All rights to Kiera Cass. Parts labeled "cass" are direct quotes from the original books, however, even in other parts Cass's writing may be intertwined.

This story is rated M for sexual themes.

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Author's note 1: I am going to switch to a quasi-weekly chapter release! I am writing closer to one chapter a week so I am going to give that a try. Every once in a while I may need to take a week off to account for not writing quite as fast as once a week. The next chapter will come out 4/18.

Author's note 2: This is a really long chapter and will be the last one in the France arc.

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CHAPTER 7

A few knocks on the door woke us up. The door cracked open and we heard Junespring, "Your highness, are you decent?"

Maxon and I had fallen asleep in what we were wearing the night before, his arms still wrapped tightly around me. Maxon cleared his throat, and stood before replying, "Yes, come in."

I stood as well and quickly fixed the bed so it wouldn't look as suspicious. Junespring entered and glanced at me, clearly surprised. "Lady America, I didn't expect to see you here so early."

"I was just discussing some details of...French culture with the Prince." I reply vaguely.

"Well, this concerns you both." He holds out a virtual newspaper. On the first page is a picture of Prince Gregory kissing my hand in front of the Eiffel Tower titled, "Is it Possible Lady America of Illea will be a Princess After All?"

Maxon's ears go bright red, but he tries his best to hold it together. As Maxon's hands ball into fists by his sides I comment, "It's purely a celebrity gossip. I will not be a French Princess because Prince Gregory and I are nothing more than friends."

Maxon didn't seem to calm down much, his eyes glued to the picture. From Junespring's look, I could tell he brought this to the prince's attention because he expected a reaction much like this. I had to agree, better now than in the middle of a meeting.

The door was pushed open more by an overly cheery demeanor. "Ah good, I see you're all in one place." He glanced down at the virtual newspaper, "And you've all seen the good news too." Maxon and I looked at the king like he was crazy, but Junespring had no reaction.

"Your Majesty you know it isn't true…." I started.

"Of course I do. You still don't want to be a princess. However, it does help to solve the issue of people assuming you being in the castle must mean you're still with Maxon." The manipulative smile on his face stirred my stomach. "We will need to announce you're an advisor soon, and when we do, leaking this will give the public something else to sink their teeth into."

"You want to print that picture all over the country?" Maxon asked, nearly shaking in anger.

"Coroniel Junespring, would you excuse us." Junespring left promptly. The door clunking shut behind him. "Yes, and you should thank me."

"Thank you. For putting that horrible picture everywhere." Maxon countered.

"For making it so you can have your way with her without it ruining her life." Maxon stopped protesting, and I reached over and turned off the News Paper.

"Your father's right, Maxon. It's not ideal, but at least we'll both know it doesn't mean anything." I tried.

"And the rest of the world will think you've went and fallen for some other guy, that we're-"

"Not together in any capacity." I finished for him. "That's kind of the goal Maxon. Because we shouldn't be."

He looked me cold in the eye, "Don't start this again. We both know-"

I cut him off, "What we should be is different than what we are. And to be clear I am still fighting that."

He scoffed, "And you're doing such a great job at that."

"You're not making it easy."

"That's the difference between you and I, America. You see being with me as a choice, I see being with you as a necessity. I don't function without you." Our eyes locked and the air in the room thinned. "I don't want the whole world to think you're someone else's when in our hearts we know your mine."

I broke the eye contact, "That's the difference between you and me, Maxon. I know when a want is frivolous. I don't like it, but the photo should be printed."

"You're not the one who hurts every time they see it."

"And you're not the one who lives against societal expectations." It came out harsher than I intended, but I pressed on. "You were born a prince. While you may not be taken seriously now, one day you will be king. I was born a woman in the lower castes. Time will never grant me power. I have to fight for it every step of the way against everything society will throw at me. So if this will make that climb easier, or even possible, I would hope you would be willing to look at a picture a few times to stop years of me being called a skank and undercut from opportunities."

