"Good bye, my dear." I said as I dropped Kriss on her bed. Her leg had swollen up to a good measure and she was grimacing in pain when she settled down.
"I thought I'd say good night, but it's hurting so much."
"I've already asked Dr. Ashler to look after your leg. You'll be fine by mid-day. Rest. And get well soon." With that I took her leave
It was still an early morning, just after dawn, but it looked like a hell in the hallways. On all the walls the rebels had left a single message: WE ARE COMING, written with mud or coal, painted with red colour—or was it blood? Whatever it was, it was all gruesome. Especially their warning.
It was nothing new though. The message they've left was the same one they once threw at us, and it was also what the Northern rebels were trying to tell me through their personal letters to me.
Did it mean the Northern rebels were actually trying to be our allies?
I didn't linger on that. As I still had a good hour to be present at the meeting, I told Justin to act as if I was taking a bath, and also to inform Agatha Sweetings that I'll have my breakfast with Marlee. While he was doing my work, I changed in a dirty cloak and went through the passageway to the quarters where their room were.
We had worked on a secret knock that would suggest the arrival of one of my selected and most approved people. I hadn't visited here since almost a week, but I knew the code well. Three—one—two—two—one knocks. The door opened, revealing a scared Marlee, who, as soon as she saw me, took me a big, warm embrace. "Last night was rough. I was so scared! Are you all right?"
"I came here to ask you the same thing, Marlee." I murmured in her hair.
She chuckled and waved her hand as if it was nothing. "We were just fine. Scared, no doubt, but it turned out even the rebels never come in this lobby. Poor Carter took the worst hit, though." At the mention of her fiancé, she stepped away and let me in, revealing a sight of shirtless Carter lying on his stomach, his back wounds all stitched back and recovering. "He got so anxious and ready to be a hero by protecting me, he forgot that he shouldn't be moving till another couple days and messed with his recovery."
Carter just made a face at her—a face which said he was annoyed with her, but also that he loved her so much he would take her annoying him more than a scared one.
It was the moment it actually hit me how happy they were. Limited as they were with everything, they were tremendously happy.
Content. Elated.
This was not just the Marlee—an innocent and bubbly girl I met—but an actual woman. And Carter, too, wasn't just a guard who was just here to protect her, but actually take care of her. Love her.
Justin always gave me reports on how they both were faring, and I always wanted the best for them, but seeing them was so much more than just hearing about them.
I pulled Marlee in another tight hug, kissing her hair. "I'm so happy you are happy, Marlee."
"Me, too, Maxon. It feels free. Like I'm freed. No more expectations or anything lunacy. I can just be me, with my soon to be husband."
"It is all because of you, Maxon." Carter said, smiling at us. "No matter how many times I thank you, it will never be enough."
"Oh, that's good, because I want the repayment as a breakfast. My stomach is grumbling."
Marlee laughed, just as someone else knocked the secret code and in came Agatha, carrying a breakfast tray for us. Thanking her, we suited ourselves to breakfast, filling each other with the ongoing things in our lives. They told me about their work and how they were faring, and I filled in with my distance with America, and how busy my schedule was with the impending arrival of guests. Of course I wasn't allowed to tell them about that, but it was a common knowledge among the palace staff, so it didn't matter much.
"The Italians will be busy on Wednesday after noon, and the everyone will be preparing for the arrival of the Italians. A perfect time for no one noticing me slipping out for an hour or half. Justin, my butler, has already applied for ordaining—we didn't want to involve many people. I can't tell America before that so you'll be lacking your maid of honour, Marlee, and I'm sorry I can't send an invite any of your friends, Carter."
They both were fine with that. Marlee's only demand was: "Can you give me away, Maxon?" At my confusion she smiled and held my hand in hers. "I met you as one of your Selected, but soon I found a friend in you. And now you are the big brother I always wanted but never had" She squeezed my hand. "I wouldn't be here if not for you, Maxon. And now, when I would be walking down the aisle towards my future, I wouldn't want anyone else walking beside me, giving me away. Will you—"
"It would be my honour, Marlee."
