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 part 1: If you're mad at the author clap your hands: *clap* *clap*.

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(edit)

CHAPTER 34

I AWOKE THE NEXT MORNING wrapped in Maxon's arms. He kissed me tenderly, "I don't think I can accept that this will be the last time I ever do that." I kissed him again, unable to grasp it myself. "Are you sure?"

I nodded.

Maxon rolled over, getting mad again. "Damn it America. Don't I get any say? It's my life you're ruining too."

"I get it if you hate me." I whispered out, pulling my legs into my chest.

Maxon immediately turned back around to me. "I'm angry, America, but hate you? I could never hate you."

I looked at the clock, "We have to start the day."

Maxon sat up and sighed. "I assume you'll want the rebel entail you missed?"

I nodded, "And I assume you'll have to talk to Kriss."

He buried his face in his hands "I don't know what am I going to say. I love America but she can't do this and told me to choose you."

"I'm sorry."

He just leaned over and kissed me, not wanting this to end.

I was curled up on a couch in the women's room, working through the last report, when Kriss stormed in.

"What the hell America!" She yelled at me, drawing the attention of Celeste, Elise, and the Queen.

I put the report down on the table and looked up at her. I guess Maxon had told her.

"What kind of idiot are you to give him up?! You clearly love him so what the hell is your problem!"

I didn't think she would be this angry. "Kriss, don't you love him? Why are you in here yelling at me instead of with Maxon."

"Because anyone with eyes knows he doesn't love me, America. I'm the girl in the love story nobody roots for. I'm not even rooting for myself anymore. You two should be together. So what the hell is your problem!"

I felt like someone just threw cold water on me when I was already awake. "I'm sure you have all realised by now there is a lot going on that you don't know about. It took me far too long to see it, but everything is screaming at me not to be a princess. I am so in love with Maxon that I was blind to it, but- I can't do this. There is something else that I have to do, not doing it would be disastrous. I mean just the fact that I was having doubts alone is a sign in it of itself. It being so hard was a sign. The king making too many valid points on why I shouldn't be, was a sign. But I see it now, so clearly. I just wish it didn't take me so long to get there."

"America that's not true. I don't know what the other thing is, but you'll make a great princess. And as long as you just love Maxon it will turn out fine."

"Kriss it's more complicated than that."

"Why?! Why can't you just love Maxon!" she yelled.

Something about how Kriss said that hit a part of me that I didn't know was there….no she threw the soldiers a rope and they climbed in masses out of the pit. Things I didn't know I felt because I buried them so deep, finally made me recognize their existence. And I yelled, "Because everyone I love dies! Do you know what that is like? At least sixteen people that I have loved have died. But I know that number is higher. I know every time someone I love walks away, that could be the last time I see them.

"Do you know what it's like?! To try and live life bracing yourself for the next death? No one is invincible. I wasn't ready for my dad to die, I wasn't braced. But I should have been because life has taught me that everyone I love dies."

I was now crying, but somehow still talking. "If I let myself feel everything I do for Maxon, if I just love him, and he dies, I'll completely shatter. I can't handle that. It's too much, it's all just too much." I took deep breaths as I gathered the reports and finished, "Illea deserves a queen who isn't broken."

I left the room, but I wasn't just feeling my father's death, I was feeling all of there's. It was too much. It was all just too much. I leaned against the wall in the hallway, breathing feeling impossible.

A guard moved over to me, "Miss are you okay."

"I'm fine." I managed as I scrapped my shoulder against the wall trying to move myself towards my room but completely unable to function. So I stopped and just cried into the wall.

I heard the queen's voice muffled from behind, then I felt a cool hand slip into my own. "America, can you hear me? We need to go to the infirmary." I shook my head. She might have said something else, but I couldn't hear her. I was completely consumed. It was like the dozens of lives were all waves crashing down on me simultaneously, giving me no break, they were all dead. How did I deal with this before? How did I ever keep moving.

I heard Maxon's voice though I didn't know what he was saying, he moved into me and pulled me into a hug. I tightly grabbed onto him and cried, "I'm sorry." His hand came to the back of my head and he hushed me. For a moment it felt better, but then it washed over me again and I couldn't breathe. I felt Maxon pick me up then lay me down on a bed somewhere. I curled into it trying to escape the endless cycle of pain I was trapped in. There was a pinch and everything went black.