Maxon's eyes widened, "America I didn't realize."

"Why would you have?" I pushed past Maxon, excusing myself. I don't really feel like continuing this conversation.

In my room, I put on small hoop earrings and a fresh dress, then reviewed Illea's points on why France shouldn't enter the war. That's why we're here isn't it. Not for constant boy drama, but to stop an international crisis.

I made my way downstairs a little bit early and ran into Daphne. She immediately pulled me aside. "I saw the newspapers."

Of course she did. "Princess Daphne I'm no-"

"I have talked to my brother. I am aware of your well-defined friendship." Under normal circumstances I probably would have blushed, but the way she said it didn't bother me. "I also have seen how a certain Illean Prince looks at you" That however did solicit a blush, "I can't imagine he took this well." My silence was the only answer she needed. "Lady America, I know we didn't get off to the best start, which was my fault, but I hope you believe me that I really do want to be friends."

She was so genuine I didn't know what to say. I have gotten so used to girls with ulterior motives, that it has become my default. But is it possible not all girls do? That outside the realm of an insane love competition girls are just girls?

I guess I was silent a little too long. "That's okay. We don't have to be friends." Daphne continued, walking away.

"No, wait." She stopped. "Friends sounds...nice." I gave her a little smile and she returned a beaming one.

"Well Lady America, I'm so glad we're friends. At risk of sounding creepy you always looked like such a fun person to be around during the selection."

"Please, call me America. And that's not creepy, I have been informed the whole world was collectively stalking us." We laughed together.

"Well if I'm calling you America, you should call me Daphne."

We chatted for a few more minutes before entering the meeting room. Our easy laughs cut off by the sharp, tense atmosphere. We moved to opposite sides of the white table and the negotiations continued. They were long, tedious, and got us absolutely nowhere.

During every break, Maxon kept coming to talk to me, and maybe it was immature, but I blew him off. My job right now is to advise, not be sucked in to more self made drama. Frankly, I can't blame anyone else for this situation, it's entirely of my own making, and entirely my own decision to ignore it for a while.

I lay in bed flipping through a french history book I borrowed from their library, trying to find why they are so offended and if there is any other way out of this. So far I haven't found a single other case similar to this one, nor have any idea why France is so intent this is war worthy.

There's a knock at the door. I roll my eyes. Maxon. "I don't want to talk, Maxon, I'm busy."

The door creaked open a little. The room filled with the warmth of a female's french accented voice, "Would you still be busy if I wasn't Maxon."

I rolled off the bed and stood facing the long brown-haired french princess. "Daphne."

She pushed the door properly open and stepped in. "I didn't mean to startle." she glanced down at the book, "You know you don't have to use those. All of our history is digital."

I shrugged, "Almost nothing is digital in Illea. It's just easier this way."

"Well if you wanted to ditch the extra work I was hoping we could hang out just us girls." I glanced back at the book, and she cut in, "I don't have many friends. Being heir to the crown means endless work, as I'm sure you're aware from Maxon, and sometimes it can be isolating."

I close the book and set it safely on the bedside table. "If I'm being honest I was just looking for an excuse to avoid Maxon. I'm mostly here as an observer anyway."

She smiled and took my hand, "Come with me." Daphne dragged me through the halls of the castle like we were five, but I didn't mind. It was nice not to try to be wise beyond years. She brought me to a large circulander room with several smaller rooms branching out of it. The white main room went by as a blur as she pulled me into the second side room. The walls were a deep purple and the floor a white-grey marble. In the middle was a tall bed with a frame that went to the ceiling and had light purple curtains. Daphne ripped one of the curtains back and ran to a closet grabbing a basket.

"So tell me America, what do girls do when they hang out. I have seen some things from movies, but I was never sure what was true." She pulled out items from the basket as she talked, "Paint nails, gossip about boys, have pillow fights, eat candies and watch romantic movies…."

