I don't own The Selection.
"He's waking up," Someone said.
"Get the doctor," Someone else said.
I opened my eyes to see a room of my father's advisors and a maid or two. Gavril, Stavros, and Silvia; the unexpected trio, were also here. No one looked happy. They looked relatively sad.
There was a sharp pain in my chest, making me wince. I looked down to see that I was in pajamas, with my arm in a cast and bulky bandages underneath where my heart was.
I remembered bits and pieces of the attack, but I was surprised when I didn't see my parents here as well. Where were they?
Dr. Ashlar was at my side immediately. "King Maxon, how do you feel?"
King Maxon. My brain was latched onto that one word. Being King was something I had always dreaded, and now it had finally happened. Had Father actually retired? Was he hurt? The real question was, why did I care?
I was staring at him wide-eyed. He looked concerned for a moment, and turned to the nurse behind him. I opened my mouth to try to tell him that I wasn't in pain, but no sound came out.
"Sam? Could you go get some more of that pain medication?" He asked, and she nodded and hurried off.
"King? What? What kind of sick joke–" My voice was hoarse, and I almost didn't recognize it.
"Sir, your parents passed away during the rebel attack. You've been declared King," Stavros explained.
Oh, oh. I felt like I was going to vomit. My stomach was doing backflips. Dr. Ashlar seemed to understand, as he handed me a small trash can. It hadn't been there before, as I had never thought about needing a trash can in my own bedroom.
And I did vomit. Whatever was in my stomach before was no longer there.
I could feel every set of eyes in the room on me, something else I had grown used to. Being Prince got me a lot of unwanted attention. Considering the situation, I didn't think I was being dramatic. I had lost my parents and become King all while I was unconscious. That was not what I had planned, or anything close to it.
"Better?" Dr. Ashlar asked with a sympathetic smile and handed me a bottle of water.
I nodded and drank some of it, washing down the disgusting taste of whatever had just exited through my mouth. The pain in my arm and chest spiked before slowly fading, and I guessed that I had accidentally moved too quickly.
Then I was ambushed with another thought. America, my love. Where was she? Was she okay? Did she– die? What had happened to her? I remembered that Aspen had rushed off with her– was he okay?
My brain was moving at a thousand miles per hour and I couldn't slow it down. I needed America more than anything in the entire universe. I was clingy; that I knew. I always had been, especially with my mother. America had not helped with that at all.
"America," I choked, my throat burning with the threatening tears. "Is she okay?"
"Lady America is fine, sir. She sustained minor injuries but nothing she won't recover from. Now, there were many deaths–" Dr. Ashlar stopped, taking in my expression.
"Deaths?" I repeated. "What? How– how many?"
"Lady Celeste didn't make it, sir." Gavril said.
I cursed. She had only died because she had been there. If I had gone ahead and eliminated her earlier, she could be here. She wouldn't be dead. She had a whole future ahead of her, and I had been the reason that she no longer did.
"Officer Leger?" I asked, knowing how upset Ames would be if Aspen died.
"He's alive, sir. He may need his leg amputated, though." Dr. Ashlar sighed.
Alive. That's all that mattered.
"The rest of the girls?"
"All safe, sir." Stavros added.
"Did– did my father die first? Or was it the other way around?" I was quieter this time, but still curious.
Officer Ryder, a guard that was posted outside in the hallway, answered. "Queen Amberly– well, saved him by sacrificing herself, sir. He died immediately after, and we're guessing that's when they– shot you."
I nodded. Of course she had sacrificed herself. She was queen, but she was also Amberly Station, the most selfless woman I had ever known. My Father didn't deserve her; or anyone like her. He was self-absorbed, but she still loved him. Somehow, through everything, she had loved him so much that she died for him.
After a moment of silence, Silvia asked the question that had been in the back of my brain this entire time.
"Sir, would you like for us to send for Lady America? I'm guessing you've chosen her?" Silvia asked. I guessed it was a little obvious; I had immediately asked about her condition.
I nodded and sat up. I had something to show her when she got here. I reached into the table beside my bed, and grabbed one of the documents. It was untouched as I had hoped. The file was honestly the only thing I had ever worked so hard on. Luckily, after I had discovered coffee, I was able to hide the countless amount of sleepless nights from everyone with the help of a little makeup.
America appeared in the doorway. I set the piece of paper back down. She was wearing a ripped dress, her makeup smudged and her eyes red and puffy. She curtsied, obviously aware of the situation.
"Your Majesty," She said shakily.
"Thank you, everyone. I'd like a moment alone with the lady." I said, and everyone bowed before leaving us alone.