When I came to, it seemed as though the sun was setting, or rising, I couldn't tell. I was calmer, I could breathe, but it still hurt.

"She's clearly in crisis, how do we know she'll feel the same way when she isn't anymore?" The queen asked.

I heard Edger's voice reply. "We don't but it could have been a realization more than just panicking."

"What do you mean? Clearly she's panicking." Maxon tried.

"It sounds like she's reliving all the deaths. America never really dealt with them in the first place. The rest of us would take time to mourn, but she was too afraid to stop. She'd give herself a day tops and then go on."

Maxon's voice sounded shocked. "I know how deeply she feels, surely she couldn't deal with their death in a day."

"No she can't." Edger asserted. "I think the first time she was forced to confront those feelings was now. She would always jump right into trying to do better. It was like she thought if she could fix it, she could bring them back. She never got over them, she just kept trying to save them over and over again, then blaming herself when another would die. Haven't you seen it? The way she talks about all of it? She's trying to save them."

He was right. That's exactly what I do. I try to make it better for the next one, what else could I do?

"Then couldn't she just be doing that now? Not necessarily deciding, but just trying to save them?" The queen asked.

I sat up on the bed, legs draped over the bed opposite them, eyes trained out the window. "That's exactly what I'm trying to do. It's what I have always tried to do, but it's also the only way I can live with myself. For better or worse the only way I can cope, is to try and make it better for the next person. I will not apologize for that."

"But My Love, that isn't coping." Maxon moved right behind me. "It's a loop you've caught yourself in."

"No it's surviving. I can live with myself if I choose the option that destroys my life, but saves others. But I cannot live with the option that destroys others lives so I can get some ceblence of happiness. People deserve better. This isn't a choice I made because I'm upset. It just took me being upset to snap me far enough out of the love hase to see it.

"I can not make the same difference as a queen as I can as an advisor, and we all know that. The queen has minimal say in the direction of the country, and is oriented at being a social position not a political one. My job would be to pariot the decisions, not to make them; and help run the country indirectly through fundraisers and political presence, not through policy changes. The job of Queen is an important one, but it is not a position I would save lives in. And to be blunt I'm an amazing advisor. With my ability to interpret large amounts of information into useful details there are millions of lives only I could save and improve.

"Choosing you at the expense of others will destroy me. It will mean defecating on the memory of those who died because the world failed them. It would mean me getting so close to finally doing something that would really, truly, make a difference to then turn my back on them." Tears trickled down my face but I kept the assertive tone in my voice. "They deserve better. I don't know how else to make you get it. It isn't a choice, it's an obligation."

Then I finally got Elise and finished, more to myself. "There are some things bigger than love."

Edger sat down next to me and rested his head on my shoulder. "You don't have to destroy yourself for them. They were all happier than they had ever been because of you. They would want you to be happy."

"Most of them died trying to make something better. And it's more than them, it's just bigger." I turned to Edger, "It's the living. It's the twenty seven of you in the castle. It's the twenty others that I hope are alive and well in the world. It's the thousands of eightborns, and the millions of people in the lower castes. I need to do this for the living, so they stay alive." I hugged him and he understood. "Tell the kids I love them." He nodded and left the room.

I finally turned around and saw the king was also there, he hadn't said anything. I tried to stand up, but Maxon had to grab my arm and lower me back to the bed. "For once My America, take it easy." I chuckled at him. I'm not sure that's in my nature.

I addressed the king, "Your Highness, I am afraid I was not able to finish…" I guessed on the day. "Today's position report, but it shouldn't take too long, and I can do any additional analysis required."

"No need. We have what you have done so far."

"Sir it's really no problem…" the cracking in my voice not helping my case.

"America, you are no good to us in crisis." He turned to leave but then added. "Take care of yourself." It was the closest thing to a concern for me, not my abilities, but me that I had ever seen from him. And I wasn't quite sure where it came from.

I really did feel as if I could do it. Maybe I was being idealistic. It still felt like there was a gaping hole where my heart should be. Maxon walked me back to my room and gave my maids some instructions I didn't quite hear. I was stuck inside my head again.

I didn't need to know what they were saying to know they were comforting me. By the growing darkness I know I had guessed right in assuming it was sunset. My maids bathed and clothed me. I was absolutely no help. I could breathe, but I could barely talk, couldn't process much of what was happening, and I think I'm crying. It's hard to tell. It's all just a blur. Why can't I pull myself together? I should be able to pull myself together.

