and that made it worse. Was he making fun of me? Feeling sorry for me? Well he would feel a lot worse if he read what I had just read.
(Cass)
When I got back to the second floor, I was surprised to see that the maid who had passed me was there, kneeling as if she was adjusting her shoe but clearly doing nothing of the sort. She raised her head as I approached, picking up her tray and walking toward me.
"He's not in his room," she whispered.
"Who? Maxon?"
She nodded. "Try downstairs."
I smiled, shaking my head in surprise. "Thank you."
She shrugged. "He's not anywhere you couldn't find him if you looked anyway. Besides," she said, her eyes full of admiration, "we like you."
She moved away, heading down to the first floor very quickly. I wondered exactly who "we" was, but for now, her simple act of kindness was enough. I stood for a moment, leaving some space between the two of us, and headed downstairs.
The Great Room was open but empty, as was the dining room. I checked the Women's Room, thinking that would be a funny place to go on a date, but they weren't there either. I asked the guards by the door, and they assured me that Maxon hadn't gone into the gardens, so I checked a few of the libraries and parlors before guessing that he and Kriss must have either parted ways or gone back to his room.
Giving up, I turned a corner and headed for the back stairwell, which was closer than the main one. I didn't see anything; but as I approached, I heard the distinct hiss of a whisper. I slowed, not wanting to intrude and not completely sure where the sound was coming from.
Another whisper.
A flirtatious giggle.
A warm sigh.
The sounds focused, and I was certain where they were coming from. I took one more step forward, looked to my left, and saw a couple embracing in the shadows. After the image settled and my eyes adjusted to the light, a shock went through me.
Maxon's blond hair was unmistakable, even in the darkness. How many times had I seen it just so in the dim light of the gardens? But what I'd never seen before, never imagined before, was how that hair would look with Celeste's long fingers, nails painted red, digging into it.
Maxon was all but pinned to the wall by Celeste's body. Her free hand was pressed against his chest, and her leg was wrapped around his, the slit of her dress revealing her long leg, tinted slightly blue in the dark of the hall. She pulled back slightly, only to fall back into him slowly, teasing him it seemed.
(Edit)
I froze, completely unsure why I didn't turn and give them privacy, but I couldn't look away. That burning feeling was back.
So I just watched as he kissed her. She lavished in it and giggled again at his affection. He whispered something in her ear, and Celeste leaned in and kissed him, deeper, harder than before. The strap of her dress fell off her shoulder, leaving what seemed like miles of exposed skin down her back. Neither of them bothered to fix it.
I wanted to scream or cry but not only did my throat feel constricted, I had no right. This was Maxon's life and romantically I was nothing to him. I had no excuse to feel this way. But why, of everyone, did it have to be her?
Celeste's lips slid off Maxon's and settled onto his neck. She gave another obnoxious giggle and kissed him once more. Maxon closed his eyes and smiled. With Celeste no longer blocking him, I was in Maxon's line of sight.
I meant to run, to disappear, to evaporate. Instead I stood there.
So when Maxon opened his eyes, he saw me.
As Celeste drew pictures in kisses up and down his neck, Maxon and I merely stared at each other. His smile now gone, Maxon had suddenly turned to stone. The shock in his eyes willed me finally to move. Celeste didn't notice, so I made a little awkward thumb gesture and backed away quietly, not even stirring a breath.
Once I was out of earshot, I broke into a run, blazing past all the guards and butlers working late into the night. The tears started coming before I as soon as I hit my bed.
"Stop it America." I kept yelling to myself in my head. "He's your friend, he's your friend, he's your friend and you do not need more boy issues. You need to be void of boy issues." A few deep breaths later I got it to stop. Why on Earth did I not leave!
I realized my instinct was to run right back into Aspen's arms. I had stayed quiet enough as to not stur Aspen's susptions, but if I was just a little louder….. No. No. This was my issue. I would always just run back to Aspen because he's safe.
Now, I am more determined than ever to break that cycle.
It wasn't long before there was a knock on my door, and Maxon came in without waiting for an answer. He stormed across the room, looking about as angry as I was.
Before he could say a word, I confronted him.
"I'm so sorry!"
"You should be! What the hell America, you're date bombing now."
"I should have left I know, but I just froze." I yelled back at him and it suddenly registered to him that I was mad.
"Why did you freeze?!" He questioned, still angry.
"You're joking, right? Or because you're the next king, I suppose it's acceptable for you to have half-naked girls draped across you whenever you like? I was supposed to see that and go ah yes it's just any old Tuesday for Maxon Schreave."