As a thanks, she squeezed my hand once again.
.
.
.
While I was getting ready, I thought about the last night.
Kriss was a right choice for a queen. She was, in every way, right.
She is kind, gentle, curious, humble, and have no evil thoughts for her friends. She was, in every way, another image, if disarrayed and blurred, of my Mom as a queen.
And I could rely on her.
Even if I didn't love her, I did like her. And that was something, wasn't it?
Sure she wasn't like America, but I had to have a backup option. And seeing how America was still cross with me... Kriss was the only spare I could see for now.
Sure I was totally on getting America back. Last night had been the prime for that, when I held her even if for a moment, it was perfect. In her eyes I could see that she, too, wanted out differences to be resolved. She said she'll talk to me soon, and I was already waiting for the talk. She won't tell me to send her away. I won't let her.
And after she sees that Marlee is safe and well, she'll forgive me. She has to. And then I could have her back. Half a week and she'll be back with me. And if—when—I get her back. I won't let her go as I did on Halloween. I'll propose her then and there and she'll be mine.
Everybody but Mom thought why I loved her. But the truth was, I loved her because she made me feel me.
She made me feel alive, challenged, inspired… like I was worth something. She didn't care about the crown like others—ironically enough, she liked me much better without it.
Now that she wasn't talking to me, it made me realise how much I already loved her. She had barely spoken to me for what seemed like years, and every time she ignored me it was a knife in my heart.
As much as I wanted to spend every waking second trying to win her over—again—I couldn't risk shutting out the other girls. I hated considering it, but I had to be a realistic rather than a dreamer. If America walked out for good, I would have to marry one of them.
At the moment, Kriss seemed like the best option.
I did not think about the other possibilities, the other maybe's. They were no use to me if I was to be optimistic. But there was a thin line between being optimistic and realistic, and I had to be realistic. If I can't have America... It was Kriss then.
As it was less sunny today and cool, autumn winter breeze had started to blow instead of crispy, autumn ones, we all decided to venture in the grounds today. Not to mention that the palace was in a desperate need of cleansing after the Southern rebels' handiwork. Father and I worked on papers, while Mom looked after the Elites, helping them understand and clearing their doubts on the party the Elites were to throw in the honour of our guests.
"I don't get it." I murmured, looking between two papers. "Flynn reported that everything is clear and well on New Asia border, but Quintal mentioned that there was some sort of disturbance on the border not a couple days ago."
"We are at a state of war, Maxon. Every minute we get new updates. There is nothing to be concerned about."
But I didn't take it. There was something disturbing about it. Something that was wrong and remained unseen. Excusing myself, I went to a corner and called Yayra Saif, a friend of mine in the embassy in new Asia, and asked her to get me latest updates and reports. I told her about my doubts and she told me she'll update me up by tomorrow morning. On the second thought, I called Kevin Disk, to get updates on what was happening in the South. He knew about my involvement in Marlee's exchange with the twins and had helped me in the South. He said he'll inform me about everything in the late night or early morning as he was expected somewhere.
Now that I was free, I went back to my work. Father was busy in writing down the terms he wanted with the Germans with Stavros. I, too, started giving him my opinions. I informed him about how the weapons we exported to them were outdated and how we should construct new ones, on how our trade was being more about import and less trade. But just like always be ignored my ideas, saying "You shouldn't involve in this. I'm quite sure you won't be able to stop yourself from making a mistake and that is the last thing I need right now. We'll consider your ideas and views when you are deemed fit."
It wasn't any new. He always told me the same thing, but today he went far. Not only did Mom heard him, but also Stavros, who looked at me with pity in his eyes.
It was too much.