I moved to my bed, but my maids said something and took my hand. We walked somewhere, it felt cold compared to my room. I saw Maxon's face and started babbling, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't."

He pulled me into a hug and I felt immediately better, like he was a piece of me that was missing and now that we were together I was more whole. "I'm not asking you to marry me. I just want to be here for you."

"But I'm breaking your heart." I cried.

"Break my heart. Break it a thousand times if you like. It was only ever yours to break."

I don't think it was his words that reassured me as much as it was how sure he was. We walked over to the bed and climbed in. He sat behind me soothing me. We were there together, and I didn't feel so broken.

When I opened my eyes I could still feel Maxon close to me. He had a report in front of us that he was marking up. I took a deep breath in and looked around the room finally beginning to take things in again.

"What time is it?" I asked him.

"Eleven Thirty at night." He responded putting his report down on the bedside table and wrapping his strong arms around me.

"I lost most the day." It was a simple statement, but it was what I could manage.

"That's okay. You had a hard day, it's okay."

"I feel...helpless." And I meant it in every meaning of the word. I was too broken to help, I wasn't strong enough to stop reliving all the times my world had crumbled, and at the same time I was trying to rip Maxon away from me. Life without Maxon feels empty, but choosing him is worse than emptiness, it's this helpless crumbing feeling every day.

What I said to Kriss couldn't stop echoing in my head. She asked me why I couldn't just love Maxon and I told her it's because everyone I love dies. I hadn't made the connection before, but maybe there was more to this. Maybe I was also scared, but does that fear even matter?

A few minutes later Maxon spoke up. "Do you want to watch a movie? There is a TV right behind that picture."

I turned my head to look at him, "You have a hidden TV in your room?"

He smiled, "Perks of being a prince." He pulled a remote out of his night stand, pressed a button and the painting moved to reveal a large, flat screen, TV. I thought I was in the future. We watched a bunch of old comedies. Maxon fell asleep before me. I smiled to myself knowing Maxon never sleeps, before eventually I falling asleep in his arms.

The next day was much better. I wasn't panicking. I could breathe, engage in conversions, walk around. I could function. But I still hurt. It was the pain of those who died, yes, but that had become a dull pain in the background. In the forefront was the heartbreak, a heartbreak so painful I was almost ready to cave, almost.

I didn't want to face the other girls, so I went to my garden gremlins. I played violin for them, and gave lots of hugs, and practiced self defense, and gave them history lessons, and practiced writing in english. It was so much like it used to be. They're my life, always have been and always will be. I felt the hole from the ones that were gone, but just focused on the ones that were still here. It's about the living.

In the late afternoon Maxon found us. I was practicing spanish with Geo, and Maxon came up behind us asking, "Puedo hablar con America, por favor." Geo went to play to with the others and Maxon sat on the floor next to me.

"The report starts in about an hour. You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"Won't that look odd?"

"Your father died a week ago, I doubt anyone will think too much of it. Besides it won't matter soon enough." Maxon was right. If he wasn't picking me, appearances matter a whole lot less. "Just do what's best for you."

I nodded. "I think I should go…..But I also think you should eliminate me."

Maxon's head whipped to make eye contact with me faster than I thought was humanly possible. "Why would I do that?"

"You're not going to pick me. It gives you a bit more time to figure out who of the remaining three you really want. We know the public is itching for a choice…"

"You're right. I do have to choose soon, very soon, but I am not going to eliminate you. I know you probably won't, but I want to give you every second I can to change your mind." I could see into his soul where his heartbreak was. The pain I caused us both.

"Okay." I replied, my voice soft. "I'll draft a statement to deliver to the public after the proposal so we don't have riots. They need to know it was my choice, not your father's, that stopped us from being together."

He nodded. It was all business. I wanted to vomit again, but instead Maxon offered me his hand to stand, and we went to get ready for the report.

I sat in the report room not engaged at all, I kept thinking and trying to find the right words to explain to the public my decision. Trying to figure out how to make it sound genuine and elegant enough that they can accept their new queen without doubt. Celeste must have noticed my incognizant haze for she slipped her hand into mine to share my pain. After a minute or so Kriss looked over and slipped her hand into Celeste's. Then shortly after Elise slipped her hand into Kriss's. And I was connected to them. They were there to share this anguish.