I sat down on the floor next to her, "You've really never hung out with a girl before."

Daphne shrugged, "A few other princess or high up dignitaries here and there. My closest friend was Maxon and I only saw him two or three times a year...nevermind that." She finally looked up at me. "Sorry if I am coming on a little strong. It's just, I've dreamed about having one day where I could just be a normal girl for as long as I can remember. With the princesses and dignitaries, I had to remain constantly poised and proper. It was what we were all raised to be. But you are far freer and…" She shook her head and started putting the nail polish and cheap jewels back into the basket. "Nevermind I just heard how dumb I sound."

I placed my hand over hers before taking the nail polish back out. "We do paint nails and watch movies, but the pillow fights are mostly in movies." She smiled and helped me take out the rest of what seemed to be a collection of stereotypical girly stuff. Well, at least when it comes to me, not all of the stereotypes are wrong. We tried on various dresses for Daphne's closet. I wore a long green dress with cheap green jewels laid across my head like a fo crown as Daphne swiped revealing some holographic wall camera and snapping photos of us. Her yellow dress danced around me as the happiness danced around the room. The french music that played in the background was far more upbeat and scandalous than the Illean music. One song was about knowing the girl for you by how you fit in her, a song that wouldn't be caught dead inside Illean borders.

Once we were all danced out we moved to her bed and broke out the nailpolish. I chose a light pink and daphne went for a bright red. "You know, I'm sure we'll have to remove this or get it fixed before tomorrow morning." I commented.

Daphne laughed as she swiped poorly and got more nailpolish on her finger than nail. "Well I am confident I will get my full nail covered; I just may cover the finger as well." After I showed Daphne some tricks, and she made mild improvement, she turned the tone of the conversation, "So I believe a tradition of these girl hang outs is the infamous 'boy talk'. So tell me: how are things between you and Maxon?"

I froze. How do I get out of this safely? I took a risk, "I thought you would be far more interested with how things are going between your brother and I."

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Nice try. I know there is nothing going on between you and my little brother."

"I wish Maxon had the same confidence in that." I mumbled under my breath, but from the snap of Daphne's neck I was not quiet enough.

"Don't tell me MaxAmerica is fighting!" Cute. She mashed our names together.

I let myself plop back onto the bed, "There never was a 'MaxAmerica'. Not really."

"What do you mean?"

I considered not telling her, but I needed to say it to someone. Just let our story finally exist somewhere besides my head. "We weren't a couple during the selection. I was hung up on someone else and Maxon respected that. We were just friends. Friends who started to fall for each other. And with the worst timing in history told each other how we really felt the night before I was eliminated."

"Why did he eliminate you then? It never made sense. Everyone can see the way he looks at you-"

"His father did. Maxon's choice would have been to keep me in the selection. But it doesn't matter now; I'm not an option anymore. I'm just his friend again."

"But surely you guys must want to be more: with how you look at each other and what you just said- But it wouldn't matter would it. It's the same as me. Marriage is the ultimate trap of the crown." Daphne stared down at her red stained hands.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't get to marry for love. I don't even get to marry for like. I don't even get much of a choice in my marriage." She stood up now, frustration radiating, "My father wouldn't care if the man planned to beat me nightly as long as he came from a noble line. The whole thing is messed up."

"So you get no choice."

"I get to choose out of three. The King and advisors will choose three eligible bachelors, then I will be presented with write-ups of them, talk to each for fifteen minutes, and have 48 hours to decide who I marry." Her voice turned sad, "At times I envied Maxon for the selection. A choice of thiry with no set time limit. While it's far from ideal, at least he had the chance of love." She made eye contact with me, "Although, Kings not caring about love seems to be a common theme."

I stood up and hugged her. She flinched a bit at first, but didn't resist. It wasn't hard to see she wasn't often comforted. I didn't have any words to help. She didn't want my pity, didn't need hollow advice, and I couldn't relate with the scenario. I could, however, just be here for her. So I hugged her, let her body relax, and even a few tears flow before she pulled away.

