"I wouldn't know." Elise answered, climbing up the stairs with perfect ease, even in her heels, already like a queen. "I've never lived in New Asia myself to know much about the traditions over there. We follow a few, celebrate even less. My father's an American and we love it here. Mom even complaints that we never got to see her lifestyle and country."
"I can understand." I murmur, walking in the hallway that'll lead us to her rooms. After spending the evening date with her in the backyard, walking and talking over many things, it was finally over. "Even my mother thinks that. She grew as a Four while I'm a prince. There are many things she thinks I missed growing up."
"Yeah. Tell me about it."
Standing by her door, slightly leaning against it, I look down at her. She wasn't much tall but neither short. With black hair and Asian features, Elise was a beauty to kill for. It was her behaviour that irritated and infuriated me. She always agreed with everything I said, never retorting or pushing me. Almost spineless.
If it wasn't for father's decision of wanting her here for our situation with the war with New Asia, I wouldn't have ever Selected her, but that wasn't the case now. And she was sweet. Kind. Queenly.
Almost perfect. Just not for me.
Knowing my part well, I give her a smile. "But I have to thankful for your father's wish to stay here. How else I would've meet you?"
She blushed, ducking her eyes, trying to feel loved and adored.
There was no spark between us. Everything was forced. For me, it was a duty. I had no idea why she wanted to be here, but it was clear she didn't love me. Respected me, maybe, but not loved.
Still, playing my part well, I give her a kiss on her cheek.
With her, there were rarely any kisses.
She gave me a small smile, nothing flirtatious like Celeste or welcoming like Marlee or Natalie. She wasn't like them. She was her own. Even if without a proper spine to stand proud. "Thank you for spending time with me."
"The pleasure is all mine, my dear." I smiled again and walked away.
I wanted to go to the West wing to America's room, but there was too much work, and she needs time.
Sighing , I went back to my room, looking at all the documents waiting up for me on my desk, and busied myself in them.
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.
Celeste was already waiting for me when I knocked on her room door. Enveloping myself in work was an easy distraction, the only side effect being I got too lost in it to notice I was late for my evening movie date with Celeste. Her maid opened the door wide, letting me in. She may be a model and a famous personality, even before being Selected, but she was clearly disorganized when it came to her magazines and photos.
There were a few magazines lying idly on her couch, a book on her bed. A vase full of bright flowers was placed on her side table, the many mirrors of her room winking at me as I stepped further in.
We were supposed to go for her shooting lessons, as she was trying to learn that, but earlier she sent me a letter saying it's too hot and sunny outside to go, suggesting we go for a movie instead.
"I'm sorry I'm making you wait." She apologized, not sounding at all sorry as she applied a few make-up items over her eyelids. "I fell asleep."
Though that doesn't explains the many of her pictures framed on her wall. In almost all of them she was displaying her confidence and her elegance along with her voluptuous body in shorts and sexy little things and dresses. A Lady in her might where as a model through and through.
If she thought I was innocent or didn't take me to be noticing what she was trying to do, I played my innocence well enough.
An amazing actor as well, who knew how to make her own way.
Yet, there was something about her photos that made me look at them.
Celeste Newsome may be amazing actor and an effortless Lady, but she was never transparent. She was like a white screen—one could only guess what would be happening behind it. But not her eyes. They were clear. Readable. At least I could. In each frame that she stood, she was herself. Never compromising her comfort for anything. That was utterly transparent and visible in each and every click.
She caught me looking at one of her pictures—a magazine cut-out actually, an advertisement of a lingerie brand, a secretly smiling Celeste lying down in a sexy posture on a loveseat.
She smirked knowingly, bending down to get something from her bed, that too in such a way that I had to look away and swallow up the view. The almost thin green cloth she called a gown didn't help—almost see through, cut low at her neck that gave a glimpse to her curves, straps and strings that worked as the only thing holding it up, her back almost bare for my eyes, especially as she wind up her hair in a messy bun, a few strands lazily dancing over her collarbones—especially as she breezed through her room, trying to find something only she knew about.
She knew the king was in her favour. The heir was mastered by the king. So her target was the man in me. Entice the prince...and the crown is yours.
A fish who had took the worm as a bait, had the hook stuck up in his mouth, yet trying his best to get away from his doom as best as possible.
Not a damsel in distress, but a damsel ready to be a disaster for the prince. Anything for the crown.
