I do not own The Selection.

HAPPY PRIDE MY LOVELIES

I LOVE ALL OF YOU SO SO MUCH AND I'LL GLADLY BE YOUR MOM IF YOU NEED ONE! i am apart of said community, but i don't really have a label at the moment :)) whether you're out or not, know that you can still celebrate! I LOVE YOU ALL

okay so i got a good question from one of you, and it was like if i'll have the sequel to this posted when i finish this story and stuff like that. the answer is yes. i plan to have it posted the moment i post the last chapter to this one so that you guys can go ahead and find it! now, i still have stuff to do with this one, but yes, i will let you guys know when i post that :)

guysssss i've been bingeing the netflix show reign and AH. FRANCIS. he's adorable :( and deserved so much better. also working my way through the shadow and bone books (i'm on book 3 now!)

i hope you all love this chapter, and as usual, please leave suggestions and ideas and comments and everything like that! i seriously do use them or try to use them!

One Week Later - February

I shrugged on my robe, heading into the bathroom to wash my face. God forbid the King had any kind of acne.

Minutes later, I heard the bedroom door creak open, and could hear America and someone else having a quiet conversation. I finished washing my face and shrugged on a black bathrobe, mainly to cover my back but to cover my bare chest as well. It helped that I was also wearing gray pajama pants.

"Maxon!" America called. "Hurry up!"

"Alright, I'm coming!"

I exited the bathroom, running a hand through my hair. Standing in front of me were Estelle and America.

Estelle was dressed in mismatched clothes. Her shirt was a dark purple and had the name of some rock band on it, and she wore a pair of blue shorts. She looked.. nervous.

She dropped into a bow, "Your Majesty."

"Estelle, there's no need for that. Is everything alright?"

America stepped in. "Estelle told me she wanted to talk to us about.. her stay here and what place she'll hold."

I frowned, but we all sat down on the big bed. I was most definitely curious about what Estelle was thinking, but she was obviously a little nervous. It was a few moments before she actually spoke.

"Why am I here?" she asked, her voice quiet. "Is it something political? Please."

"No, it's not political. We—America and I—are truly interested in adopting, Estelle." I said, shaking my head. "Are you not enjoying it here?"

"No, I love it. I love it too much. I have my own room, my own bathroom, my own closet, my own maids. It's so amazing, but I'm scared of losing it. I'm scared I'll get too attached.."

"And then we'll send you away."

She looked up at me, nodding. Her eyes were brimmed with tears. I wanted so desperately to reach out, hold her. Comfort her. But I doubted that was what she needed right now. She was scared.

"We won't send you away, Estelle," America said, taking her hand. "We love having you here."

"Really?"

"Really," I said, nodding.

"But—But I—I'm just.. me. A peasant. I'm nothing. I wasn't born into royalty. The public will hate me, and I'll ruin your reputation."

"You're smart," I said. "Yes, this could ruin our reputation. They could hate you. It's always a risk."

She fiddled with her thumbs.

There was something she wasn't telling us, and I wasn't sure she would tell us. I wanted Estelle to feel she could trust us but I also knew that earning any trust at all would take time. But we had that time to spend with her, and we'd use that time to make her feel safe.

"Estelle, why don't you go back to your room and we talk again in the morning?" America suggested.

Tears leaked from her eyes, and I was immediately at her side, an arm around her.

"I can't," she said. "I can't sleep, I—I'm—It's.."

"Hey," I said. "No need to explain. You can stay in here with us tonight, and if that doesn't help, then we'll find something that does, alright?"

"Oh, uhm, okay."

America patted the bed beside her. "C'mere."

Estelle crawled under the covers next to her, and I went to quickly put on a shirt. I slipped into bed next to the two, Estelle being in the middle. I stayed a good distance away from her, mainly to ensure she was comfortable.

"Goodnight," I said, grinning.

"Night," Estelle said back. "And thanks for this."

"Anytime."

It was hardly five minutes before I was drifting into the familiar world of sleep.

When I woke up, it was to the feeling of someone's arms around me. It was Estelle. She had her arms around me, her head buried in my chest. There was something strangely domestic about it.

America was already up, standing at the end of the bed, snapping pictures with a camera of mine. She was beaming.

"She fell asleep as soon as you did," America said. "And she hasn't gotten up once."

"What time is it?" I asked, yawning.

"Almost ten. Your next meeting is at one, so don't fret."

"Mhm," Estelle sighed, cuddling closer to me. I ran a gentle hand through her black curls, even going so far as to kiss her forehead.

This was what I really wanted.

I wanted to be Estelle's father, even if not biologically.

