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: The chapter we've all been waiting for...but is it too little too late?

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(Edit)

CHAPTER 29

"Don't you want to know why you're still here? Don't you want to know why I at least tried to stop you from leaving the selection?"

I shook my head, but not in a way that was saying no. "Your father's stubborn. I doubt he's done trying to kick me out." I looked at him before I added, "Besides is that the worse idea? As an Elite I'm just hurting you."

Maxon thought it over. "I'm not sure I could stop it now…. Do you want to be out? You'll stay on as an advisor. It's what we always talked about."

"It's like you said I don't have much of a choice in the matter…."

"But if you did? America should I fight for you?"

"Do you want to fight for me?" The desperation in my voice made it clear I wanted him to want me. But I also didn't want to hurt him.

We locked eyes, in limbo. It wasn't a butterfly look it was one far more vulnerable. We were looking for answers. I looked away before I got any, and asked in just above a whisper. "How's Kriss?"

Maxon thought about it for a second. "Our relationship is rather quiet, friendly, steady. I can depend on Kriss, and I know she is devoted to me. As you know, there is very little certainty in my world. It's…. refreshing in that way." I looked at him surprised. "What?" He asked in response.

"You're not in love with her." I said plainly. I could see it all over Maxon's face. He was describing their relationship in almost pleasantries.

"No." He replied. "I could be happy with her I think. And I like her fine, but I don't love her." He bit his lower lip a little and I could tell he was nervous about that: about not loving her. Before I could think of something to say back he asked me, "Why did you break up with Officer Ledger?"

I was surprised by his question "I told you I wasn't in love with him anym-"

"Is that all." he asked but it wasn't a question. He could see through me.

I hesitated, but I didn't want to lie to Maxon. This lie could break everything, but the truth could too. "I realized he wasn't my first choice anymore. That there was someone else…" Our eyes were locked so intensely that I was finding it harder to breathe, "...someone else who if they wanted me I would choose over him. He deserved better than a girlfriend who was falling for someone else."

Moxon nodded once. We were silent for a while as Maxon seemingly decided what to say, "You know my father has had his hand in the Selection from very early on. If you look at who's left, it's pretty clear."

He started ticking off the girls on his fingers. "Natalie is extremely pliable, and that makes her my father's favorite, as I am too willful in his opinion. The fact that he's so fond of her makes me have to fight the urge to hate her.

"Elise has allies in New Asia, but I'm not sure if that's of any use at all. That war …" Maxon debated something and shook his head. There was some detail about this war that he didn't want to or couldn't share with me. "And she's so … I don't even know the word for it. I knew from the beginning that I didn't want some girl who would agree with everything I said or just roll over and adore me. I try to contradict her, and she concedes the point. Every time! It's infuriating. It's like she doesn't have a spine." I didn't realize how much she got under his skin. He was always so patient with us.

He shook his head. "And Celeste. She is very influential, a celebrity in her own right. It looks good on TV. It sounds right for someone who is close to being on the same level as me to be the final choice. I like her if only for her tenacity. She at least has a backbone. But I can tell that she's got a manipulative streak and that she's working this whole situation for everything she can get out of it. I know when she holds me, it's the crown she pulls close to her heart."

"The others—Marlee and Kriss—were chosen by advisers. Marlee was a favorite, as is Kriss." He sighed. "Kriss would be a fine choice. I wish she would let me closer, if only for the fact that I don't know if we have … chemistry. I'd like to at least have an idea."

It kind of hurt that none of the advisors thought I would be a good princess, but I shook it off. That was before I knew any of them. And now the few I know, who are also on the princess selection team, see me as one of the guys; which frankly is a far better arrangement for me then being a lady of any sort ever was.

He looked at me.

"You were my pick. My only pick. My father wasn't enthusiastic; but at that point you hadn't done much to upset him. So long as you were quiet, he didn't mind me keeping you. In fact, he was fine with me choosing you, if you were well behaved. He tried to get me to choose someone else after the last time you told a bit about your past, but he was still okay with you though because you seemed to recognize you should keep your mouth shut, and he hoped your battle intuition would rub off on me. However, he's used your recent actions to point out the flaws in my judgment and is insisting that he have the final say now."

I didn't know why he was saying all of this. "Maxon, but it wasn't like you were ever going to choose me."