We went in the basement to watch a movie, which was chosen by her. A French suspense-thriller movie. She knew I was good in French, as well as her. The movie was about a phone call received by the protagonist, who tried his best to save the victim, his nephew, from the unknown threat, with the help of a agent disguised as the nanny. A movie full of suspense and action and mystery, along with steamy scenes which Celeste took a major interest in—running her fingers over my arm, kissing me in a spur moment, dragging my hands to run over her bare arms and shoulders and moaning in encouragement in my ear.
It was just the thought of America and my duty and my father that helped me distance herself form her.
She was enticing on a daily basis. When determined, she was deadly, trying every tactic to make me kiss her with heat and passion.
It didn't go out of my notice that she wasn't happy with that either. She wasn't trying to embrace me but the crown. I was just the medium that'll lead her to it.
Those two hours were the most difficult.
I breathed in relief when the movie was over. "I'd like to stay," a lie, "but I have a few meetings." I stood up, not giving her any other excuse to stay and took her hand in mine, not forgetting my manners even when every part of me was screaming that it wasn't right.
Even after I escorted her to her room, the remnants of my time with her lingered.
It was a difficult night.
Specifically after the dinner during which America tried to meet my eyes but I couldn't. I felt like I cheated on her.
But wasn't I doing that already?
.
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.
A new morning. But the same routine.
Did I mention the girls had completely taken over my life?
My whole schedule revolved around them. My meetings, my work... everything had to be managed so that I also get to spend time with them. Not just for show, but also to know them.
Dad was stern about this when it comes to my duties as a prince. He always said "You can't expect to be a good king if you can't schedule your day accordingly." But I guess everything and everybody has an exemption. Like Selection is for me.
I went to the first floor after breakfast for my date with Marlee.
Even when I am sure who I want to be with, the Selection had gone for so much long. Just because I couldn't just tell that I've chosen my one, because she isn't sure of me. So I have to keep my options open.
Marlee: People's favourite. Bubbly, cheerful and effervescent. Full of laughter and optimism.
Not having any more clue as to what to do and where to take them for dates, I'd left to the Elites to select an activity. I sent them a letter informing the escapade I could get and they'd sent me another letter, suggesting me time and activities.
Bless Marlee, she was simple and always chose movies or small games to play, something she thought was fun. Unlike Celeste, who always wanted to go to extravagant places in the palace; or Kriss, who liked libraries and histories or places related to that. Elise always preferred to leave the choice on me, saying she loved all the places in the palace go choose one, or Natalie, who always liked to go out, never staying in one place.
"Hello, Marlee."
"Oh, Maxon. Thank God you came on time. You are the only one who can answer it correctly!" She exclaimed, throwing a friendly glare at a soldier standing by her side. I recognized him as the one who escorted her to the safe place a week ago during a rebel attack. Officer Woodwork.
He gave me a bow when I looked at him. "Your Majesty. Lady Marlee thinks movies are the bended version of reality. But I strongly disagree. They are nothing but fairytales, shown just for entertainment, and way far from reality."
"Of course I'm right." Marlee announced before I could say anything. Looking at me with pleading eyes to help her point, she pouted. "What do you think, Maxon?"
Being a prince has it's benefits. You are grown up with diplomatic skills as an arsenal. "I think movies are a blending of both. When dreams blend with reality and nightmares, where tales are recreated according to the situations. As per their delight. Not just one thing." I shrugged, hoping it was enough. "But why, may I ask, officer, are you debating with Lady Marlee on movies when it's a lost cause. She is a savage when it comes to them."
She chuckled, slapping my arm in a friendly way.
We both knew that we aren't compatible, we have no spark between us. This had helped solving matters for us. She no longer fighting for her position or my affection. Like America's first desire, she is just here for entertainment and enjoying the luxuries of the palace and being an Elite. Nothing more. We're just friends. And respect each other just well.
"Always a prince! But thanks anyway." She turned to the officer. "And thank you, officer, for escorting me and waiting by my side until he came."
"Anytime, my Lady." He bowed again and left us, his broad shoulders and built silhouette melting away as he went in the hallway.
"What was that about?" I wondered aloud, taking her arm and descending the stairs that'll take us to the entertainment room in the basement.
She looked at the pictures hanging over the walls as we have walked the stairs, her fingers brushing the wall. "While I was waiting he asked me how I was faring now I'm an Elite. I told him it was all different now." She shrugged. "And that I believe in destiny, and that fate must have stored something big for me if it brought me here. He was a Seven before he got recruited, he told me himself, and said he doesn't believe in fate. It's always been cruel on him so he refuses to bow to it. I gave him a few examples of movies and that's when our small debate started."