"She loves you," America whispered, just before snapping another picture.

After a few moments, Estelle sighed again but this time, she flung herself backwards, stammering and tripping over her words. I smiled politely.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have—That was so impolite of me—"

"Estelle," I laughed. "It's fine! You are allowed to touch me. I'm just glad you got some sleep, even if you're too deeply embarrassed to even look at me now."

She slowly looked back over at me. "Thanks."

I sat at my desk, absentmindedly reading my childhood journal.

I'd found another quite interesting entry in my hours of bored reading. None of my many advisors had brought any urgent issues to me yet, though I kept finding myself flipping back through papers, looking for something that I had perhaps forgotten to sign. But of course, I hadn't forgotten anything.

I looked back down at the journal.

It's Maxon again.

I need to come up with a different greeting.

Well, it's been two weeks since I've been able to write. Father's been pressuring me and I've had German and history and english and science lessons everyday.

I don't want to talk about that.

Daphne came over again. We played with her dolls and she taught me to braid hair. Maybe I can braid my daughter's hair one day.

I've had a few opportunities to ride Captain. Did you know it's my eleventh birthday tomorrow? I asked for a new bridle and saddle for Captain. He needs it. I ride him so much that they're wearing out.

There's gonna be an entire ball for me. I don't want one but I can't escape it. Oh well.

Well, this wasn't much of an update.

I've got another lesson with Silvia.

Yours Truly,

Maxon Schreave

The 22nd of August, 7:58 PM

Written in the Prince's bedroom

A part of me wanted to know more of my thoughts when I was ten. This journal was—

"Your Majesty," Stavros said, bursting through the doors.

I shoved the journal into my desk and stood. He seemed a little more than worried, which wasn't like Stavros. He hardly ever let worry soak through his composed, professional self.

He set down several large photos on my desk.

One was of the back of a man's body, and this man was trying to get into a jail cell—Mia's jail cell. The other was of this mystery man's face, and upon seeing who it was, I cursed.

It was Kota.

Once again, Kota was causing trouble, despite the fact that I had warned both of them that any stunts pulled would be a very bad idea. And yet, they'd ignored my warnings. Why? Did they just assume from my kind reputation that I wouldn't hurt them or give harsh punishments?

"They tried to break out," I muttered. "Of course."

"The guards managed to catch them and jail them once again, sir, but there was a fatality."

"A fatality? How?"

He gave a grim smile. "Poison, sir. We aren't sure of how Mr. Singer managed to do it, but he did. From the autopsy, it appears to have been.. consumed by food."

"Just for safe measures, warn the staff. Everyone. Have the kitchen staff check the food."

He nodded. "And as for their punishment?"

"Execution is too harsh," I decided. "And we still have information to get out of them. Until I'm able to consult America, have them chained."

He nodded, bowed, and walked away.

I sat down, rubbing my face.

Of course these idiots would try their luck at an escape. I couldn't tortue them. Not without America's approval or the risk of damaging my own morals. We could starve them for a day or so. Make them regret it. Add time to their sentence, keep them chained down. There were most definitely efforts we could make to prevent this kind of thing from happening again.

But they had also killed a guard. That was not a punishment I was willing to let go easily. This guard probably had a family. A wife. Children, possibly.

"Holy moly,"

Estelle was holding a textbook to her chest, gaping and staring at the extravagant room before her. Her eyes finally landed on me, and she froze.

"Before you curtsy, remember there's no need for it," I laughed. "It's nice, isn't it?"

"I've never seen such a room,"

"Well, if you'd like to see some, there are plenty more. Aren't you supposed to be with Silvia? For a history lesson?"

"Oh, she dismissed me," Estelle said. "Could you please show me?"

"Of course. I need a break anyway."

She sat her textbook down on my desk, and I secured the photos in a locked drawer. We first walked down the hallway to the library—one place she hadn't been yet. A week wasn't nearly enough time to explore every room of the palace.

"This is amazing!" she squealed, running right towards a shelf of books.

The library was amazing.

Reaching from the ceiling to the floor were wide, dark brown bookshelves that had been perfectly crafted and engraved with designs of flowers and birds and trees. Overall, the room was dark, yet lit with the cozy and warming rays of fake but still realistic candles, lanterns, and of course, elaborate chandeliers.

Aisles of books were labeled by genre, directing you towards your next read. The major categories were fiction and non-fiction, and then it went on from there.

"Can I read them? Any of them?"

"All of them if you wish to. Just make sure you bring them back."

"Thank you so much," she whispered. "This is the best week of my life."

"Estelle?" America asked, knocking on her bedroom door.

