Gavril approached me personally after wrapping up today's Report. "Hello, Maxon."

"What! No grand greeting today?" I teased, shaking his hand.

Gavril had known me my whole life. Since I was born. He was the one who helped me in facing interviews. And to learn that I did good, I'm sure he felt proud, too.

He laughed. "Oh, definitely not. You did that well today. Bringing a change."

I laughed recalling his shocked face when I'd introduced the project and later introduced him. "It was an abrupt decision to introduce you—"

"I meant your new project, Maxon."

Oh! "Thank you." It wasn't a secret how much he disliked the caste system. Originally a Four and now a Two, he'd despised the whole thing since I knew him. "It's very personal and I'm glad you liked it."

He shook his head. He didn't look like a reporter or friend I had known since I was a child. Instead he looked about his age. Like he suddenly found a treat when he least expected it. "There's nothing to not like it. Looks like this Selection is bringing the best out of you."

I shrugged. "I guess. It was one of the ladies to bring it to my attention how many problems the lower castes fare. It was about time we brought a change."

"Who? Kriss Ambers?" He murmured, so fast to point. "She is full of so many ideas. Her interview was one of the best."

"Yes. She's full of ideas and optimism. But it wasn't her. It was America."

"The one who yelled." He laughed. "She does seems spontaneous."

"Yeah. She is crazy sometimes." I said, recalling our moments we'd shared. Especially the kick.

Gavril grinned back, but it wasn't hearty. It was somber again. "So, who do you like the most?"

"I'm not sure yet. For now I'm trying to spend time with all of them."

"I can't wait for more updates. And kiss someone this time. We need to keep the Report a little juicy." He winked.

I blushed.

"Gavril? If I ask you to do a thing, will you do it?"

"If you're asking me to Select one for you..."

I laughed. "I was just wondering if you could reduce the cameras by a notch. Nothing major. But now that I've announced a new project, and with the Selection going on..."

He shook his head positively. "Okay. I'll do it."

"And Maxon? America was right. You'll be a phenomenal king."

.

.

.

"So, this America girl?"

"Yes, Mom. She yelled at me."

"But you failed to mention you liked her." She scolded, squeezing my arm.

I blushed, running my free hand through my hair. "I never said I liked her."

"Oh, you should've seen your mouth popped open when she said you were good. And how you were fixated on her afterwards."

I blushed. "I don't know, Mom. It isn't simple with her." That doesn't mean I wished it never to end. I was on a crossroads when it came to America. I couldn't just stand here. There was either going back or front. "And I have all the other girls' to concentrate on as well. I don't know." I repeated.

She patted my arm. "Do what you find right, sweetie. We may have to go through the rules," she gave me a pointed look, "but that doesn't mean you can't pull for one. And didn't you hear others? You're nice." She emphasised, laughing a little. "Sure she'll see that."

.

.

.

The dinner passed in a blur.

I still tried to catch America, but before I could I was surrounded by the girls. All wanted to know how they did for interview. I had to reassure a few that they were fine. And I wasn't going to judge them on one interview. Tiny finally relaxed after hearing that. And so did Emmica. She was nervous she was too casual for the first time.

Dad asked me to join in his room after dinner and I found myself standing before his office door.

I knew things with him will always be complicated. But what would he want to discuss this late? Surely the Selection. But how could he control me anymore? Wasn't what he was doing already enough?

I entered in and he greeted me with just a wave of his hand, asking me to sit down. "As you're very much aware, today went well."

"Yes, sir."

It went so much more better than expected. The project announcement, the interview, everything, I felt I could run in the air. For the first time things were under my control—even if for just a night—and I liked it that way. When no one was here to pull my strings for me.

"We'll be having a company by the next week. The Swendway relatives are coming, with the motto of improving our trade arrangements with them. It isn't solely for entertainment purpose." I nodded. I already knew that. "And your aunt would be coming by the same way. You know how your aunt perks up when we have company. Your mother would already be a hostess, so I ask you to make sure nothing bad happens while they're here. It's your responsibility to keep a check on your aunt. Do you get it?"

"Yes."

He always had a problem with my maternal family. He loved my mother dearly, but never passed on the affection to her family. He always claimed they never behave the way royals should. But I never get it. Even if they were announced One due to Mom's relationship with Dad, they were Four. They lived like that only. And I couldn't think why one might need to change themselves. If anything, I respected my aunt Adele for that. For being herself.

"And you realise the party would be an excuse for further eliminations?"

"I'm already working on it." I assured him.