I was in my room after the report when Maxon knocked on the door. It was already open and we locked eyes. I hadn't expected him to come. We always see each other after the reports but now….we're nothing we've been before.

"I need to tell you I'm ending the selection." I had been expecting it, but my breath still hitched.

He came in and stood closer than two people who can't be together should, "I eliminated Elise. If you're still sure you want nothing with me I'll choose Kriss. With her it will be the smoothest transition and I know she would be a good queen. If you decide you still want there to be an us, but stay an advisor, I'll choose Celeste. She would happily take the public spotlight without being a couple. And if you change your mind entirely. I'll choose you in a heartbeat. You have until I have to stand and announce my wife to decide. The reception will be the day after tomorrow."

"Maxon you should choose whichever of the two of them would make you happier…" I pleaded.

"You STILL don't get it." He turned away from me, and leaned on the little desk. "We always kept Kriss around as this 'second choice' this 'just in case girl' this 'girl I would be able to be happy with' but she's not. Maybe at some points she was the slightest bit measurable when compared to you but now…. America it doesn't matter which of them I choose, because to me they're both just not you. I can't think of them in any other way, they mean nothing to me romantically, they're not you. Maybe one day in the far future I could feel something small for Kriss, but that would be it, ever. They're not you."

"I don't know what to say." I felt the same way, no one else was Maxon. No one else would ever be him.

He turned back to me and begged. "Tell me to choose Celeste. Tell me you're giving up the position but not me. Tell me I will be able to kiss you for the rest of my life. Tell me I'll be allowed to be there to comfort you when you're sad. Because I'll never love them America, so your fears about that are mute."

I turned away from him. "I don't know how to love you without it breaking me anymore."

"Let's play a game." I just stared at him. He wants to play a game. Now. "Just tell me how you feel okay." I nodded, why not. He started walking away from me. "How do you feel."

I was like someone was trying to rip a piece of me away. "Bad." I managed.

He walked back towards me. "How do you feel now."

"Better."

He walked right up to me and looked me in the eye, connecting our souls. "How about now?"

"Complete."

He picked up my hand. "And now?"

The connection made me feel safe, reminded me he was real. "Relieved."

He leaned in and kissed me so soft and full of love. I moved closer to him and kissed him deeper. In between kisses he whispered, "Now?"

"I love you." I admitted.

He broke the kiss and put his forehead to mine leaving his hands on my waist. "Then it sounds to me like whether you think you do or not you know how to love me. You're already doing it."

I tried to move away but his grasp on me gently tightened, and it was enough to make me not want to leave. "I'm broken My Maxon. I probably have abandonment issues and more insecurities then I am willing to admit. I'm too broken for love."

He kissed me again, "I know you're broken. That doesn't scare me. The only thing that scares me is not having you."

"I'll probably freak out again...many times."

"And I'll be right here to help you through." He promised.

"And you won't hate me for not being your wife?"

"You're the only one I want as my wife. But if you can't do that, I can live with just having you. I don't need you to stand in front of everyone and promise you'll be by my side forever to know it's true."

"Choose Celeste." I resolved. He kissed me again, "I want you. I need you, in whatever way that is." He kissed me again and moved us to the bed. "Choose Celeste."

(Harsh T)

Maxon's hand moved up my dress finding the zipper and pulling it down. My dress fell to the floor and his suit jacket went next. He lifted me out of the pile my dress made on the ground and placed me in the middle of the bed. He broke the kiss long enough to say "I love you and only you."

I responded in kind, "My Maxon, you're my one and only." We went back to kissing and my hands worked down his buttons, peeling his shirt off slowly enough to give me a chance to feel across the lines of his muscles.

"I wish I could have you." Maxon whispered, breath hot on my ear.

"Just a few more days…." Even then it would technically be illegal, but as king that is one of those cases he's above the law. It may be unorthodox, but at least we'd be together forever.

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Do you think that is a good resolution for Maxon and America's relationship? Comment what you think. (there is three more chapters and an epilogue for those wondering.)

Author's note 1 part 2: If you're even more mad at the author clap your hands: *clap* *clap*. If you're mad at the author and you want to show your passion, drop a rant in the comments, go ahead. *clap* *clap*

Thanks for reading. As always please comment! I love to hear your thoughts!