"Hmm. Do you believe in fate?" I asked aloud. Down in the basement, with almost to no guard and no sound, my question echoed. "That there is something big stored in fate's bag for us?"
Her eyes gleamed with some memory or something, looking away. A small smile tugged on her lips, lifting her mouth in a beautiful way. "I have been told fairytales since I was five, Maxon. I've been watching those shitty movies, as Natalie calls the romantic ones, since forever." She turned to me, looking me in the eye. "When I came here I didn't know you. I thought you were the most eligible bachelor so I've got to love you. I tried. But it didn't happen." She shrugged. "I guess there's no prince charming for me. Maybe a knight in shining armour? But that doesn't mean I'm not getting my fairytale. I'll get it. Fight for it if I have to. I haven't come this far, all the way from my home to here, just to lose. No. So, yes. I do believe in them."
"Wow."
"Do you believe in them?"
"I haven't talked with many girls a couple months before and now I've got to choose my bride from the remaining six I've chosen from a bunch of thirty five girls. If this isn't fate's twisted way, then I have no idea what it is."
"It gave you her." She murmured, so low like a faint whisper, but it still echoed in the silence in here. She didn't have to say the specific name, already knowing whom.
"I wish it was simple, Marlee." A sigh full of longing escaped me.
She frowned, somehow knowing what I meant, knowing what it was like.
No one spoke another word as we played billiards. Or felt anything when I taught her how to strike in the cliché way by going behind her, circling her in my arms so that I could teach her myself. She was a friend to me. Another unlikely friend in the most unlikely circumstances.
I wondered what will America say when she discovers that the friend she'd been pulling for since starting had given up on me.
I wondered what she'd have to say when she hears about my talk with Marlee.
"Don't tell America about this." Marlee said suddenly.
I nodded. I didn't have a single doubt that it would go downhill if told her.
"She loves you, too, you know. She just can't accept it herself. For reasons I don't know, but she fears it, the acceptance."
"I wish it were simple."
So low, I thought I imagined it, Marlee said "me too."
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.
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After another meeting on security and taxes, I have my second date for the day.
I knew I was rushing but father was forcing me to eliminate one. "We can't just let them sit, Maxon. This is a competition. One has to be eliminated. There is still so much work for you to do regarding the Selection. Meeting the Elites parents, getting to know them, working around your way to find least suitable one and eliminate it as fast as you can. The rebels have been silent but I don't trust them."
I'd nodded dutifully, knowing he was right. It has been more than a week since the Elites were chosen. Another week and the public would demand to know what was happening in the Selection now. Who had the upped hand, who had the most probability of being expelled from it.
So my dates with them had again went the way it was in the starting. Three dates in a day. Giving all of them an equal chance.
Almost an equal chance.
My next date in the noon was Kriss.
Like Marlee, there was next to no spark between us. But unlike her, we haven't spoken about it.
Kriss was a lady in herself—proud, elegant and contemporary. She was full of ideas and curiosity and had the spine to stand for herself. She didn't like to stay in the shadows like America, but didn't like the limelight like Celeste either.
There was something growing between us, though. An understanding. A friendship. A one I took a step for. On her birthday.
"We were always on road." She told me, lost in her memories as we walked from the hospital wing. We were in the gallery beside the Great Hall when she said she was feeling funny with headaches and blurred vision. She was having mild fever and I went with her for a check-up. "Dad never settled. He's been teaching as a professor almost all his life, being called to many universities because of his intellectual. We never settled until the last three years or so. When be almost retired. Now he teaches in the local university and goes only as a guest lecturer, occasionally. So I got a chance to make friends."
"I can understand that." Being alone, with no one to actually share your thoughts or feelings with. Like me, she was the only child. Another thing common between us other than our love for history. "I never had friends either."
"One would give anything to live your life, you know, even for a day."
"Likewise." I murmured. The truth.
I wanted a day off. To not be a pawn but the master of myself. Not having any burden on my shoulder or a throne on my head. A carefree day. To just be.
"How does it feel like? To be told by others what to do and what not. To be in a place where you don't want to be but it is your duty to be there. Even if you didn't ask for it?"
"I am a master of myself as well as a slave of the country, Kriss. Even if it's maddening, terrifying, it is mine to endure. Whatever the others say, I know I can do good. So, to answer your question, it is almost extravagance, but worth it."
She nodded, deeply in thought about something.
We turned the corner, passing by the window facing the sun. The sunlight caught on the necklace she wore everyday. The North star. The guide. "You always wear it." It wasn't a question.