"About America Singer." My whole body tensed up. "As long as she is no trouble, I could let her live here. But the moment her methods start getting in my way, I'm sorry then I'll have her to go."

"But—"

"She doesn't behave like a lady, and clearly she's the last option for queen." He shook his head in disgust. "Do not forget our standard, Maxon. I'd rather have Marlee Tames, a Four, be your wife, if anything for her enthusiasm, than let you choose a Five."

My breathing stopped. "Are you asking me to send her?"

"As long as she behaves, she can enjoy there." He gave me a pointed look. "Just enjoy. Nothing serious. And I expect better than her from you."

I shook my head, not able to concentrate. It was really about this. Just because she was a Five she wasn't an option but Celeste being a Two was an excellent choice! I couldn't comprehend it.

Weren't my feelings to be accounted for as well?

Won't he even ask me who I preferred. Not only for the queen but for my wife as well? Would I always be his pawn? Would the one he selects, too?

But then he won't. He would be pulling for the ones he likes, the one whom he selected, those who could benefit him.

Why did I ever forget when to stop expecting from him.

I nodded, not meaning it. He frowned but let it go. "What about Elise Whisks?"

"What about her? She doesn't have her own opinion and neither a spine to stand straight." If asked me, I'd rather send her away this instant.

"We need her, Maxon," he said, with a tone of finality. And his eyes muttered the next part: No negotiation in this. "for our relations with New Asia. You can't let her go. Try to get close to her. Gift her something. But get close to her."

"I'll see what I can do." I muttered and went out without him asking to.

Did my thoughts, my feelings really mattered?

I was strolling through the hallway, thinking about what Dad told me, when I heard a voice. A perky voice. "Ah! The prince has been so playful lately." When playful, she sounded like a child, giving up her business–lady persona.

I smiled and waved at Silvia to join me. "Maybe it was because my best was doing her job so wonderfully..." I mused.

She waved her hand, dismissing it. "Great to be of your service. Now, I am here on some official business."

"Yes?"

"I know it's kind of obvious, but the girls' did well today."

"That I'm quite aware of. You did great work preparing them."

"Oh, thank you." She gushed. "But I was wondering if you were going to eliminate someone? The king had told me to give weekly reports of their performances. I know it's unfair, as you should be the one they're delivered to, but...anyways, I wanted to count in your opinion as well while preparing the report."

"Oh?"

"Yes. After all they're here for you. Your opinion counts the most."

But after what father said...

"Whom would you prefer?" I inquired. She was the one spend more time with them. She knew much better.

"Well, if you want my opinion, then I'd say...and please forgive me if I'm too forward, but Elise is too polite to be a queen, and Bariel too impolite. Celeste is people's favourite, and she'd be so much wonderful. A bit manipulative, but wonderful. Tiny...I don't know. She's just seems off. Kriss? She spends more time in library than focusing on working on you. Sort of aloof. Olivia seems a good choice, as well. Then there are others. I'm still working on remarking them. America was a surprise. I always assumed her to be odd, but she was charming today."

I agreed with her. On her every opinion. "You will make the best report."

"Your opinion?" She insisted. She sighed and asked me to join for a walk. We ended up in the hallway, watching the night growing through the window.

"How long have I known you?" She asked.

"The actual question should be: how old was I since you've been scolding me?"

She laughed and looked out. "The Selection has put so much pressure. Not only on you, but on your parents as well. As you already know, your mother had always wanted a daughter."

Yes. And now I knew the desire behind that desire as well.

I asked her. Beyond Mom, she was the only woman with whom I was comfortable speaking my heart to. And she knew. She had been working so hard for the Selection, she has to know!

"Do you really think the one I choose will be an acceptable choice?"

"Maxon. I know the king can be very persistent, but you can't let his opinions cloud yours. You have to give yourself a chance to choose one. To feel not like a price but as the one fighting for it. You can't let his few words write your whole life for you. You're the one holding the pen. You write it. The words may be of others', but the thoughts are always going to be yours."

She was right.

Of course, she was right!

"I'll send you my opinions by tomorrow morning." After I talk to one.

.

.

.

It was past ten when I finally had the nerve to knock on America's door. It didn't help that I was pacing the whole second floor deciding if I should go or not, especially after the talk with my father.

If anything, I had to be clear with her. I couldn't stand on the crossroads any more. I made her a promise to not let her go until the last moment, but things weren't this simple. I had to know where I stand with her: if she could like me, love me, or was it too much to expect.

Sure she talked about me, said so many good things. That meant she liked me, right? But then again she maybe just trying to look good. Her red dress may be made for me specially, or her maids were just talented. Maybe here she was trying to forget her ex, but then maybe she was being my friend.

