"Rebel movements were noticed in the north of our state, along the whole border." Justin informed me he next morning while I was reading the news I'd received a few minutes earlier.

Rebel attacks. Mild ones. A few lands were captured for their personal use but the people were safe. Unharmed. They were escorted to other barren land, near the city and faraway from the land they'd taken over.

Maddening and confusing. "Northern rebels." They didn't want to hurt people, the only exception being us.

Justin nodded, sighing deeply as he read along with me.

The paper was thin, creased and torn in many places by being handed to many people before reaching my hands—where it was addressed to. It read nothing major. Just the basic information that we already know. THEY ARE COMING. BE SAFE. BE READY. AND SELECT ONE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

Whomever it was, I was sure they were rebels. But why try to alarm me when they are the ones doing it in the first place?

I shook my head, folding the paper back and tearing it. It shouldn't reach other hands where it may become a way of manipulation. For now it was my secret—and I wasn't willing to share it until I was sure about anything else.

Glancing sideways, my eyes bet the grey ones. My butler by position but my friend long before that, since I was a child. A few years older to me yet a dear friend and almost an older brother. He nodded, knowing what I wasn't trying to say.

Being a prince, and a single child, had taken its toll over me since my birth. I didn't have the luxury of friends in here. I was lucky enough to have Justin and a few others but no one else. Saying the words 'don't tell about it to anyone' aloud was near about a wound to out friendship and trust and understanding.

He patted my shoulder, affirming with his eyes. Taking the paper pieces from her, he left me alone. Leaving me with the mystery of the rebels over my head.

Shaking my head, I went to my father's room for the meeting he had called everyone for.

The annual taxes, security and budgets were to be announced in the upcoming report. Tonight. Which would be the axis for the debate showcasing what the Elites were capable of to Illéa.

America had been very weary of her texts, not deciding what she could say. She didn't know about the debate—it was to be a surprise—so I couldn't help her. And after dad's orders of trying to spend more time with the Elites in order to eliminate one this weekend, I tried to envelope myself in work and them. Already I'd denied America's request of meeting me yesterday, after dinner, when she tugged her ear. I'd had work, yes, and I was wearied down to my bones.

So much work for one person.

Dinner passed in a flash, and so did the preparation of today's Report. Wearing a grey suit coat over my black shirt, I wondered about how to explain my plan to Dad and convince him. Yes, it was for America, but for the other Elites as well. In the middle of every unknown and unfamiliar things, a few days of being surrounded by their loved ones will be a haven.

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.

.

"For today's Report," Dad announced, looking up at me from his pile of papers and reports and whatnots as I entered his office, "I want you to be the one announcing everything. Summarise our achievements, the upcoming budget and the taxes."

I nodded, hands folded at my back. Ever since the Selection he had started to give me these works. Preparing me. Not just a pawn but also an important piece now that I am on a verge to Select a wife for myself. Testing me, he said, to make sure I was ready for whatever comes. Always telling me every single thing at the last moment to make me familiar with working in stress.

"Okay." He handed me a few papers which summarised the half yearly things of Illéa.

The door opened, allowing Mom to enter. Wearing a white gown with her brown hair cascading down her shoulders, a smile on her face and so much light in her eyes, she was the complete opposite of my father. Complimenting him with herself.

She kissed my cheek and rubbed the spot later, no doubt erasing any trace of her lipstick smudge. Father stood up, kissing her forehead and saying something against her temple that made her blush and giggle. When laughing, she looked so much like Shannon, my eighteen year old cousin. Young and free, and hopelessly in love with a person who loved her as much.

Dad was always a mysterious person. His definition of everything was different from Mom. Of love, of friendship, of promises and his duties. Always a two faced person who knew when to dorm which face. He loved me, in his own way he did. But with Mom there was no other face for him to wear. He was just prince Clarkson again, meeting his wife and loving her again and again.

Dad smiled at me, a true smile which I got occasionally, and waved me over to come to sit by the unlit fireplace, on the loveseat. "Ready to bear the duties of the future king?" he asked, sitting down with mom's hand in his hand. He always held it with extreme care, his only crutch.

I nodded, relaxing. "I guess. Although, must say, the Selection is taking its toll. There's too much work but no such time to do it."

He laughed again, looking at Mom. She too smiled at him, both of them lost in some of their memories.

"It wears on you, doesn't it?" He said, waving a hand to all the reports in from of us on the table. Reports of everything happening in the palaces as well as Illéa, of outside of here or on the border. "The Selection, the Elites and their being everywhere in your life, your duties and your wishes. It's suffocating." He sighed.