Wanting to look elsewhere, my eyes went to America, as usual, who was sitting with Kriss, no doubt debating on what should they'd prepare. She already had her eyes on me. I waved with a cheerful smile. It was time I started to make my way back to her. Her eyes widened, the smile from her face slipped, and instead of her Kriss waved back. America, as if I meant nothing, looked away from me.
"Sure you can understand why I say so, Maxon." Father said, in a seething voice. "When you can't see what you're getting into, how can I give you so important matters to look into."
No. He went too far today.
My eyes snapped to him, looking at him with so much fury. "Sure you know that my Selection and my role as a prince—"
He nearly rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Sure. Why don't you go play with your Elites while I have some important work to do."
How could I say him that when he wasn't ready to listen to it.
Wanting to need some air, I walked to the water container. But as if I were a magnet and they were made of iron, Celeste and Kriss came to me, not caring about my personal space. Or some privacy.
"You look tired, Maxon." Celeste said. "It would be obvious after you stayed awake the whole night."
Pasting on the best smile I could muster, I said, "You're right, Celeste. But duty calls. Even rest can't delay it. Else I would very much like to spend time with you instead of those papers."
"Really?" she crooned, running her fingers over my wrist. "I would be very glad, Your Highness."
"Hello." In came Kriss, wobbling her way to us, her mouth turned into an inviting smile.
Before I could say anything, Celeste said, "How is your leg, Kriss?"
Anybody could hear her accusing tone.
"It's much better, Celeste." Kriss replied with the same inviting smile, but I could see her eyes harden with fury. She turned to me, her eyes melting back to inviting. "Thank you, Maxon, for the doctor. If it weren't for you, I'm sure my legs would've stopped working after those stairs."
"I am glad your ankle is fine. Now, if you both will excuse me, I have some wor—"
"Rebels!" A guard yelled. "Run! Rebels inside the palace! Run!"
No! This can't be happening. Two attacks in a day? It wasn't justified.
Mom, an image of calmness, went to a secret door in the corner of the lawn and waved the others to follow. Celeste, seeing her, followed after her and so did Elise and Natalie. Kriss, still standing beside me, tugged on my hand. "What are you thinking? Come. Let's go!"
Her leg! I scooped her up in my arms and handed her to a nearby guard—OFFICER LEGER—and ordered him to take her to safety. Looking back, I saw father surrounded by his own guards who formed a circle around him while he collected all the important papers. He caught my eye, nodding at me that we should leave now.
Yes. We should. Everyone was saf—
No! Not her! Everyone wasn't safe.
It was my worst nightmare incarnated. America running in the forest, rebels after her.
"America, no!" I yelled, my heart in my throat. "Come back!"
The rebels were too close to her.
She glanced back once, her terror filled eyes catching mine. Before I could say anything, she looked front again and disappeared in the woods.
It was a dream. Just a dream. America is safe. She is safe.
But her eyes caught mine once again and I knew my hope was for nothing. It wasn't a dream. It was real. She was going away from me, and I wasn't with her to protect her.
If she...if anything happened to her...
I couldn't survive it.
I tried to run after her but couldn't, stopped by my father who was holding my coat in a death grip. "Let me go!" I roared, but he only held me tight, pulling me back to the safe room.
In the woods I caught a ball of red running zigzag in the woods, trying to outrun her chasers.
Terror like nothing else overwhelmed me. My eyes blurred. Groaning sounds came from my throat.
Bullets started flying everywhere.
"Stand down! Stand down!" I roared again and again but they didn't hear me. "You'll hit her. Cease fire! Stop it!"
Even as I yelled, neither the bullets stopped firing nor America running away from me further into the woods, and neither did the rebels stopped chasing after her.
Everything was in motion, except for me.
I've never felt this useless ever in my life.
I couldn't do anything.
There was a loud roar as a bullet found it's mark, snapping me back into the moment. I was standing at the threshold of the safe room, my eyes still on the forest. A rebel had gone down, stuck in his leg. One of his friend came and escorted him back to safety, under the cover of the trees, but America was nowhere to be seen.
