The Prince And His Elites

by sd2905

All Maxon wanted from his Selection was to find his one. He was nearly there. He had his Elites. He had found someone. He was ready. But was it that ready? Look more into Maxon's amazing story after he selects his Elites. New bonds are made. New relations are forged. Everything is new. But what about him? This is Maxon's journey in finding his one out of his Elites.

18. Tying The Loose Ends

It was before dawn when I got ready for my special task today.

The Italians were going to be here till breakfast, after which I was going to escort them back to the airport. But for the moment my attention wasn't snagged on our hosts, but on my friend who'd just gotten married.

I still hadn't went to greet them after their wedding two days prior in the back jungle. Now it was time I gave them a visit and see if they wanted anything, and how they were faring now—as a married couple.

Justin, bless my luck who gave me the best person to have my back everytime, nodded at me as a signal. He was to act as if I was in the bathroom for the time I was gone.

Weaving my way through the secret passageway I had learnt by now, I reached the secluded area where they were living. Knocking in our secret code, I waited for the door to open.

"Just a moment." Carter yelled. I heard some more noises come from inside—the scraping of wood against floor, the scuttling of footsteps as someone ran to and fro, a few muffled voices followed by the rich laughter I thought I'll never hear from Marlee again. The door latch opened with a groan, showing a shirtless Carter standing on the threshold, his hair mussed with sleep yet his face radiant.

It was evident on his face I had interrupted something.

I looked away, my cheeks flushed, while Carter stepped aside with a merry "Hey, Maxon!"

"Sorry to interrupt." My cheeks were blazing.

Carter waved his hand away. "We were anyone getting up to get ready. How are you?"

"I'm well. How are you?"

"I can stand without clutches, for now. Katherine said I'd be ready to work out by the next week." He said, delighted by the news, as we sat on the small bed by the wall.

Marlee came out, her face as red as a tomato. She was wearing one of Carter's shirt which reached her knees, its sleeves rolled up to her elbows. "Hi, Maxon." She mumbled, her cheeks blazing as bright as fire.

"Marlee, look at you!" standing up, I took her in a tight embrace, mumbling in her hair, "Looks like marriage suits you."

"Just wait till you choose her, and then I'll tell you."

My good conscience told me I should laugh with her at her teasing, but her words rattled me.

Marlee had always believed in America, and she knew how much I was taken with her. What she didn't know was how apart she and I were right now. Like two ends of a river: wanted to be together but there was always a vast stretch of differences between us keep us apart.

"About that," I said, looking at her and Carter, "I wanted to ask if you're ready to meet her?"

She sucked in a breath. "You sure?"

"The whole palace will be taken by the departure of the Italian federation and then cleaning up. Guards shifts will be quick today due to that, and even less in the princess's quarters. There's a route Agatha will show you that'll lead you up directly to that room and I'll have America there by then."

At first there was no reaction, but then she started bouncing on her toes. Excited. "Thank you. Thank you."

"Two? You'll be a little free by then for anyone to ask questions."

"Okay."

I turned to Carter. "She'll safe. You needn't worry."

He smiled. The one that showed his love for her hasn't lessened by the things they've gone through. "I trust you, Maxon. We trust you."

Nodding at him, I gave Marlee one last squeeze and went out.

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After the Italian federation had gone, father had called in me for a meeting regarding the meetings. He was sitting in his office—the place I despised the most. The place that made me realise: even if my father and the king were one and the same, they could never be one.

Stavros was sitting on his other chair, a diary in front of him as always. For a man like Stavros who remembered what happened twenty years ago with every precise detail, I always wondered the role of a diary. Because I've never seen him writing anything in it or referring it.

He smiled at me, his now old face showing the youth he'd experienced as he patted me on my shoulder. "We've received their thank you letters, and they both were very pleased by the hospitability you showered them with."

I grinned. "Thank you."

Father gave me one of his rare smile. A smile which converted the king into my Dad within a snap. "You did well, Maxon."

"Thank you, sir."

"Adolph, as the representative of Germany, had decided to expand our trade. You are the one to be given credit for that, so well done."

I smiled.

"The Italians on the other hand." He shook his head. I already knew that. Evalina D'amnicia was hard to convince, and harder to open the trade with us.

"I think I may have formed a base for friendship with Nicoletta, but don't think it's the right time to push."

Dad shook his head again. "We don't have options left to have the space to choose. New Asia is requesting the presence of Italy in their lands—just like us."

"The queen of Italy isn't ready to declare sides. She wishes to be remained neutral." Stavros reminded us.

"I'd like to go to New Asia." I declared suddenly. This was an issue looming in my mind since I had suspected something foul in the reports from our borders. The reports Flynn and Quintal had send didn't match, and Yayra also said she was suspecting something foul. The reports they'd send me the next day smelled foul. If I could manage to talk with Hrithik, the prince of New Asia, there is a chance we may come to an alternative solution that doesn't lead to war.

Nicoletta wanted to help an Illéa who could help itself. Now it was time she saw that Illéan may have been walking slowly for a time, but it wasn't crippled.