I'd never asked Dad for his advice. Why and how would I? He was always strict with me, always telling me to do my duty well. In facing the king I often forget that he wasn't father and had been a prince himself. Just like in the burden of his duties he forgot he had a son.

Before I could say anything, he nodded at me, understanding me well. "I know I haven't been actively present in your Selection, throwing my choices and decisions of you." This time I nodded. Once again the father in him let the king talk, forgetting his son but the prince. "And I know you've been good, Maxon. I don't tell it enough but always remember it." My back flexed with pride and his smile wavered just for a second understanding my action. "Can I give you an advice, though?" Though be framed it as a question, he didn't waif for me to answer. "Do not lose yourself or let them. You are a prince through and through. Some would want you for your crown, some for the prince. If you lose either of that side of yours for them, it'll be the end."

Mom, who was listening intently to what Dad had for a advice, beamed up. She too had given me the same advice. At the start of the Selection, not when I was on the verge of Elites and so close to choose one.

"You may get attached to some," I didn't miss his idea of who that one was, "but do not go further because it'll only lead to many problems for you."

I didn't miss his point here as well. Choose accordingly that he can't deny. Not someone like America who was anything but a lady in front him. Just a nuisance who was here for the sake of people.

Although I knew he'd be using me as a pawn again in no time, I nodded, almost giddy. These were rare moments when he was trying his best to be the father I always wanted. Not a king but a part of our family.

He nodded, waving his one hand to the papers which held the names of Elites and their report for the week sent by Silvia. "When are you deciding to eliminate one? You'll have to meet their parents first." A reminder of the rules. Know the Elites completely before their elimination. "With the new report of the rebel attack in the north oh the state—"

"I heard it." Not the complete honesty about what I knew but enough for him, for now. "About that," Telling him this was almost similar to getting a scratch on the diamond—looks easy but is anything but. "I was in the hidden library a few days ago." Again, only the part of truth be should know about. "I was looking for some privacy and some ideas for budget and my new project when I read about Halloween."

"Ah! The absurdity a few call festival."

So he knew about Halloween..

"I was wondering if we could celebrate it again?"

"Oh?" he wasn't impressed. Not in the least.

But my attention wasn't on him but my wild card who could convince him to do anything. Mom nodded, trying to listen my points.

"It's time we meet the Elites' parents. So why not make an occasion out of it? Re-introduce Halloween and invite them, actually their whole family, to celebrate with us. All of the girls had been a little homesick recently. They'll love it. We'll bring a forgotten festival back to Illéa. A way of sliding their attention away from the attack in the North. It isn't mild to make highlights but why risk it?"

"The families of the Elites will come for a week's stay. The reporters will get some juicy things to say about the Elites. After a few days, one of the family will take their daughter along with them."

He was shaking his head but Mom interrupted him before he could even object. "It's time, Clarkson, to give some happiness to our people. We can't find any other good way than to reintroduce a tradition or to eliminate one. Try to think rationally."

My favourite wild card.

While Dad was considering it, Mom winked at me, already guessing the most of it.

"Four days." He hedged, looking at me, then Mom. "The families of the Elites will come by Saturday evening. Halloween ball dance will be on Sunday. A special Report just for the Elites and their families on Monday followed by elimination on Tuesday."

I nodded hastily before he could change his mind. "Agreed."

Mom also knew a little about Halloween, she told us, but didn't know the main parts: What, how and why. It was interesting to explain them, where Mom was intrigued while dad was trying his best go look interested. Not minding it a bit, I told them about Trick-and-treat.

"We'll ask the Elites to wear something appropriate. Celebrate Halloween the way it always had."

"It's ridiculous!" Dad grumbled but didn't say anything. He was elated and relaxed watching Mom work and explain all the things she had running in her mind—ready for her role of hostess.

Yes. It is ridiculous. I thought to myself. But seeing America happy, excited to meet her family—seeing all of them happy—wasn't ridiculous.

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.

The Report ended for me a few minutes after it started. All I had to do was announce the new projects and the old ones, tell the people how their country was prospering. It wasn't the same for the Elites.

The debate—their surprise test—went far more long then anticipated. Mostly because for every point Celeste had, Kriss and America retorted with a perfect reply. For every suggestion they both did, Elise and Natalie started to point out the places where they lacked. The only one not interested in it was Marlee. She was far from looking natural. Almost pale. Debate wasn't her forte. It was of Kriss's. The argument or Celeste and Kriss often went from one point to another, with the occasional help of others.

Kriss and America had become a team, backing up each other. Marlee their silent partner. Whereas the other three were trying their best to their offence.