She'd run away. Lost in the woods. Rebels might have caught her. A bullet might have stuck her. She may be...
She may not be coming back.
She may be gone.
Forever.
"Snap out of it!" Dad roared in a low, but a voice than commanded attention. We were on the stairs that led to the safe room. "I've given orders for the guards to find her. She'll be back, sooner or later." What he didn't say was, she'll be back, either dead or alive, injured or safe. "We'll be going down, control the situation there. Do not lose control over yourself. Others are counting on you."
"You have got to be kidding! You want to sit idly in a safe room while the girl I lo...while one of my Elite is running for her life?"
"No." He said calmly, gripping my shoulder tightly in his hand. "I want you to go in there, help your mother control the situation, work on what we were doing, and wait for the guards to find her."
Captain of the guard, Tristan Starkey, came in, holding a rifle in one hand, a small gun in another. "Your Majesties, we are to barricade the doors. If—"
I didn't let him complete the instructions I've heard since I was a child. Please! Let her be fine. And safe. I'll do whatever she wants. If she wants to go, I'll let her, but please let her come back alive. I grabbed him by his collar, yanking his face close to mine. " Find her. You could've hurt her by bullets, even when I told you to stop firing." My voice was low and levelled, my temper barely controlled, which made it the more intimidating. "I don't care how many guards go after her, I want her safe and in one piece before midnight. And if you fail, then pray to the Lord he give you strength to face your punishment. If I don't get her back and safe, none of you'll be either. Get it?"
"Yes, your Highness. A dozen guards—"
" Dozen?" Even I could barely recognised my voice.
"I'll send four dozen guards in the woods right away," he corrected, "each dozen in each direction. We'll have her back before midnight—sundown, if luck's with us. And we'll inform you first."
I nodded, but my mind and heart were far, far away.
Chancing a glance at my father, I gave him an affirmative to go. "No matter what, you're to inform me right away when you come back. With her. Do you get it?"
"Aye." He nodded, his breathing hard. "If I have your permission—"
Releasing her, I said a Go!
Once we were down, my eyes were still, just for the door, wishing against hope that anytime now America will come running in.
"Come, Maxon!" He barked, yanking on my hand, taking me to a corner where Mom was sitting.
As if I were a portable piece, I went with him, my mind still swimming with the memorises of America that I'd taken for granted. Our first meeting; our deal; our walks; when I imagined a future with her; when she said I was 'good'; our first kiss; our first fight; when I took her to the hidden library; the Halloween party; the way she felt in my arms; the future that then waited for me at the threshold; when she told me to send her away.
It was ironic, actually. She wanted to go, to be away from me. I refused, so fate took the matters in her own hands. The only question remaining was: when will she be back? When, not if. I refused to think about anything of that.
I'll have her back. Period. One way or the other. And if she still wanted to be gone...then she'll have her way. I won't interfere. But not like this. When her life was in the mix.
While I sat at Mom's feet on the slightly raised platform, my head in my hands, Dad filled in Mom with what had happened up there.
I felt a hand holding mine, helping me cling to a little bit of sanity that was left.
Looking up, I found my mother's eyes, my own eyes, looking at me with so much worries. "She's going to be fine." She murmured, squeezing my shoulder with affection—and concern for me. "Safe. And back."
"I...If..." my throat suddenly felt so much swollen, I couldn't form any words.
"Shh. It won't do any good if you'll keep worrying. Try to divert your mind. Work. Look after the Elites. Just don't think anything negative. She'll be back. Soon."
"I can't!" I gasped.
"Stop it!" It was the king's command. "Get yourself in check. Work. And stop reflecting your emotions on your face. Now go and look after these girls."
Not having anything else to do, I looked up at Mom. "Go, dumpling. Sitting still won't help anyone. Remember, you are a prince as well."