Her hand curled over the eight pointed star, securing it in her fist. "Yes. It's a family heirloom. My father gave it to me when I turned sixteen. We were in Britain that time. Over there, sixteen is the major year for any one. He's interested in astrology—the space, the stars, the planets. The many puzzles and questions of universe intrigues him. He gave me, saying the North star will always guide me. To home."
"You worship your father."
"Who doesn't?" her question was rhetorical, but my answer, if I had to give, wasn't. "He is my crutch. My first love. My friend, teacher and philosopher and guide."
Yes. You're right. My father, too, is all that. But he isn't just my father. No. He never was. He was everything to me—a friend, philosopher, guide, teacher—but never a father. Always and forever a king. A ruler who remembered to teach his heir to become a good prince and a better king, but forgot that he had a son, too.
I loved my father—how couldn't I?—but I despised the king that never let the father in him rise.
"Queen Amberly is wonderful." She murmured, looking at a picture of me with her. She was sitting on a chair while I sat in its armrest, a hand over her shoulder.
"She is. Illéa couldn't have asked for a better queen, and I for a better mother. She is the best."
"She is."
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Before dinner, I went to my last date for the day.
Natalie.
She was a mirror image of Elise—a total opposite of her. Where Elise was calm and composed, Natalie was spontaneous, eager and never still. An exact copy of Marlee in a different way.
She liked me, liked the crown as well. But didn't want it as desperately as Celeste. She loved me in her own way whilst also respecting me, not just the prince but me as well.
A bubbly personality through and through, always speaking with heart and never thinking with her head. A quality a queen should possess, but that was her drawback. She never thought with her head. Always listened to her heart.
We were coming back from our tour of the stables. Thunder was getting restless, wanting a ride. Not just walking around but a real ride. Feel the wind. Run like it. To give him that, I asked Justin to take him for a ride in the forest, but not far away. Just near the perimeter.
"It isn't safe yet." She whispered while we waited for Thunder to return. He wasn't back and that had started to worry me. The rebels couldn't be trusted. Not even with my horse.
Not wanting to lie, but not wanting to share he whole truth either, I chose to give her a partial truth. "Forests are the no one's land. We can't look on everybody in it. It's always a risk going in there after twilight."
She shuddered slightly, but claimed it was due to the chilliness of the rising night.
"How is it going with your project?" The project was their upcoming debate regarding the security and war and army. All the Elites were dreading it. The anticipation of it gnawing on them like a darkness.
"I have no clue. I am not good with army strategies, I realised." She chuckled once, followed by a sigh. "Help me?"
This time I was the one to chuckle. "No chance."
She huphed, looking at the figure now emerging from the forest. Thunder with Justin on him. I waved at My brother since I was Five, grinned at the exhilaration while my friend since eleven, my companion, Thunder, whined with happiness, excited to feel wind again. And I patted him, rubbing a palm over his brown skin. "Well done, my friend. I'll come next time with you."
He understood me. Of course he did as he got excited again. Justin waited by Natalie's side as I tied Thunder to his post. "Be patient, okay?" I smiled when he huphed, as if to say you're asking me to be that?
Justin looked at me and hid his amusement well, but I saw it and glared at him. He snorted so lightly even I didn't hear and made his way in. Oh, brother, you're going to pay for it.
Back on our tracks to go for the dining room, Natalie rambled on about everything she could think of.
If Elise annoyed me by her constant agreement, then Natalie did the job as well as her by rambling continuously. She never tired of talking. Never listened to me. It was always me who listened to her, not her.
A girl with not so good ideas, a backbone which did no good in front of others, a kind heart but an equally aloof mind, she was an Elite just because of two reasons. People's favourite and Elise's only friend.
America could be a queen if she put some effort in it, not like others who were already ready for it, but not Natalie. She could never be it. It wasn't in her. She had a faint heart. And s queen couldn't afford that.
What good would it do if I was sincere to them. If they knew who were the actual contenders. Out of the six, the actual competition was only between two. Kriss and Celeste. Who could be a better queen? I was going out of my ways to push America in that competition as well, finding all the loopholes I could to my benefit.
The actual question was: will it be worth it?
Could I afford being selfish just once, throw all the cautions away and write my own fate?
This is not just a story of Maxon and America.It's a story of Maxon and his Elites.In here, many times, you'll witness how Maxon spends time with them, almost equally, so that he gives them a fair chance.Yes, loves America, but he knows firsthand how it feels like to be not given a chance. So he makes sure he doesn't make his Elites feel the same way.So no matter how much he dislikes someone or what he wants to do in case if someone particular, he shows up with a smile.