"We should head down for dinner."

While last night we didn't have dinner with the French royal family, tonight we stuck to tradition. Daphne and I entered last. She took her seat on the left side of the table with the rest of the French family and the advisors involved with the negotiations. Right, in France they segregate the parties during negotiations or disagreements and allow for free mingling once everything is sorted out. It's not a policy that travels outside of meals, and I would be lying if I said I completely understood it, but in this case it meant the only free seat on the left side was next to Maxon. Pleasant conversations picked up across various parties as the courses flowed through.

Once the chatter was at a reasonable level, Maxon, who had been trying to catch my eye all night, finally dared to speak. "You're right America. I was being selfish. We can print the picture, put it on billboards, whatever you want, just please look at me." I didn't oblige. "I'm sorry America. I was so caught up in our feelings for each other I never stopped to think about how this could affect your career. I should have. I'm sorry." I still wouldn't look at him. "Tell me what it will take for you to look at me. I'll do it. Please, I just can't take it knowing you're mad at me."

I finally looked back at him and had to actively fight the melting of my soul into his. "I just can't fight right now Maxon."

"There's no fight. You win. You're righ-"

I cut him off, "That's not the fight I'm talking about. The way you're feeling now, were feeling this morning, last night, it's all because what we have is so fragile. It exists delicately in the space between me and the world fighting it, and our feelings pushing for it. A strong gust of wind could knock it all out of whack. For as much as I fight it, I'm not really fighting am I? I'm just fighting just enough I have the ethical blanket. So for now at least, I need to stay away. I need to not have to fight my feelings."

"But America, you're still my best friend. You aren't really going to just stop talking to me." His voice was low and desperate, but his face maintained the practiced mask."

"Best Friend seems to involve an awful lot of kissing these days." From the slight tweak in his face I knew he got my point, "It's not for forever, just a day or two; I need to try and figure this out."

"What is there to figure out? It seems like we have a pretty good handle on the situation and simply don't like it."

"Well that would be step one wouldn't it. Figuring out what we're missing."

The next day was much like the one before. France and Illea were talking in circles, both sides repeating their arguments without listening to the words of the other. If this is how diplomacy is handled it's a miracle anything ever gets done. France doesn't think their presence will cause a world war, Illea does. Illea doesn't think they should be so concerned in their honor, France does. Congratulations, you now are caught up on the past three days.

That night I watched a French comedy with Gregory and Daphne. They were impressed with how many of the French puns I got. It's one thing to speak a language and another to understand its humor. The intense study of France as of recent has certainly helped. It occurred to me that I could use this time to try and better understand France's side, but we spent 8 hours a day speaking on this, I didn't need to ruin the shred of free time we had. Well Daphne and I had, Gregory had far less responsibilities. He told us all about his attempts to find Désespérée, or more accurately highly unsuccessful attempts. She's not a girl who wants to be tracked down, but if anyone can do it, a prince can.

As I tried to drift to sleep I noticed I hadn't talked to Maxon directly today, and he hadn't come to me. I knew he was trying to respect that I wanted space, but right now that seemed like such a dumb ask. I want nothing more than to climb into bed with him and have him hold me to the crack of dawn: pampering me with little kisses and spoiling me in love. I miss his brown eyes's devotion to every word I said and his boyish smile creeping in whenever I would confound him. I love him….I, love, Maxon. I, America Singer, am in love with one prince of Illea Maxon Schreave. This is no little crush, or developing feelings. I love him. Fuck. I love him. No stop that. You, America Singer, cannot love Maxon Schreave. You, America Singer, are to be his friend and serve Illea and be happy for him when he chooses a wife (that won't be you) and not dream of kissing him or worse. You America Singer cannot be in love with Maxon Schreave because you are not allowed to. I forbid it. Yet I am anyway. And this back and forth resistance won't do anything to help. All it will do is act like a yoyo that will end with us together anyways, because I love him. I cannot say that to him, how am I even saying that to myself? How do I even know it myself? Because it's just true. My love for him is just, there, in my heart. I can't do anything but choose to cave. Does caving mean I am a bad person? Maybe. But not caving will just hurt the boy I love. I can't keep hurting Maxon and I can't choose to be without him, not really.