I cursed, not caring Mom heard it, running my hand through my hair, and exhaled loudly. Mom gave my hand a tight squeeze, lifting my belief in her. If anyone had the capability of outrunning the rebels, it was America. And they were Northern ones. Not to forget they were trying to win my confidence, be our allies.
Our allies...
If they could warn me against the Southern attacks, why do they attack themselves? They wanted me to believe they were good, working for the actual good of Illéa. So it was out of question whether America was well or not. They won't hurt us. At least I could convince myself with false hope.
If they, everytime, find a way to leave a letter for me, what were the chances they left one for me this time as well? Maybe...
Bless the guard who came down that moment and announced that everything was fine and well, and we were free to go. They confirmed my suspicion: it was the Northern rebel group.
Turning to the girls sitting on the cot—Kriss and Natalie together, whispering; Elise sitting beside them, listening; and Celeste sitting on whole another cot, reading magazine—I announced, "You all must be shaken. Lunch will be provided in your rooms itself. You may take the behind stairs, which will lead in the palace. Now, if you'll excuse me."
Not waiting for the questions I saw on their lips to be formed in words, I went quickly, going as fast as my legs could. Once out of sight, I ran to my room. But with one look at my makeshift bed, I didn't know either to be disappointed or relieved. There was no letter or any trace of message in sight.
Justin, following me, came in. "I see there is no new message for you."
"Did they find any sign of America?" My tone was acerbic, robotic. I knew it would be too soon for anything like that, still his negative answer made me see red. " Stupid hypocrites! They want an answer from me. Fine, then. They will receive one." Fetching a paper and a pen with enough force, I wrote, my writing too messy and rough.
You all are hypocrites! You all expect support from me still you have the guts to attack us. You have the decency to warn me against the Southern attack, but still gave the lunacy to attack, that too without informing me. You want to make me an ally, still your people chase my Elite in the woods. You want an answer and here it is. NO. A big NO. You won't win me as an ally.
I promise you one thing, though. If anything happens to America—if she gets hurt, or even a little scratch—I will personally hunt you all down and enjoy gutting your balls out. I would take delight in your every scream and take pleasure in your every cry.
And, I make you another promise: Illéa is my country. If you do it any harm, or to its people, I wouldn't take it lightly.
Chucking the paper in Justin's hand, I ordered him, "Make sure this paper reaches those bastards."
His face paled. "What? How?"
I cursed under my breath. "I don't know. Keep this on the bed and leave, or find someone who is related to them and make them deliver it, but I want my message delivered to them as soon as possible. Enough of this hypocrisy. I want an end to all these nonsense in no time." He nodded, somewhat relieved. "I'll be in my office. Tell me first thing if you get information about America."
"Okay, Maxon."
Now that I had nothing to do but wait, dread started filling my stomach. It had been almost an hour since the attack. But...
I found myself in a tight embrace of my brother, my first friend. I didn't realise how much I needed it until he held me, helping me stay strong. If Mom was the root that helped me stand, he was the rope that tethered me to sanity.
"She is going to be alright."
"Justin..."
"Do not worry about it, Max." He murmured, interrupting me, knowing already what I was thinking. "She's safe and fine. I can feel it." Pushing me back, he looked in my eyes—looking as my elder brother. "You only think: if the Northern rebels were right in wanting our support, they won't mess with her. Even if they don't know about your choice, they won't harm your Elite. Do not fret over that. If I were at your place, I would instead ask Dr. Ashler to make preparations for her check-up. And in mean time, I suggest you work. It won't do any good to anger the king."
"I don't know, Justin. I can't concentrate. I just...I wish you are right." I finished, hoping he was right in this.
Father barged in, shutting the door loudly. "Is there any news?" I asked. He never came in my room unless it was very important.
"Not of America." His lips curled at her name. "It'll take hours to search the forest. It may be night before we get any news of her. As of other things, I've sent your Elites in the women's room—a task that you should've done. They all are scared, with two attacks in a day, and I want you to calm them. Then I need you to work with me on checking the new terms and conditions sent by England and Swendway. There is also some work regarding the infrastructure and health department that you should be looking on. A new update had been made regarding your request for Southern project: A meeting would be held for the budget and infrastructure of the Southern states tomorrow at eleven. You need to prepare for that. Now, moping won't help you; I expect you to join me in the conference room in fifteen minutes."