"I can't do it!" she sobbed. "I can't.."

"Sweetheart, can we come inside?"

The door opened to reveal Estelle, eyes leaking tears and both hair and clothes a mess. We entered slowly, taking in the room. It was just as it had been when we'd given it to her.

"Are you alright?" I asked, sitting on her bed. "You know, they won't hurt you."

She slumped against the wall, sinking to the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees. Earlier, when we'd suggested the idea of her meeting our family, she'd had a panic attack. It wasn't severe enough to consult a doctor, but it had most definitely worried us.

"I've been through this before," she whispered.

Neither of us spoke. What did she mean by that?

"I've been considered for adoption twice," she explained. "Both times, I got to meet their family. I was so.. excited. But they took one look at me and turned me away."

"What? Why?" America asked, sitting down beside her.

"I never look like the adults who want me. I'm a different color. And I'm a geek, a nerd, a weirdo. They always get rid of me."

"Estelle.. we promise that no one in our family cares about race," I said. "They're dying to meet you. And trust me, we're all weird. Did you know that I'm obsessed with cameras?"

She looked up, the smallest glint of hope in her eyes. I moved to sit beside her, meaning she was between America and I, and put an arm around her shoulders.

"He's right," America said. "Maxon loves photography. My little brother loves sports. Our niece thinks she's British. My sister loves fashion, my Mom loves cooking. We all have our quirks, Stelle."

She sniffled and laughed.

Perhaps our little talk had gotten us somewhere.

"Feeling better?" I asked.

She leaned into my touch. "Yeah. You guys are good at this."

"Well, it's our first attempt," America said. "Why don't we get you all groomed and ready, and then you conquer these weirdos?"

"I'll go rally the troops," I said, standing.

"Okay." she said, standing too. "I'm gonna conquer these people."

"Damn right you are."

America slapped me playfully. "Maxon! No profanity in front of the children."

I winked at Estelle before heading out the door.

I waited in the hallway for about thirty minutes, and then the two exited the bedroom. Estelle looked beautiful.

Her hair was in its usual state—a curly bob. She wore a yellow dress, one that made her truly look like a princess. But, a lot like America, she wore black high-topped converse underneath. Oddly enough, she reminded me of America in many ways.

"You look wonderful, Estelle," I grinned.

"Can I get this over with?" she asked. "But I want to keep the dress."

"Of course. It's all yours," America said.

As soon as we walked into the room, Astra's arms were around Estelle, giving her the biggest hug I'd ever seen. And when the little girl pulled away, she began rambling.

"You're so so so pretty," she said. "I gonna call you Stella, and we gonna be best best friends."

"Astra," Kenna hissed, pulling the girl away.

Estelle was much more relaxed now, and she was beaming. I needed to thank Astra, which is not something I'd ever really thought I'd say. She'd welcomed Estelle into the family almost instantly.

"Oh, she's fine," Estelle said. "What's her name?"

James grinned. "That's Astra. She's a little.. blunt. I'm James, this is Maddox," he gestured towards the baby in his arms. "And this is Kenna."

"And I'm May! This is Peyton." May said, coming forward. "Can I hug you?"

Estelle nodded, and May hugged her.

"I'm Gerad," Gerad said.

And then Magda came forward. "I'm Magda, but you can call me Gramma. Everyone seems to. Oh, sweetheart, you are gorgeous."

She put her arms out in a motion to hug her and Estelle only did it back.

This was going very well.

We all sat down, and Estelle was answering some questions about herself. It was merely an effort to get to know her. I had a feeling that there would be a lot of that, seeing as America and I had serious intentions to adopt her.

"Do you like sports?" Gerad asked.

"I like playing them," she said. "I can play football and soccer, and I like horses a lot. But I've never had one of my own. And learning to fence would be cool."

America whispered in my ear, "We've got to get her one."

I nodded.

It looked like Gerad would have a new person to challenge to soccer games. Perhaps Estelle really would do well with everyone.

"You'd like to fence, you say?" May said, looking at me. Everyone was.

"What?" I asked.

"Isn't fencing some kind of tradition for princes?" James asked.

"In medieval times, perhaps." I said. "I actually do know how to fence. Just a warning, I suck at it."

"He can also ride horses!" Kenna said. "The palace has huge stables."

Estelle grinned. "Really?"

We went on to how old she was, what she liked to do other than sports, which was to read and to watch TV. Gerad eventually brought up video games, which she had never heard of, and took her off to show her. Astra went with them.

"She's amazing," Magda said, smiling.

Kenna nodded. "Her and Gerad and Astra get along like they've always known each other."