Without bothering to change out of my nightgown I knocked on his door down the hall. A stubble had set into his face. He ran his fingers through his hair before freezing when he saw it was me.

"Hi." I squeaked out pathetically. He opened the door wider and I walked in. I could tell he was pondering what to say, but he didn't say anything. He was probably too scared he'd ruin this. I took a deep breath and spoke, "I had time to think...and I don't want to hurt you." He looked down, definitely thinking this is the end. "What I said the other day was true. I wasn't truly trying to stay away, and that's cause I can't. So I can fight the inevitable and hurt us more or just give in." Maxon's brown eyes held on to every word, "I give in. I want you Maxon. I want you so much my entire body aches for you. I wa-" I never got to finish my sentence. Maxon had closed the gap between us and swiped his lips onto mine. Taking a kiss that could never be stolen again because I was his: physically, mentally, emotionally. I admit it with all the costs. I'm his.

He broke the kiss, "America you're not going to wake up tomorrow and change your mind are you? Because I don't know if I could take that."

"No. I'm not going to change my mind. I can't stay away. You said it first, and maybe it was selfish, but it was also true. You can't stay away, I can't stay away, so why the hell are we pretending."

Maxon in one swoop pulled my night dress over my head. Then cupped my face and kissed me deeply. We couldn't get close enough. We needed more. I stripped his tie, shirt, and pants, my shaking hands not helping it go faster. It's been too long since I've touched him like this. After everything we've been through in the last few days I needed to. Once he stood in his underwear, Maxon grabbed my ass and pulled me into him. His lips danced hard on my own. He wasn't as gentle as usual, and I didn't mind. I wasn't craving cute and soft anyway. Maxon rubbed his hands on my ass and desire pulsed through my body making my knees buckle. Maxon caught me from falling, picked me up, and placed me on the bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed I spread my legs to let Maxon come closer. He bent down and sucked on my neck leaving me to throw my head back, a common response to Maxon's touch. For someone supposedly inexperienced, he's rather talented.

A moan escaped my lips and Maxon's hands covered my mouth. My heart race increased. We weren't supposed to do this in France, I can only imagine what the King would do if he caught us. I suspect Maxon has a similar thought because he left me to lock the door. His scars facing me. No matter how much I wanted to do this, the risk seemed too high, seemed unfair for me to accept when Maxon would face the brunt of it. But when he pressed his back to the door, his eyes locked in mine, I knew he accepted the risk without hesitation.

In three easy steps he closed the gap to me, and pushed me further up on the bed. I reached for his bare shoulder, encouraging him to come closer to me. He climbs up, nipping at my exposed skin along the way before focusing on my jaw. The way he treats every spot of me as deserving of devotion in it of itself is enough to make me adhere to his every will.

I flip him over, climbing on top of him to display my devotion, which runs just as deep as his. As I peel my teeth lightly off his lips, Maxon's hands come to my hips. While usually when on top he leaves me in control, in this case he did no such thing. I feel the pressure of his fingers digging in. His eyes meet mine, full of passion. He pushes my hips back and down. I gasp a little as a feel his dick pressed against my pussy, only two thin pieces of fabric in between. My stomach fills with an intense heat at the new feeling. All sense gone from my brain all I can think is that I want more. I need more. I need more. I start moving myself around on him trying to get more of the feeling. Muffled grunts escaped Maxon's voice, he must feel it too. The so good, need more feeling. Maxon's hands on my hips tightened and began to guide me rhythmically over him.