She walked to me slowly, though I wanted her to run into my embrace and never let go. I sighed and motioned for her to sit on the bed.
"I'm so sorry about your parents," She whispered, sitting down on the bed.
"It doesn't seem real yet," I said. "I keep thinking that Father is in his study, and Mom's downstairs, and any minute one of them will come in here with something for me to do. Surprisingly, I want them to do just that."
"I know what you mean," She sighed.
I knew she did. She had lost her father as well, and there was no way it had been any easier than me losing mine. They had a great relationship, unlike ours.
"I know," I said. "She tried to save him. A guard told me a rebel had my father in his sights, but she ran behind him. She went down first, but they got Father immediately after."
I shook my head. "She was always selfless. To her very last breath."
"You shouldn't be so surprised. You're a lot like her."
I made a face. "I'll never be quite as good as her. I'm going to miss her so much."
She rubbed my hand. She wasn't her mother, but I knew she would miss her as well. They had been close, even if they had only spoken a few times.
"At least you're safe," I said, not looking into her eyes. "At least there's that."
There was a long moment of silence before I handed her the document that I had spent weeks perfecting.
"There's something I want to show you," I suddenly announced. "Mind you, it's a bit rough, but I think you'll still like it."
She stopped as she read it, and looked back at me. "You're dissolving the castes?"
I nodded. "That's the plan," I answered, smiling. "I don't want you to get too excited. This will take a long time to do, but I think it will work. You see," I said, turning the pages of the vast file and pointing to a paragraph. "I want to start from the bottom. I'm planning on eliminating the Eight label first. There's a lot of construction we need to do; and I feel like, with a little bit of work, the Eights could be absorbed into the Sevens. After that, it gets tricky. There's got to be a way to get rid of the stigmas that come along with the numbers, but that's my goal."
She looked dumbfounded. America held the document like it was the most precious thing she had ever seen or touched, which there's a possibility it was just that.
"I want you to know that this is all your doing. Since the day you called me into the hallway and told me about being hungry, I've been working on this. It was one of the reasons I got so upset after you did your presentation; I had a quieter way of reaching the exact same goal. But of all the things I wanted to do for my country, this would have never crossed my mind if I hadn't known you." I explained.
She was smiling now, but at the papers. She kept reading them, as if she thought they were going to say something different each time. I held her hand, and turned a little to the side. I reached underneath my pillow, where I had hidden the ring.
I pulled it out, and it was in a small black box as always. I opened it, showing the ring to her. "I've been sleeping with that darn thing under my pillow. Do you like it?"
She teared up and nodded. I cleared my throat, preparing myself for the next thing I had to do.
"Twice now I've tried to do this on a grand scale and failed spectacularly. As it is, I can't even get on one knee. I hope you won't mind if I just speak to you plainly." I said and she just blinked, but eventually gave me a solid nod.
"I love you." I said simply. "I should have told you a long time ago. Maybe we could have avoided so many stupid mistakes if I had. Then again, sometimes I think it was all those obstacles that made me love you so deeply."
I could see that she was on the brink of tears, the same way I was. I kept talking, trying to get to the point.
"What I said was true. My heart is yours to break. As you already know, I'd rather die than see you in pain. The moment I was hit, when I fell to the floor, sure my life was ending, all I could think about was you." I admitted.
I had to stop, and recollect myself. Tears were threatening to escape my eyes as well. "In those seconds, I was mourning everything I'd lost. How I'd never get to see you walk down an aisle toward me, how I'd never get to see your face in our children, how I'd never get to see streaks of silver in your hair. But, at the same time, I couldn't be bothered. If me dying meant you living," I did my one-shoulder shrug again- "how could that be anything but good?"
She lost control and let the tears out, crying profusely. I squeezed her hand, offering my love in a new way.
"America," I said sweetly, forcing her to wipe her eyes and face me. "I know you see a king here, but let me be clear; this isn't a command. This is a request, a plea. I beg you; make me the happiest man alive. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife."
She crawled into my arms, careful not to hurt me, but cozied up against my chest. She looked up at me, tears still running steadily down her face.
"Yes."
It was that one word that made my tears spill over as well, and I held her closely. She was everything to me. My morning, my night, my sun, my moon.
I slid the ring onto her finger and we both admired it, her sprawled out under my blanket next to me. She moved so her head was on my chest- well, the uninjured side of my chest.
"I love you," She whispered.
"As I love you," I grinned.
Somehow, we must have fallen asleep like that because before I knew it, I was being woken by ongoing conversations in my bedroom. I opened my eyes, only to see the room full again.
"Finally awake, I see." America laughed and planted a kiss on my lips.