Next to Dad, Mom listened to them with interest. "Marlee is usually jumpy when it comes to present herself but equally dreading when she has to show her abilities." She noted. "Not a good prospect of her, I must say. She won't understand the strategic viewpoint."

Dad agreed, nodding.

Today's debate wasn't a test for them, but also for the king and queen. They were to give their views of the Elites. Till now only Celeste, Kriss and America had done a good job to impress her. And only Celeste could make the king proud.

Dad almost snickered at the proposal of America to open up the recruitment of army to voluntary. And he couldn't scoff when Kriss backed America, adding women in the army as well.

Mom's voice cut my concentration on the ongoing debate. "Kriss is full of ideas and optimism. But not reality."

"A deadly combination." The king muttered.

Mom nodded, agreeing. "America is realistic but driven by her experience as her Five. It won't surprise me if she suggests a day of role reversal so the upper castes could experience what she did."

I knew that, too.

"Celeste on the other hand." She shook her head from side to side, frowning at the suggestion Celeste gave: End the war straight away. "She is realistic but not in a good way. She don't want to listen to the lower castes."

I knew that, too. She could be ignorant when it came go looking at anyone but her.

"She'll be a good queen." Mom surprised me by her offhand comment. "Disciplined, used to having her way. But not a good wife. If anything," She turned to me, smirking. "you both will tear each other apart to make a point."

I laughed softly at her keen observation. "It's difficult to find a queen who'll match the standard you've set, Mom."

Dad smiled, looking at her. "Yes. She's the best of the best."

"Oh, shut up you two." She gushed, her cheeks flushed.

"What do you think of Elise?" I asked of my Mom, already knowing she'll make it to the last two Elites just because of her contacts rather than herself.

"Shy. Too timid to carry the burden of a queen. A complete opposite to Natalie's boldness and spontaneous nature."

It was true. Elise hadn't come up with any good point yet. Mostly talking about the war and the army, pointing out in the most subtle way that we needed her. Natalie on the other hand wasn't prepared even when she was backing up Celeste whenever she could, only because there wasn't any point to cover when it came to Kriss and America. A very strong team.

"Careful, love." Dad murmured, his eyes only for his wife. "One would think you're reluctant to leave your post as a queen."

She laughed, waving it away. "Maybe everyone will think I am being thorough in choosing a princess as well as a daughter."

While they both talked, wrapped up in their own bubble, I looked at the Elites and wondered whom would I have to eliminate?

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.

The announcements of the upcoming party—Halloween and the guests—would be made by tomorrow breakfast, I wanted America to hear it first. It was her curiosity that led us here after all.

The clock chimed nine thirty when I turned the corner for her room.

Fridays had become our official dates. We always met after the Report, walking and talking. Just like today. Unlike the many times, it was uncalled for. Her door was open, a few voices coming through it.

Hmm...her maids were still here.

Not thinking through it I moved the door ajar and welcomed myself in, not caring to be a gentleman for now. It never mattered anyway with her. "I had a thought." I said aloud, the ladies acknowledging my presence.

One of them dropped her pins as she curtsied deeply. My offer to help her was refused as she picked up the pins herself and the whole lot of her maids went out as fast as they could, one of them widening her eyes to the others in a way to be subtle.

It was difficult to hold my laughter. America held back, too. And we both gave up when the door closed behind them.

Turning back to her mirror, she busied herself in freeing her hair, letting it slide down her shoulders. While she worked, I murmured, referring to her maids, "They're a funny lot."

"It's just that they admire you so much."

I waved the compliment away. "Sorry I interrupted."

"It's fine." She answered, looking at me through her mirror. Once all the pins were out of her hair, they fell down her shoulders like a living fire. "Do I look okay?"

Okay...that was the least appropriate word for her. She looked exquisite. Her cheeks red sans any make-up, her hair flowing by the gentle breeze blowing through the garden, the sensuous smile of her that made her lips feel alive...

There was no other word for her.

I realised, looking at her reflection, she was still waiting for my answer.

Shrugging it off and playing it cool, I avoided the question. The right thing to do. I couldn't tell her what I felt for she wasn't ready and it wasn't in me to lie to her. "Anyway, this idea..."

"Do tell."

So I did. "You remember that Halloween thing?"

"Yes. Oh, I still haven't read the diary. It's well hidden though,"

Ah, yes. The diary. Another half truth my father didn't know about. "It's fine. No one's looking for it. Anyway, I was thinking. All those books said it fell in October, right?"

"Yes."

"It's October now." The way she looked confused, trying to fill in the dots was adorable. "Why don't we have a Halloween party?"

Till now I was speaking to her reflection, but then not. She turned in her seat, facing me, her face full of wonder and hope and disbelief. I was right go not wait. I didn't want to miss her reaction. Especially the way her jaw fell open.