"She may be fighting for her life in he woods," I said, my voice as low and deadly just like his, "while I'll be sitting idly, covered in luxuries and matters that will all be accomplished without my assistance. It isn't as if my opinions are considered."
His mouth turned into a sneer. "Careful what you say, boy. You wanted a chance: here it is. If you want to waste it, fine."
Before I could say anything, Justin interrupted. "Your Majesty, shall I send for lunch for both of you in the conference room?"
"Yes. Fifteen minutes, Maxon."
When he was gone, Justin held my face in his hands, looking straight in my eyes. Grey eyes bored into mine, filled with determination. "Now, you will listen to me. The Elites are in women's room, with the queen. Go there. Do your duty. Then work—it is your escapade. I'll inform the doc. And then, when she'll be back, you can sit by her side. But for that, you need to not infuriate the king. Now, go."
Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, I nodded. "Yes. She is safe. She'll be back soon."
"Good. Go. I'll see you then."
As I was expected to do, and as Justin had told me, keeping my emotions aside, I worked. And worked.
The Elites were, as I was informed, in the women's room. But keeping my calm around them was difficult, and so was telling them America was fine and will be back soon, when I didn't know I was trying to comfort them or myself.
Still, their swirling emotions overwhelmed me. At one moment they were worried about one of their friend—or opponent—and at the other moment, they were flirting with me—Celeste being the one who started it, followed by Elise and Natalie both. Kriss didn't, and that was a little comfort.
I was about to leave after a long ten minutes when Kriss approached me. "Are you alright?"
"Yes. Can I help you with anything?"
"As much as you are trying to console others, I know she'll be fine, you know?" I didn't know how to respond so I said nothing. She went on. "If there was anyone who could outrun them, and come back safely, I know without doubt it has to be America. She's too strong to be hurt."
"I hope so, Kriss. I really do." More than I could show. "I can't accept...I hope you're right." I finished lamely, not wanting her to realise my feelings for America were how deep.
"Do you want to go on a walk? Or talk? Maybe we can...Yesterday was good. And you took so much care of me. I know it's not the right time, but if we could do it any other time?"
My barely leashed temper snapped.
"Good god, Kriss! How can you even suggest such thing when you yourself said it's not the right time? Can't you stop flirting with me for a moment and see something that is too goddamn important for the time! Can't you let me be alone?"
Her eyes welled up. "If that is what you want." She mumbled, turning her back to me, going back to the women's room.
I knew she was just trying to help me, but still it infuriated me that she was trying to do that in absence of her. "I think I want to be alone for sometime." I repeated, this time gently, barely.
She didn't say anything, and I walked away.
It wasn't her fault that she wanted to talk to me. She really did care for America, even if she was her opponent. And she was comforting me, in her own way. But how could I think about something else while my heart was with someone who was, maybe fighting for her life.
No. She, maybe, wanted to help but she didn't take account of my feelings.
I won't apologize for snapping at her for that, no matter if she is angry or upset about it. If they want me to look after them, care for them, they it was a two way street. Something only America understood.
There was a difference that nobody understood. Only my Mom did. She knew me too well to know how alive I felt when I was with America. I could say anything without thinking. She understood me, gave me space and time, without any expectations. She understood the many facets of me—understood how many times I had to change the face in just a moment. Even if she didn't accept the reality of my position as prince, she told me then and there, instead of acting as if it didn't matter. Something no one else did.
I was thinking all these things—the things that transpired between us and the things that were left unsaid—and the whole day went in a haze. Still no news arrived of her. Dusk arrived, and soon it was time for dinner, but my appetite was still lost.
No news of her. Still. Yet.