Maxon looked stricken. "No. That's not what I think at all."
"Why her?" I asked, for the first time not yelling. "Why, of anyone on the planet, would you want her?"
When I looked to Maxon for an answer, he was shaking his head and looking around the room.
"Maxon, she's an actress, a fake. You have to be able to see that under all that makeup, and the push-up bra is nothing but a girl who wants to manipulate you to get what she wants. You deserve so much better than that and-"
Maxon huffed out a laugh. "Actually, I do know."
I was taken aback by his calm. "Then why—"
"Because I wanted passion for just one moment." I looked him in the eye. "Sure Kriss is sweet, but she won't even let me kiss her." He was suddenly a lot less mad and a lot more vulnerable, "I have to choose a wife after this. This is it for me dating, and Cesete couldn't care less whether I was a- chair...no I take it back she would probably prefer that." I couldn't help but laughing a little. "But what if that is my one chance to have a passionate moment? Should I just deprive myself of that?"
"You'll have passion." I told him. "When you love...whoever you marry, you'll be far too goofy, and romantic, and perfect to not have passion."
"If I love whoever I marry. What if I don't marry someone I love and just have to settle for 'gets along with well and likes'?"
"Do you not think you can love Kriss."
He shook his head, "That's not what I meant." I looked at him, puzzled. He reached up and brushed the hair that had fell in my face away, "I-" he dropped the hand, "I should get back to Celeste." He left swiftly.
I felt a tingle on the place he touched my face long after his hand had left. I fidgeted with my hands trying to process the conversation when I remembered they weren't empty. I never got a chance to ask him about the book. Maybe I would go find him tomorrow. Though I wasn't sure what to do anymore.
But first I had one more thing tonight. At 1:45am on the dot Aspen came in. I was standing waiting for him.
"Was everything okay earlier? I heard yelling." He asked moving to me.
"Yes that's fine, but that's not what I wanted to talk about." Aspen tried to kiss me, but I shrugged him off.
The worry in his eyes shined so bright, "Mer. Is everything okay?"
I shook my head. I had thought about how to do this, what to say, over and over again, but now that I was in the moment none of it fit. I must have opened and closed my mouth five times before I moved over to the end table, opened a drawer, pulled out a pair of scissors, looked Aspen in the eyes, and cut the little button bracelet.
Aspen looked like a ghost. "America." He pleaded, moving over to me. But I simply dropped the button inside the jar with the penny and handed it to him. He took it. His eyes looked like I had used the scissors to cut his heart in half.
Finally I spoke. "Aspen. I don't want to hurt you. That has been the hardest part. But I realized that if Maxon wanted me I would take him over you in a heartbeat. I would just keep going back to you when I wanted things to be simpler or safe...somewhere along the way my heart decided you were my second choice and you deserve nothing less than to be someone's one and only choice."
He grabbed my hands, "Mer, I am more than happy to be your second choice. I would be your ten thousandth choice, I would stand in a line as long as the globe, if it meant I even just had a chance to be with you."
"If you love someone set them free." I replied.
"And if they come back they're yours." He added, "This is me coming back."
"You can't come back." I told him, tears now streaming down my eyes.
"Why not."
"Because there's nothing to come back to. Aspen I will always love you, but I am not in love with you. And I never will be again."
"So this is it." He said, "You're choosing Maxon."
I shook my head, "Maxon isn't mine to choose. If he wants me I'll take him, but this is me choosing me. Choosing to be honest. Choosing to do what's hard because it's what's right." That's when it hit me. That's what I have to do in the report isn't it. Do what's right even if it's hard.
"This isn't right America." He shook his head.
"It is. I know on some level you started to feel it. We were holding each other back from being in the real world. Find yourself a girl that will adore every piece of you forever. And if we can be friends let me meet her. I'll make sure she's worthy enough, and be Auntie America to your kids."
"You're the only girl for me America."
"Maybe once you're free you won't see it that way." I was the last thing that was said. Aspen knew I wasn't going to change my mind and I think what hurt him most is he knew I was right. Since we got to the castle we've been knotted together, but it almost feels like we were knotted soap in a rainstorm. I could still slip away. I wanted him to find someone worthy of his love and that was no longer me.
I whipped my tears away and sat down with the diary. I needed to finish reading this tonight. I needed to figure out what was right.
... ... ... ...
And just like that Asperica is done. Imagine a world where America didn't lead Aspen on for a whole other book...well now you don't have to :)
Thanks for reading. As always please comment! I love to hear your thoughts!