"Really? Oh, Maxon, could we?"

"Would you like that?"

She didn't disappoint. "I would love it!"

"I figure all the Selected girls could have costumes made. The off-duty guards could be spare dance partners since there's only one of me and it would be unfair to make everyone stand around waiting for a turn." It was going to be a headache at it's best, a disaster at it's worst for me. "And we could do dancing lessons over the next week or two. You did say there wasn't much to do during the days sometimes. And candy! We'll have the best candies made and imported." If regular sweets and tarts could make her feel bliss, then the chocolates and imported candies...Heaven forbid the image that ran in my mind imagining it. "You, my dear, will be stuffed by the end of the night. We'll have to roll you off the floor."

But she wasn't laughing. She was hypnotised by the painting I drew for her. An almost truth. I'll have five other girls to entertain even when there was only one that mattered.

She was still looking at me with wonder, wanting to see the picture come true I was painting for her.

My next words came in the same transfixed way, few more brush strokes to complete the whole picture of the future. A future in which I was making the right decision as a king, making everyone proud. "And we'll make an announcement, tell the entire country to celebrate. Let the children dress up and go door-to-door doing tricks, like they used to." She nodded, her eyes still glassed over. "Your sister will love that, yes?"

Her voice was just as filled with wonder as she looked. "Of course she will! Everyone will!"

"How do you think she would like celebrating here, at the palace?"

"What?"

"At some point in the competition, I'm supposed to meet the parents of the Elite. Might as well have siblings come and do this around a festive time as opposed to waiting—"

Before my explanation was over I lost the bet with myself. I'd thought she'll dance around, ask for details, but no. She didn't. She ran in my arms as soon as possible, wrapping me in her tight embrace. I could feel her happiness radiate through her body.

This was the reaction for which I was playing with half-truths and walking around a line. Why a banned festival was suddenly so important and meeting the Elites' family my first priority. The reason was still wrapped around tightly in my arms, her blue eyes looking in mine with so much wonder and happiness—and I dared to hope, love—it seemed impossible to look around at anything else.

"Do you mean it?" She breathed. "Can they really come?"

"Of course. I've been longing to meet them, and it's part of the competition. Anyway, I think it would do all of you good to see your families."

She blinked back her tears. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome …. I know you love them." Please tell me you love me, too.

"I do." Was her only response. Not something I wanted to hear, but knew all the same.

She could do anything for them. She already did. "And it's clear you'd do practically anything for them. After all, you stayed in the Selection for them." A fact my mind always urges my heart to never forget.

She was here for them. Maybe still. Maybe not. Unlike others, the crown or the prince wasn't her only motivation. She'd made me realise it time to time. When she made the deal with me, when she kissed me or asked me for time. When she was expecting me to leave her or when she was too hopeful to believe in us.

Always mixed signals.

Something that was part of her and—

My thoughts were interrupted as she jerked back, scowling a little. What did I do now? I thought, wanting her back in my embrace. Nothing felt more right that that.

"Maxon, they were part of the reason I stayed in the beginning, but they're not why I'm here now. You know that, right? I'm here because …"

"Because?"

Complete that thought... Tell me that I am your motive to stay here.

She did no such thing. Just looked at me with quite wonder and musings. "Because?" Almost breathing that small word, I dared myself to hope more. For everything that I'd ever dreamed of for this Selection.

She smiled at me, all flirting and teasing, walking back. Trying to escape...

Before she could run out of her room, I shouted, "America Singer, you get back here!" and ran to block her way. With a hand around her waist, I held her close to me, chest to chest. Her breath washed over my face as she clamped her lips shut, trying her best not to smile.

Grumbling, I used the only weapon I had in my arsenal against her. "Fine, then I shall have to rely on other means of communication." Before she could react, my lips framed hers, kissing her fervidly. She lost her battle with not smiling, her hands coming around my neck to support her.

At last. She is completely at my mercy! Dipping her little, I used my weapon very, very seriously.

At first, she responded the way I liked, kissing me with equal zeal, and there was nothing I wanted more. But suddenly her tears falling off her eyes made me anxious. "Darling, what's wrong?"

She was just that. Not my dear the way everyone was. Not certainly my darling. Even more precious that others.

"I don't want to leave all this." She whispered with a sigh, sniffing slightly.

"If I remember correctly, the first time we met, you said it was like a cage." I smiled. "It does grow on you, though, doesn't it?"

Her head shook a little as she leaned back to look at me properly. "Sometimes you can be so stupid." She choked on her chuckle.

I let her lean back so I could see what was gnawing on her.