But one thing was clear. And if it wasn't, father made me see it. I liked her. I adored her. Thinking about her leaving the palace...the thought was excruciating.

And she was a right candidate to be the queen. She understood others, was always honest, full of ideas. Optimist but also realistic.

But this wasn't only part I liked about her.

She made me happy. Made me feel...cared for. Not the way Mom did, but as a friend, as a partner. She had temper, like me, but she also knows how to make things right. She is just, caring...

I realised I could go on and on about her.

Wasn't this what I was looking for in this Selection?

Wasn't this what was looking for as well?

I finally knocked, afraid id I didn't, I'll never do it.

There was a pause, but then she opened it. Again no maids. "You really ought to have a maid in here at night." I said as a greeting. At least the guards were outside her room to give me a moment of peace from all the worries.

She was out of her ridiculously beautiful gown. Good then. One distraction less.

"Maxon! Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to call you that in front of everyone. It was so stupid."

"Do you think I'm mad at you?" Shutting the door I stepped inside. "America, you call me by my name so often, it was bound to slip out. I wish it had been in a slightly more private setting," At least nothing as extravagant as on the Report, "but I don't hold that against you at all."

"Really?"

"Of course, really."

"Ugh! I felt like such an idiot tonight. I can't believe you made me tell that story!" she muttered, slapping me on my arm playfully.

"That was the best part of the whole night! Mom was really amused. In her day the girls were more reserved than even Tiny, and here you are calling me shallow … she couldn't get over it."

She looked horrified. Why?

We moved to her balcony, which faced the garden. Our place. Warm breeze blew in, carrying the many smells of the garden, of night. The moonlight fell on us, highlighting her light freckles on the cheeks and nose. Cheeks that were red with her blush. She was glowing. In the dim brightness by the moon, wearing a simple nightgown, her hair, free of pins, falling over her shoulder, makeup removed from her face...light freckles glowing in the dim light of her room, she looked striking. Exquisite.

Wonder what she's thinking about. Me?

"Well, I'm glad you're so amused."

I hopped up on the railing, still looking at her. "You're always amusing. Get used to it." Better to bring the part I wanted to talk about directly rather than going in circles. "So...about what you said…"

"Which part? The part about me calling you names or fighting with my mom or saying food was my motivation?"

I had to laugh at her exasperation. She was really overthinking about her interview. "The part about me being good…"

"Oh. What about it?" She asked tentatively, ducking her head, suddenly interested in her dress.

She was embarrassed. So she didn't mean any of that?

"I appreciate you making things look authentic, but you didn't need to go that far." Why did I feel so dejected? I already knew it was a possibility.

"Maxon, that wasn't for the sake of the show. If you had asked me a month ago what my honest opinion of you was, it would have been very different. But now I know you, and I know the truth, and you are everything I said you were. And more."

She really thought I was good. "Thank you." I cleared my throat. That didn't change anything. She was a nice girl. That's it. She didn't think about me in any other way. "He'll be lucky, too."

'"Huh?"

I got down and crossed the distance between us. "Your boyfriend." II clarified. "When he comes to his senses and begs you to take him back."

"He's not my boyfriend anymore." She was quick to retort, but after a quick laugh. I wondered how many times she told this to herself. "And he made it pretty clear he was done with me." But she still wanted to hope. Wanted him.

"Not possible. He'll have seen you on TV by now and fallen for you all over again. Though, in my opinion, you're still much too good for the dog."

Too good for me, too.

Was I, too, making a mistake not pursuing her?

She looked so lovely today...so sexy in her red dress... Maybe it was to show him she was over it. Not for me.

But what if she dressed up for me? Could I endure liking her, feeling for her, if she couldn't, wouldn't, reciprocate it back?

"Speaking of which! If you don't want me to be in love with you, you're going to have to stop looking so lovely. First thing tomorrow I'm having your maids sew some potato sacks together for you."

Even I could say my voice was too loud to be casual.

She hit my arm, not taking my compliment seriously. "Shut up, Maxon."

"I'm not kidding. You're too beautiful for your own good. Once you leave, we'll have to send some of the guards with you. You'll never survive on your own, poor thing." I shook my head in fake pity.

She sighed, fanning her face in mocking dramatics, too. "I can't help it. One can never help being born into perfection."

But I was pretty serious when I said, "No, I don't suppose you can help it."

She was perfection. An epitome of perfection. In every aspect. Friend, partner, acquaintance, everything. In every aspect. I could share things with her without thinking twice about it. I could joke with her without second guessing everything. I could be me when with her. For me, she was perfection.