"America." he huffs out and I reward him with a hard kiss on the lips. Maxon's hands travel from my hips to the small of my back. His thumbs trace the line of my panties. I break the kiss and meet his eyes, the question in them clear. I nod. I am his. I just am, and I want him to take me. But as Maxon's thumbs hook into my panties he shakes his head, kisses me lightly, and rolls me off him.

Before I can second guess what just happened Maxon sits up and guides me in between his legs, his arms wrapped around my waist. "You mean the world to me America and that's why I can't."

He was right of course. Now that some sense is coming back to me I see how awful that will go. Maxon still can't marry me. To not be a virgin before marriage, and especially to be taken by a man besides your husband, is disgraceful.

I turn my head to rest it against Maxon's shoulder and he gently kisses my head. I sigh before speaking, "I think we need some ground rules."

He sighs too, "I agree. If we are really going to do this we need to be on the same page. First of all, no sex. We've gone farther than we really should as it is, but technically we haven't broken any laws yet."

"That sounds so easy, but in the moment…."

"Believe me I know. I think it will help if we leave underwear on as to keep a physical barrier." I nod. We were basically just agreeing not to go any farther than we have already gone.

"This needs to be a secret." I add, "It's bad enough your father knows anything, but that has to be where it ends. We can't even give people a reason to suspect. Better yet let's not even talk about non-advising work when others are around."

Maxon chuckles a little and pulls me closer. "I agree subtlety is necessary, especially with how this can affect your carrier, but I don't think we need to go as far as not talking in public."

I thought for a moment. "A compromise then: No touching of any form in public. It's not really acceptable anyways, and no talking about anything relationshipy or saying any cute things."

"Well I can agree with no touching and not saying anything that if overheard could be evidence of a relationship. However, I don't think I can agree to no cute things." He purses his nose, "You're just too cute. I will agree to only say them if I'm confident no one is listening."

I move a way a little bit to look at him. "That's risky."

He shrugged, "Only slightly. Besides nothing would ever leave the castle walls. Yes, I know enough damage could be done within castle walls, but it won't get there." I look at him still unsure. "It's a compromise. No one gets their way but everyone gets something livable."

"Why is that livable?"

"Because it preserves what I really want out of being able to be with you openly, which is being able to tell you how amazing you are." I blush, "And it preserves what you want which is the relationship not interfering with your career." Maxon kept talking, more to the room now, "A good compromise preserves what each party really wants without the outcome looking like what either party wanted. We haven't been compromising with France, we've been debating. We both want the other to conform to our side, but that won't happen."

Maxon kisses me on the cheek then stands up and puts on his pants. "Maxon what are you talking about?"

"France wants to feel they have attequittly addressed New Asia's slander, we want to stop a world war. We have to stop fighting for France not entering the war versus France entering the war and compromise on the core issue. It's so simple, but we are all far too stubborn to see it."

My head spun trying to process this. Though it did make sense. "But what's the solution then? If it's not really about France entering the war."

Maxon turned to look at me as he buttoned his last button, "I don't know yet, but I intend to figure it out before morning light."

"It'll go faster with two people." I point out.

Maxon came to me and kissed me lightly, "Sweat heart, I want you to get some sleep." I cock my head, and Maxon cups my cheek, "You really scared me last time, America. I don't want to see you like that ever again."

I guess I did kind of earn that one. "I won't over do it, I promise. Besides, this is just one night. I'll be fine."

Maxon picks up my night dress and hands it to me. "Promise me you'll go to sleep at 4am." I nod. That would only be three hours of sleep, but we both know it is far better than nothing.

Maxon knew how to use the historical database and it did make the search go much faster. We were able to find dozens of other alternatives to declaring war. While many of them were aggressive, by Illea denouncing the actions of France it should avoid an escalation to war. To me it felt like a bit of a gamble, but the cultural patterns Maxon pointed to made it seem like the strategy should hold. At 4am I left and Maxon ranked the actions based on which ones were least likely to trigger a world war. I was exhausted, and was out within seconds of plopping onto the bed.