"You should see her with the twins," America said. "They act like real siblings. She taught them how to make these little flower crowns and now they both wear them religiously."

"Are you going to adopt her?" May asked.

I nodded. "We have the legal procedures and paperwork figured out and ready, but we still have to announce it. And we want it to be her decision too. Her life will never be the same if we do this."

"What's the worst thing that could happen? If you announce it?" James asked.

"The worst would be that there's an uproar and they try to.. well, dethrone us or assassinate us for bringing someone of unroyal blood into the family. It's unlikely, but it's happened in other countries." America said. "The best would be that there's only hesitance, and after they listen to us, they'll be okay with it."

"Who would they give the throne to?" Peyton frowned.

"Ah, probably August. He has Gregory's last name, so technically, he would be next in line if I died. Or they'd disassemble the entire bloodline and start over." I said.

"Estelle won't ever be queen, right?" May asked. "So why would they care?"

"That's the thing," I said. "Stavros informed me that if she joins the family and takes our last name and a title, then technically, she would be in line. Last in line, but in line nonetheless. That means that if all of us die, then it goes to her."

"Oh. So she does have a chance at being queen."

"Only if the world goes to hell and we all drop dead, which isn't likely, but I wouldn't doubt the possibility that it could happen."

There were most definitely risks in doing this.

But I was almost sure that it would be worth having Estelle as our daughter. After the acceptance of Avery as queen, why wouldn't there be some acceptance with Estelle?

"And why are the staff clearing out all of the food?" Kenna asked. "They told me it was on your orders, Maxon."

"Ah," I said. "Well, Kota killed a guard."

"What?"

"And from the autopsy, I was told that it was poison that was consumed through food. I don't know if it was just his food, but I suppose it's better to be safe than have us all drop dead too."

"So he escaped?" America asked.

"But was jailed again, yes."

"Why did he have to kill a guard?" May asked. "And who?"

"I don't know," I said. "I was given half an answer and a couple photos of him trying to break the other rebel out too."

They looked as disappointed as I felt.

Sup.

That's supposed to be slang for 'what's up' according to one of my English cousins. He says it's what the common Illéan folk use. Not sure how he knows.

I'm eleven now!

I spent my birthday in London. We visited their royal palace. I hate to say it but it's nothing to our palace. Their food is good but not as good as ours.

I'm glad to be home.

Daphne and her parents were there too. There were a lot of children there. None of them were there for me. They were there for the money they were paid to come and the cake.

Father has been ill for the past few days with a harsh cold. The doctors assure us he's fine and I believe them. The grouchy man wouldn't leave without his only son trained to start wars. That's what he wants me to do. Continue the war with New Asia. It's horrible and so many people have died.

I got the things for Captain I needed. I want to go riding but I haven't gotten another chance recently.

I've been busy with my lessons again, but I can't pay attention.

Freedom would be nice.

Speaking of lessons, I have to finish learning about the presidents of the United States of America. There were dozens of them. I'm on number 32 now.

See ya.

P.S. that's also slang. I think.

Yours Truly,

Maxon Schreave

The 9th of September, 7:42 PM

Written in a first floor parlor

"You've taken a liking to that thing, haven't you?"

America closed the bedroom door behind her, coming to sit beside me on the bed. Just like she always did, she kicked off her shoes and laid her head on my chest.

"I have," I said. "There's something amazing about being able to read my thoughts from a dozen years ago."

"Well, I'm glad I could help entertain you,"

She grinned, tilting her head so our lips met. I flipped us over, hovering above her. Her hands went to my neck as I kissed her, keeping us close. She smiled and broke away, and held me there, looking into my eyes. Hers were that beautiful shade of an ocean like blue that I could never get enough of. And mine? They looked like poop.

"I love your smile," she confessed, shyly tracing my lips with her finger. "I don't see it enough."

"Oh, really?"

Making her giggle, I kissed her nose and her cheek and her eyelid and her forehead. She giggled again and I found myself just admiring her. I was convinced she was an angel.

"You're such a goofball," she said, rolling her eyes.

I kissed her softly, grinning as I pressed my forehead to hers. "I guess it comes with being the luckiest man on the planet, my love."

a sweet maxerica moment there for you guys! writing them together makes me feel so single LOL

find someone who treats you like maxon treats america :) (or not. i understand if you'd rather live alone and surrounded by animals or just friends because sometimes same.)

thank you for reading and putting up with my ridiculous and annoying ramblings! have a wonderful day

(also yes, for anyone that might've seen this posted already, this is a repost. i found a typo that made me mad GRRR)