I grinned. I could get used to waking up like this. She seemed to be thinking the same thing. As she stood I realized she had changed clothes and cleaned herself up, looking much more like the America I knew.
"I suppose Lady America is our next queen?" Gavril smiled.
I nodded, not able to wipe the stupid smile off of my face. I was engaged to America, the best person in my life. "She is,"
"Congratulations, Your Majesties." Stavros said, looking happier than he had yesterday.
"Thank you," I responded.
"Okay, well, I'm going to see my family. They may pass out, but that's normal, right?" She frowned.
"Honestly? I wouldn't know. But, I think your Mom may know–" I was cut off by her gasp.
"Maxon Schreave! You wouldn't have told her before I got a chance to, would you?" She looked slightly offended.
"Of course not," I said. "But I did ask your father for his permission."
"Mom definitely knows then. Dad never kept a secret from her." She sighed. "Well, have fun doing whatever it is you do. I love you."
She said it with such certainty that I wanted to get up and dance. She loved me and she wasn't scared to let the room know it. I had heard her say it before, but she had never sounded so sure.
"I love you, too." I said. She grinned and left, but not before giving me a sarcastic curtsy.
The past twenty four hours had been an absolute hell, but with America, it wasn't half as bad. And somehow, though I had lost my only family, I was gaining a brand new one.
"Sir, I need to change your bandages." Dr. Ashlar said.
I slipped my shirt off, careful not to hurt my arm. But in a way, the pain wouldn't have bothered me too badly. I was quite accustomed to the feeling.
He slowly peeled the bandage off, and I busied myself with watching the advisors in my room doing paperwork, getting it ready for me to sign. Everyone definitely looked more comfortable around me than they had around my father.
I winced as he wiped the wound with an antiseptic wipe. The lingering sting it left was a familiar feeling, but not one I liked. I was aware that Dr. Ashlar would never hurt me, as he had been my doctor since I was born. I think he had literally helped birth me. But, despite all that, I also associated pain with him and always had.
"Well, Your Majesty, it looks like you should be completely healed in less than three weeks. The cast will have to stay on longer, probably closer to a month or two. You're free to do anything that doesn't involve too much activity, like exercising or swimming. I'll have a nurse bring you more pain medication every four or five hours, which should help." He explained after he had re-bandaged the wound.
We spent an hour on paperwork, them explaining each paper to me before I was given the go-ahead to sign them. It wasn't nearly as boring as I had expected, but it wasn't fun either.
At the door, there was a knock. It was America. "Maxon? Is this a good time?"
"Of course," I nodded, and the room cleared.
"My family wants to meet you. Are you able to.. walk?" She asked.
I nodded. "Just let me change and I'll be down. What room?"
"Uh- The women's room. You have permission to enter, if you're wondering." She grinned and closed the door behind her.
I managed to change my pants, choosing jeans instead of suit pants. I wasn't quite ready to wear a suit, as my chest was still hurting me and a tight suit wouldn't help. I left my shirt as it was, a loose navy blue t-shirt. I pulled my sling on, letting my arm lay in it like a hammock and headed downstairs.
Maids and guards working the hallways stopped to bow or curtsy, something I had got used to much earlier in life. I winced as I moved my arm too quickly, trying to jog down the stairs. Stupid idea, I thought.
As expected, the Singer-Orders family was waiting for me in the women's room. The door was opened for me by a guard, who gave me a small smile. Maybe my employees did like me afterall.
"Took you long enough," America smirked.
"The cast slowed me down," I explained, and she kissed my cheek.
"Your Majesty," Kenna curtsied, and I raised an eyebrow as the rest of the family followed her lead.
"I swear," America frowned. "I told them not to, but they insisted."
"Most people do." I sighed. "But call me Maxon, and none of that, please."
They nodded, slowly. One person was missing; Kota. He was a jerk anyway. I wasn't interested in meeting him.
"So," James Orders stood, offering me his hand. I shook it, glad he was willing to touch me. "You won America over, I see. How'd that happen?"
I shrugged with one shoulder, not risking the dreaded pain that came with moving my other one. "I have no clue, actually."
"Well, anyone good enough for America is good enough for us." Magda decided.
"See? I knew they'd like you." America grinned. Her happiness was contagious, especially to me, who loved her more than the whole world combined.
"You didn't think we'd like you?" May frowned.
"A lot of people pretend," I explained. "They don't want to seem rude, especially to a member of the royal family– so, they lie. And honestly, I was worried that would happen again. But America has always been extraordinarily honest– and I didn't know– basically, I was nervous to meet you."
Kenna grinned. "You were nervous to meet us?"
I bit my lip. "I've never had a family that I was close to– and I would like one, and I've been known to screw things up."