He looked up. His eyes were more full of love than I thought possible. "That's what I'm trying to tell you America. It was always you. I tried to find others, but they all look so dim at just the glimpse of your smile. I knew your heart belonged to another, and I was going to respect that, but at every turn I hoped you'd change your mind. Hoped you'd want me. So I could end this and be with the one girl I really wanted to be with."

I really had crushed him by saying I was willing to leave. I allowed myself to move to him, cup his face, drop the walls I had set up, and see into the love in my eyes.

Something that looked like relief spread over his face. "So this guy you're falling for, do I know him."

I smiled and laughed a bit, "He actually looks a scary amount like you."

A smile as big as the grand canyon spread across Maxon's face and I'm sure there was one at least as big on mine. Finally. Finally, we didn't pull away. Our lips met. The world stopped. Maxon put his hand on my lower back, pulled me in, and the kiss deepend. After a minute or so the kiss slowed, lingered, and pulled away. It was unlike anything I had felt before.

"Do you think this is smart?" I asked, searching his eyes for guidance. "If most likely we'll never be able to do that again, won't it just torcher us?"

"Maybe you're right." He hesitantly agreed and took several steps away from me. We needed the space if we had a prayer of not kissing.

"Kriss is a good choice. She'd make a much better princess than I ever would have." I tried to comfort him.

He chuckled. Talking about this in a way was easier. It's what our relationship had been for months. "She is less of an instigator. Lord knows what would happen to the country with you at the helm."

I laughed along because he was right. "I'd probably ruin it."

Maxon continued to smile when he spoke. "But maybe it needs ruining."

We sat there in silence for a little while. I wondered what our world would look like ruined. We couldn't get rid of the royal family—how could we possibly transition it out?—but maybe we could change the way some things were run. Offices could be elected instead of inherited. And the castes … I really would love to see those dead and gone.

Maxon went on. "You know, you would have made an amazing princess."

I shook my head. "Well you're one of the only people who thought so."

He looked shocked. "You really can't see it."

"You can?!"

He moved over just a bit closer to me and positioned himself in a way that he could better paint a picture. "You've told me that I lead out of love for my people, and that would make me a great leader. Well you do too America. You have so much love for the people. You already do everything you can for them: intuitively accepting their lives as your responsibility. You may not be the classic idea of a princess, but that's not who our nation needs. Our nation needs a princess who is willing to fight for them. To show little girls that a lady is not someone who rolls over, but is someone who is strong. Imagine America, a nation full of girls that know it's okay to be strong."

He was shaking his head a bit, "You don't give your strength enough credit. You are the first female advisor in Illea's history. You have seen more in seventeen years than most people do in a lifetime, and you still care. You have to be broken, yet even broken you are stronger than the entire army.

"My father doesn't like you because he knows you are a force to be reckoned with. And that's why he doesn't want you to be a princess. Not because you wouldn't be a good princess. No, it's because he knows you would be a better king than he could ever be."

I took a second to process his words. "You mean that don't you?"

He nodded. "Every word."

"Maxon, most my fear to be with you was because I didn't think I could do it: be a princess. If it was just about you I would have kissed you weeks ago." I shook my head before trying to continue on, "I know I couldn't be as abrasive, but what you just said...I still don't know, but for the first time I feel like it's really possible. Maybe I could be a princess. Not that it matters now anyway." I took a deep breath before adding, "I'll be your advisor and... best friend- forever. Just like we planned." I tried to smile but a tear rolled down my face instead. Best friend seemed so hollow looking from the edge of so much more.

Maxon broke the distance and moved in to hold me.

"Hey." he said softly, stroking my hair, "My America, I never want to be the cause of your tears. I'd spare you tears for the rest of your life if I could." They were silently flowing and he spoke up again. "You never answered my question from earlier. Do you want me to fight for you?"

I answered so easily. Easier than any other decision of my life. I declared in one word it simply and clearly, "Yes."

In his eyes I knew he wanted to kiss me, and the reasons for not were seemingly more and more inconsequential.

"I changed my mind." Maxon said and for a second I panicked, "I don't want to not be together tonight. If that makes it harder tomorrow, so be it. If this is my only chance to be with y-"

I leaned in to kiss him lightly. He stopped talking immediately. I pulled back to let myself get caught in his warm chestnut eyes. He slid the hand cupping my face deep into my hair and pulled my lips fervently to his.