I wasn't even aware of my actions until I found myself a few inches apart from her. When had I leaned in?

But it didn't matter. In that moment, I knew she was to be my first kiss. Not only because I liked her, but also because I adored her. And truly, she was my friend. She wouldn't mind it if anything for that.

I'd lost my chance with Daphne because of my role as a prince. But did it really mattered when I wasn't s prince with her.

Just like with her, as always, I didn't second guess it. The moment she turned to me, I kissed her. Screwing the circumstances, my lips landed on hers.

For a moment there was no reaction, then suddenly she was out of my range. She'd stepped back.

I pushed myself back, too. "Sorry."

"What are you doing?" She nearly yelled in a whisper.

I couldn't even look in her eyes. "Sorry."

"Why did you do that?"

"It's just...with what you said earlier, and then seeking me out yesterday...just the way you acted…I thought maybe your feelings had changed. And I like you, I thought you could tell." I turned to her. She had a hand on her mouth! And she looked annoyed. Shocked. Was I that a horrible kisser? "And… Oh, was it terrible? You don't look happy at all."

"I'm so sorry. I've never kissed anyone before." I explained, and then muttered to myself. "I don't know what I'm doing." Leaning back against the railing once again, I tried to calm down. "I'm just… I'm sorry, America." I spoke finally.

I knew she didn't reciprocate my feelings. What was I thinking? I shouldn't just damn the consequences! She's my only friend! And I ruined that with her, too. And what if I'm a horrible kisser? Will the others don't like it either?

I felt her fingers rub on my forehead, disturbing my reverie. "What are you doing?"

She had a small smile on her face. "I'm erasing that memory. I think we can do better." She mused, sitting on the railing beside me.

What? She couldn't just? But what if she was doing this for pity? But what if she liked me as well...

I don't care! I told myself. But deep inside I could feel my heart flutter with excitement.

"America, I don't think you can change history." I retorted.

"Sure we can. Besides, who'd ever know about it but you and me?"

I wondered if she was really fine with it. She looked back at me, a blush making her pale skin flush. She was sure about it. I could read it in her eyes. She liked me just fine.

"One can never help being born into perfection." She whispered, recreating the history.

Stepping closer to her, j wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close that she faced me. This close I could see the black lining in her blue eyes, the freckles that ran on her nose, too. Bending slightly, my nose grazed her. Her flush deepened. She was anticipating the kiss. But this time I wanted it to go perfect. Rubbing my fingers over the soft skin of her cheek, I could feel how silky her skin was. Unlike her fingers. And her breath washing over her face...the smell of her, soil and almond and winter breeze...The fluttering of my heart in my chest...

"No, I don't suppose you can." I breathed.

With my hand holding her cheek, with her leaning her cheek in my hands, I closed the distance between us.

It was nothing big as I'd seem some. Just a small brush of our lips. A small whisper. As if even the slightest force could break the moment, it was so delicate.

Her hand wrapped around my neck as the kiss deepened slightly. Just holding me close. Tentatively, my arm tightened around her. She reacted by stepping closer to me.

This was how I supposed my first kiss to be. With someone as beautiful as her. Someone whom I adored and respected and cherished and lov—

I leaned back.

I was stepping into a dangerous territory.

Her eyes were still closed, a contended smile on her face. She looked breathtaking in that moment.

Dangerous territory! I reminded myself.

To being some normalcy, I asked playfully, "Was that better?"

She nodded, still smiling, her eyes closed. If I felt like dancing after the interview, now I felt like flying.

After a moment, when they opened, she looked at me with something new. A feeling I couldn't place, but still hoped that I was right about it.

But I couldn't walk in the dangerous territory if I was alone. It was my only shot after all.

"May I say something?"

She nodded, her face unreadable for a moment.

"I'm not so stupid as to believe that you've completely forgotten about your former boyfriend. I know what you've gone through and that you're not exactly here under the normal circumstances. I know you think there are others here more suited for me and this life, and I wouldn't want you to rush into trying to be happy with any of this. I just… I just want to know if it's possible…"

If it's possible for you to like me. To love...If it's possible for you to trust me. Be patient with me.

If you won't break my heart...

Dangerous territory, Max. You're walking on a thin role, suggesting if she would give you a stick when you really want her hand to hold onto!

"Yes, Maxon." She breathed. "It's possible."

When we looked at each other, my heart pounded so fast I could hear it echo.

Even when I fell asleep that night.

Even when I dreamed of her.