James stated the obvious. "You love her."
"More than life itself." I added. America buried her face in my not-damaged-shoulder, and I think she was actually blushing.
"Don't hurt her." Gerad said, his arms crossed.
I nodded. "I would never."
"Also, we're sorry about your parents, Maxon." Magda said sadly.
I looked down at my feet. I hadn't actually faced the fact that they were gone. I had lived through the very thing that had killed them both. I wanted a hug from my Mom more than anything right now.
And the last thing I had told them was not 'I love you' but 'I'm marrying Kriss', which was a lie. I didn't marry Kriss. I was marrying America; the one person who loved me as I was.
"Hey," America whispered. "Are you okay?"
I nodded, trying not to let the burning in my throat get to me. How was I going to live with the fact that I should have died too?
"I'm sorry if I upset you," Magda apologized and I shook my head.
"It's– it's just a lot to take in," I said.
They seemed to understand. Kenna quickly switched the subject, and I wanted to thank her for it.
"Let's see the ring!" She grinned.
America held her hand out, allowing everyone to look. Kenna, May, and Magda seemed to like it the most. Gerad looked slightly uninterested and James gave me a small smile.
"It's beautiful, Ames!" Kenna laughed.
"I guess that's what I get for marrying a king," America grinned.
"Oh, Ames. You're going to be The Queen of Illéa!" Magda cried, running a finger over the ring.
"And your fiancé is The King of Illéa!" May giggled.
"Yeah, how did I get this lucky?" America asked.
I grinned. The real question was; how did I get this lucky? Before I had a chance to argue with her, the door opened and Stavros was revealed as he bowed.
"Your Majesty," He nodded. "Could I have a word?"
"Absolutely. I'll be right back, Ames." I kissed her on the forehead and followed Stavros out the door.
"Sir, the country is demanding answers." He whispered.
"To what?" I asked.
"They want to know what happened, sir."
I shook my head. "Why do I have to be the one to tell them?"
"You are the King, sir." Stavros reminded me.
"And I also lost them too. I- I can't just- talk about it, Stavros! It's not that simple-" I choked, my throat closing up.
"I know, sir, but you have a certain responsibility now. I'm sure we can buy you a day or two, but the country will rebel." He looked sympathetic.
I shook my head. "I- don't know if I can do it. Would America be able to be by my side?"
He nodded. "I'm sure we could arrange for that, if you'd like."
"Thank you. Now- I'm aware that the situation with New Asia isn't the best right now," I said slowly. "And since that's now my problem, I was hoping you could elaborate."
"Of course." He nodded. "It would be easier to explain with more evidence, so could we plan a meeting? Tomorrow in your office?"
"Absolutely. Is ten alright with you?" I asked.
He nodded, as I expected. With a bow, he left me alone in the hallway again. I took a deep breath and re-entered the women's room, glad I already had permission to enter. America appeared to be playing rock paper scissors with Gerad, and apparently he was winning.
"Not fair!" She protested, throwing her hands up in defeat. I smirked. She could be very competitive at times.
I sat down next to James on one of the couches, taking the room in. I had been in here a few times; mainly as a young child. He nudged me, getting my attention.
"You know," He said, quietly. "I always thought you'd be different. Stuffier, stricter, ruder. But you are actually very nice to be around. And incredibly respectful. America needs that. After everything with her Dad and Kota- she's been more uptight. This is the first time I've seen her truly happy."
"Thank you. Everyone is always surprised when they meet me. It's like I'm made out to be an exact replica of my Father." I said, fidgeting with the sling I was wearing. "And America- wow. She's been through more than anyone deserves, and I'm scared I'm bringing her into something she'll regret. This job, specifically, tore my parents apart. They rarely spoke to each other and when they did, it resulted in fights. I don't want that. She deserves to be happy."
He nodded. "I get that, completely. That's how I was with Ken- I mean, without the job thing. My parents were never close, and until now, we didn't have much money. And Astra, our daughter, was definitely a stressor. But if what I've seen is true, then there isn't much that can tear you apart. You'll fight, believe me. But you'll make up. You're good for her, Maxon."
He was a really nice guy, I realized. I could definitely use a brother-in-law like him. And in a few months, that would be exactly what we would be. Brothers; not biologically, of course, but it was close enough.
"Astra? That's a lovely name." I pointed out. "How old is she?"
He grinned. "She's almost a year a half. It's like she's getting bigger everyday. She's got the Singer family red hair; no surprise there."
"Of course. There really is no surprise there. I'd like to meet her, though. Did you bring her with you?" I asked.