I had dreamed of these kisses, so quiet, so sure. I knew that, in my whole life, no one would ever make me feel this way. It wasn't like I made his world better. It was like I was his world. It wasn't some explosion; it wasn't fireworks; It was a fire: burning slowly from our heart to our souls.

We shifted, sliding so I was on the floor and Maxon was above me. His bare chiseled chest brushing against me. He ran his nose along my jawline, down my neck, across my shoulder, and kissed the same path back to my lips. I kept running my fingers through his soft tickled my palms.

I thought that it should feel fast for our second kiss, but it was anything but fast. We spent months getting to know each other inside and out. Now we quite possibly have just one night to learn the one thing we wanted to learn the most: how it feels to be loved by the other.

After a while we pulled out the blankets and built a makeshift bed. He held me for the longest time, looking into my eyes and peppering kisses across my face. We could have spent years doing this if not for me. I tried to imagine what I would have done if I had known how Maxon had felt about me. He was right about the project, I was just trying to make noise, but because I thought noise was the best I could do. I thought back to what Aspen had said, did I have it in me to be calculating enough to do something circumstantial now so I could do more later? Yes. Because it wasn't betrayal, it was the long game.

Once Maxon's shirt was dry, he put it on, covering the dried stains with his coat, and curled up next to me again. When we both got tired, we started talking. I didn't want to sleep through a second of this, and I sensed he didn't either.

"Do you think you'll go back to him?"

"No." I answered simply, "I don't love him like that now. And I mean it when I say he deserves someone who does. I guess I will be single for a while….How will you explain to Kriss that the girl everyone thought was your favorite has to stay in the castle?"

"She'll get on board with the fact that you're my best friend or I'll choose another. I can't lose you from my life completely."

I leaned into him. Amply trailing kisses down his neck before returning back to his lips. I wanted to kiss him till the end of time and judging by his hands pulling me closer he agreed.

We laid there for a while, just letting ourselves be close. I listened for any signs of what was happening outside and I couldn't hear anything. I knew they were southern rebels. What drives them? What drives any of the rebels?

(cass)

"Maxon, what if the Northern rebels are looking for the diaries?"

He shifted, still not quite alert. "What do you mean?"

"When I was chased that day in the gardens, I saw them as they passed me. A girl dropped a bag full of books. The guy with her had bunches, too. They're stealing books. What if they're looking for a specific one?"

Maxon opened his eyes, squinting in thought. "America … what exactly was in that diary?"

I thought for a moment about how to put it. "A lot. About how Gregory basically stole the country, how he forced the castes on people. It was awful, Maxon."

(edit)

"But how would they even know what was in it?," he asked. "Besides, trust me, after that little display, my father is making sure those things are even more protected than usual."

"That's it." I covered my face, stifling a yawn. "I know it."

"Don't get worked up." he joked, "For all we know, they just really, really like to read."

I moaned at his attempt at humor.

"I know better to discount your theories. However I have the feeling that this is one that should stay between us for a while." I nodded in agreement.

He moved in closer. His strong arms grounding me to the earth. "Don't worry now My America, it will do no good. We should try and sleep." He said the nickname in the way that claimed me as his, and he was so right. I was his, every part of me.

"But I don't want to," I whispered, though I curled closer into him.

Maxon closed his eyes again, still holding on to me. "Me either. Even on a good day, sleeping makes me nervous."

It made my heart ache. I couldn't imagine his constant state of worry, especially considering that the person keeping him on edge was his own father.

He played a bit with the bracelet he gave me. "At least we'll have this, a symbol of the hope of something more." The bracelet, friendship, it felt so over bland now.

Yet I made him make one more promise, "My Maxon. Promise me if fighting for me will get you hurt. You'll stop."

"No. America I cannot just roll over and let you be taken."

"You make it sound like rebels are trying to kidnap me." I joked, but he looked scared.

"If they knew how much you did for us they might." he was right of course.

I was silent for just a moment before I said it again, "Maxon I need you to promise me. I can't be the reason you're hurt."

"I could promise you, My America, but it would be an empty promise. I would break that promise in a heartbeat. If fighting for you will make you safer, keep you with me, or bring you one ounce of happiness, I'll do it."

"Fine." I seceded quietly. I hope it never comes to that. That was the last thing we said. Maxon just held me close from then on.

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