Morning came too soon, but I was awakened by a sweet-bitter smell. "Coffee?" I mutter while rubbing my eyes. I wasn't a big coffee fan before becoming a junior advisor, but I have learned to tolerate it as a consequence of all the late nights.

I feel the shifting of the bed as someone sits by my feet. "I figured you may appreciate a cup after our late night."

I sit up, my hair tossed, but I don't care. I reach for the cup and take a sip. It's presweetened and not too hot, just how I like it. I blink my eyes against the glare of the light, it's day already. And if everything goes as planned my last day in France. I turn my attention back to Maxon, and reach for him. He leans in and I awarded him with a small peck, "Thank you for the coffee, you're always looking out for me."

He shifts so he is sitting next to me, and I allow my head to fall onto his shoulder. "And I always will." He promises, "No matter what happens I am always going to care about what happens to you. It's beyond my control."

"As I will always care about you."

After a few more minutes Maxon spoke up, "You know you actually have to move to start the day."

He laughs as I groan, "I usually love this job, but this moment is so perfect I could stay here forever."

"While I would tend to agree if we never move we'll miss out on all the other perfect moments we'll create." My heart melts as it so easily does with him. He isn't perfect, but he's pretty damn close.

"Like the perfect moment when we see the look on your father's face after cracking the France delema." And it was perfect.

Maxon had asked his father and Junespring to meet before the meeting and delivered a flawless rundown of his proposal. Maxon's ability to quickly and effectively communicate will always astound me. The King's eyes ran over the paper Maxon had handed him several times after Maxon stopped speaking. He was clearly trying to find a hole, but couldn't. He looked to Junespring who simply nodded.

When we stood on the opposite side of a white table from the French, Maxon led the proposal. Luckly enough, we were able to get them to agree to a display that was highly unlikely to lead to a world war. France would be cutting all trading with New Asian and releasing a public statement to their grievances. New Asia and France do not have strong trading relations as it is so not much will change, but the statement was made.

Five hours later I was in the French room packing my bag. A little knock alerted me to the presence of others. "Thought you could sneak away without saying goodbye?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." I respond to the French Prince and Princess.

I give them both hugs, and after Daphne's she grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eye. "You and Maxon figured it out. You're together now."

I felt my cheeks turn a color resembling my hair, "I-"

"You're glowing." Gregory comments, "Love looks good on you."

"Umm no I wouldn't say..." No, no, I definitely would.

Daphne rolls her eyes, "You love Maxon and Maxon loves you. You aren't fooling anyone, including your selves."

I didn't think it was possible but my cheeks got redder. If I am this easy to read I really need to work on my expressions before I get back to the castle. Otherwise our no telling people rule won't mean anything.

"Don't worry we won't say anything." Gregory promised. Daphne looks a little disappointed, but he elbowed her and she agreed, "Besides, we're just speculating, we don't really know anything."

I take this as an opportunity to change the conversation, "I don't foresee me being in France again anytime soon, do you think you'll come to Illea soon."

"In December Illea always hosts a Winter Ball for all their allies. We will almost certainly be in attendance." Daphne responds.

"Then till December."

The plane ride back was much more enjoyable than the plane ride here. Sleep was much easier with Maxon as a human pillow. And finally Maxon and I didn't have this big rift between us. There were still issues of course. Well, the world was the issue, but it's easier to face the world with him by my side.

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Thanks for reading! I am going to switch to a quasi-weekly! I am writing closer to one chapter a wee so we are going to give that a try, but every once in a while I may need to take a week off. Next chapter will come out 4/18.

What did you think of America's love epiphany? Did she do the right thing staying with Maxon?

Please comment, like this story, and follow! Comments will make me write faster! Since this is an in-progress story I have some ideas of where this is going, but not everything is set in stone so drop a comment to potentially influence the plot!