"Yeah, we did. She's taking a nap, though. Are you going to be at dinner? We're going to try to bring her." He tilted his head slightly.
"I was going to skip it, but now I think I'll go. Maybe I won't make too big of a fool out of myself. Unfortunately, I'm not too good at anything with one arm." I sighed.
"Maxon, I'm really sorry about that. No one deserves to lose their parents." He frowned. "And you didn't just lose your parents, you lost your only family."
"Thanks," I smiled sadly. "It hasn't really sunk in. I keep expecting one of them to rush in and tell me about something else I need to do. And being king this early was not on my to-do list. And one of the girls, Celeste Newsome, died. Everything went from being perfect, to an absolute hell in a matter of a few hours."
"Were you close?" He asked. "You and Celeste?"
"Not really," I admitted. "She was using me; which is something America told me. I was a bit too naive to realize it. They all were- except Ames. They never turned anything down, they were always too eager to touch me. I was only ever a prince to them, never Maxon."
"Would you be a five for her?" James asked.
"Absolutely. I doubt you knew, but I like photography. We'd both have jobs we'd like. And we could be normal. No press, no guards, no advisors. Just us." I frowned, mourning the life I'd never have.
"Does the whole royal thing get old?" He asked.
I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I've never known anything other than it, so I'm probably not the right person to ask, but I think so."
After another couple of hours, I'd had short conversations with each member of her family, and no one seemed to hate me yet. On the walk back to my room, America brought up the fact that she was now in charge of planning not only my parents' funeral, but our wedding.
"I can help with the wedding," I decided. "I may not be able to hold it together for the funeral planning."
"And I get that." She nodded, leading me in and shutting the bedroom door behind us. "Can we watch some TV?"
I nodded and picked the remote up off of my bed. There was a TV at the end of my bed, hung on the wall opposite of my bed. I switched it on and the first channel to appear was a show called 'The Tonight Show'. We watched for a moment before realizing that I was the topic of the episode.
"Do you think King Maxon will be giving us any information on his pick of the girls yet?" A man, probably in his late 50's, said.
"Well," A much younger woman said. "I doubt it. He's probably too busy, doing who knows what."
America snorted and muttered under her breath, "You try getting shot and almost dying once or twice."
She changed the channel to the Report, which Gavril seemed to have been hosting at the moment. I had a feeling it was just a daily update, not something we were required to attend. Stavros was usually the one giving the news, just as he was now.
"I know a lot of you have been anxious to hear King Maxon personally explain what happened in the rebel attack that took the lives of both Queen Amberly and King Clarkson." He said. "He will not only be explaining the attack, but announcing his future wife as well. I do not know for sure when he will be doing this, but it will be in less than a week."
There was a brief pause.
"As you may know, His Majesty was severely injured in the attack, leaving him with a broken arm, hand, and a dislocated shoulder. The King also suffered from extreme blood loss and a gunshot wound. He is in fact making a faster recovery than we expected, so I ask you not to worry." He said, and America held my hand. "He is adapting to his role as King effortlessly and I believe you will all be pleased with the first project he is working on. Goodnight, Illéa."
The cameras turned back to Gavril, who was sitting with his legs crossed. His expression was grave.
"Before I move on, I'd like to offer my condolences to His Majesty. The loss of one's parents is hard; especially on someone so young."
And I turned the TV off. I didn't want to think about the whole ordeal. Avoiding it was much more appealing.
"Are you okay?" America asked, rubbing my shoulder.
"It's starting to feel so real, Ames." I whispered. "I miss them."
She took my hand. "I know it does. You don't have to hide anything from me, I won't judge."
"I know," I said, finally letting the tears fall down my cheeks. "I just want her back- Mom. I've always had her around to help me. Once, when I was seven, I had this dog- his name was Charlie. He had just ruined weeks worth of pictures I had taken and I was upset, crying and yelling. She was the only person who knew how to calm me down. I- I miss that."
"Charlie," She grinned. "That's a cute name."
"Does it ever stop hurting?" I mumbled. She shook her head.
"No, it doesn't. The pain fades, but never heals. A lot like a scar." She explained, and I nodded.
I told her about the time when I had accidentally interrupted my Father's meeting with Stavros to tell him that I, a nine year old, was going to write a book. It never happened of course, but he had been furious. And I had been scared; making me run to my mother, who immediately comforted me.
And I told her about the time when I was fifteen and tried to sneak out of the Palace and succeeded. Mom had actually helped me; distracting the guards long enough so I could go do something fun for once. She hadn't even gotten on to me for it afterwards, instead asking me where I had gone.
We fell asleep like that, talking and crying, in each other's arms. She truly was the best thing to ever come into my life.