"Not the palace, Maxon. I could care less about the clothes or my bed or, believe it or not, the food."

Ah! The food. Her first love and motivation to live here.

"It's you." She continued. "I don't want to leave you."

"Me?" A nod. "You want me?"

She giggled, solidifying her point. "That's what I'm saying."

I tried hard to find the loophole around if she was tricking me or saying something just for me, but it was never there. She was utterly sincere about it.

My mind had turned incoherent. "How—But—What did I do?"

"I don't know," She shrugged. "I just think that we'd be a good us."

I liked the us. It was everything I'd let myself hope for. "We'd be a wonderful us." I told her, a certainty. And before I could lose my mind over flying or she changed her thoughts, I kissed her again, roughly even, but it was all I could do to ground me here. For I certainly was intent on flying on the clouds.

"Are you sure?" A cross-check, making sure she was decided on us, as I looked at her from arms length. "Are you absolutely positive?"

"If you're sure, I'm sure."

It was the closest thing to yes I'd ever heard from her.

I wanted to shout that I am ready. I couldn't get anymore ready. I had been since the day she befriended me, walked with me in the gardens, shown me the real world. Since she played the sonata in her violin. Striking not only her strings but also my heart.

Pulling her closer to me, we went to the bed where we sat down, both of us snuggling. Her head was perched up on my shoulder, our hands linked together in my lap.

While we both sat, silent in a way we've never managed, I marvelled at the wonderful lady sitting beside me.

The next queen of Illéa. My partner. My wife.

I've never been able to understand how my father, a very sneering, cruel, impatient king, managed to love a sweet, caring, patient and a wonderful Amberly Station. But it was all there in their wedding videos. The ones I had access to due to the Report of their times. I've never seen my father that happy or gloating. Or my mother that radiant as she was walking down the aisle.

Ever since that day I'd been imagining the same happening to me. Meeting someone, falling in love, marrying her, making her mine. Every teasing and kiss and joke and laughter that brought us closer. The one with whom I fell more deeply in love with every other day. With whom I could share my deepest secrets, my strangest thoughts.

My everything.

Suddenly I could. I could see all that happening behind my open eyelids.

America saying yes when I propose her. America walking down the aisle to me in a white dress, all radiant and glowing. America accepting the vows that'll make us each others'. America being called my wife, the queen of Illéa. Strawberry tarts lying next to my papers on my desk, butter smudges everywhere along the table. Our adjoining room opening as she came in the night to stay by my side. Her womb increasing day by day as she carried my child within her. A complete family of us. With two girls and two boys—or maybe more girls than boys—all looking a mixture of our personalities. With her eyes and my hair, with her humour and my laughter.

I wanted all of that. Every single thing I'd dreamed about.

All of those were just over the threshold, waiting for me with a smile. One of my hand outstretched for America to accept me.

And she'd say yes. She'll give me her hand as we both cross the threshold together for the futures awaiting for us.

Straightening up a little, I realized that the only thing that was missing was the formal proposal and my duty as a prince to give every other Elite a chance to prove herself worthy of the competition.

"I should probably go. If we're going to add all the families to the celebration, I need to make extra plans."

Not to mention what the stupid, silly part of me wanted to do.

The way she looked at me was pure wonder and amazement. She will say yes if I ask her now.

Ask her! Just ask her! Damn the consequences and stop thinking what others will think. Just do it!

No. My mind argued against my heart. Plan it thoroughly. Make an occasion out of it. Something from which she can't say no even if she wants to.

I was still reeling in it when she said her thank you. I could do nothing better than kiss her forehead, smiling at the thought of myself saying the same to get when she accepts my hand.

She walked me to her door, our hands linked the whole time. Now that I knew whom I wanted to held onto, I couldn't come up to leave the small thing. "I'll see you tomorrow." I mumbled, mostly to myself, my breath washing over her face just as hers was washing over mine. Soil and almonds and winters, along with a hint of her French vanilla scent. She was breathtaking. So adorable I couldn't get enough of her. "You're astonishing." I whispered, speaking the truth.

Looking back as I left her room, I saw her standing just over the threshold, her eyes all for me.

Just like the future that was waiting for me.

There were so many things brewing up in Maxon's life, but there were a few constants as well.It felt cruel to give him everything but not a good friend.As my other story, The Prince and His Selection, had progressed, there were subtle hints sent that Justin wasn't just Maxon's butler but so much more.A good glimpse was given in the novella where Maxon talks freely to him while he prepares for his big day.Here, as the story will progress, you'll see just how amazing the character of Justin is—just as I saw it.I hope you like him, just as much I am fond of him.