Dad shook his head. "No. It's too dangerous."

"Not going there is even more." I argued.

"The relations between the two nations aren't well."

"Then it's time we all start working on them."

"No. I won't allow it."

"I am the crowned prince of Illéa." I said, struggling to keep my voice stoic. "I can go there. And we all know they won't risk a war by harming me. If Illéa is going through a mess, New Asia is a chaos."

"And I'm the king of Illéa. Don't you dare push me, boy."

"But—"

"You ask me why I think you aren't ready: this is the reason why! You have to think properly. You can't take spontaneous decisions when it comes to you."

"Then I guess it's time you start trusting me, father. Sooner or later I have to face the threats. It's better if I do that now without the crown on my head."

"No." Finality ranged in his voice.

"There is something wrong over there. Something that is the reason why we can't resolve our issues." I reasoned. "If only I can find it, there is a high chance the whole issue will be solved with some discussions."

"Countries don't run by discussing, Maxon. I thought Stavros taught you that."

I recalled Mom's advice, as if she standing beside me whispering it back to me. You have to make him realise he is your father as well. Closing my eyes and reopening it, I pushed my shoulders back a little, flexing my back. "It was my father who taught me that running a country is nothing less than gambling. You have to take risks, make profits, and step back. Not taking risks, and not stepping back: these are the downfalls of a king." The silence that followed was maddening. "I respect you, my king, but I guess it is time I make a gamble."

He shook his head, but it was more of resignation rather than denying me. A smile of triumph dancing over his lips, even when his forehead creased with worries or his eyes shown the tension in him.

For the first time I was able to hold my head high. I'd just won an argument with the king. An achievement in itself.

Dad nodded to Stavros and stood up. "I want some time to think over it. Till then I hope you don't take any step without asking me." I nodded. "Maxon, you're dancing on a very thin line—you have to be careful about what you say and what you do. Once done, there's no turning back."

I nodded, my mind trying to understand the meaning of his words while my heart danced with excitement that for the first time Dad listened to me. Not the king but my Dad.

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Standing on the first floor, I waited for America to come out of the women's room. It was already close to two. Marlee will be coming anytime soon. I'd send a letter for America asking her presence. The only thing remaining was when she'll come.

A few minutes later I saw her stepping out of the women's room, wearing a dress as lovely as her, but her eyes carrying the tension she may be feeling right now. I wondered what I looked like because the whole arrangement had taken me on an edge.

Reaching me, she murmured a timid "So?"

Taking her arm. I started walking towards the stairs. "We have fifteen minutes. What I'm about to show you, you can't share with anyone. Do you understand?" She nodded without hesitation. "All right then."

Ascending the stairs, we reached the third floor. The guards were changing rounds so no one was here to see me bring her up which may lead to any suspicion. Taking a turn, I stopped outside the double white doors.

"Fifteen minutes." I reminded her. She didn't know what it was but agreed all the same.

Taking the key of the room that hasn't been opened since so many years out of my pocket, I unlocked the door, holding it open for her to step in before closing them. Marlee wasn't here yet.

The room was as I remembered. The massive furniture, doors and windows at every corner, walls devoid of any colour or paintings, but still warm and breezy. "This is the princess room."

Her eyes widened as she looked at me from the room and then back.

"I know it's not much to look at right now. The princess is supposed to choose the decor, so once my mother moved to the queen's suite, the room was stripped."

As there was still time before her surprise came in, I started pointing her to all the doors. Balcony. Study. Bathroom. Then the last door. "This goes to my room. Can't have the princess too far off."

She blushed.

Relishing my desire to run my fingers over her heated cheeks, I pointed towards the wardrobe as I stepped toward it and placed my hand on it. "And this? Behind this piece of furniture is the escape to the safe room. You can get to other places in the palace this way, too, but that's its main purpose." But for now, it wasn't. "This is a slight misuse, but I thought it would be worth it."

I heard the slight thud of knock on the other side of the wardrobe. Placing my hand on the hidden latch, I opened the hidden passage. The person standing in front of me made me smile. Marlee, wearing a simple shift that made work comfortable, her blond hair twisted in a tight bin over her head. "Right on time."

"I wouldn't miss it." She murmured, stepping inside.

Helping Marlee in, I felt more than heard America stepping closer. Her voice turned all throaty as she murmured in disbelief, "Marlee?"

Marlee smiled her heart warming smile. The one that made her people's favourite. The very one that showed she was still unaffected by whatever was done to her.

"What are you doing here?" America continued, looking between her and I.

Instead of answering, she ran in her arms, crying "I've missed you so much!"

As they cried and laughed and crumpled on the floor, I felt I was invading on a very private moment.

A few minutes later when they both quieted down a little, I said "Ten minutes. I'll be waiting outside." to America, and to Marlee, "You can leave the way you came."

They both nodded and gave me their word. I stepped out.

Sitting on the bench just outside my room that I could make sure no guards were here, I read my book. My mind wasn't stable—it was running in all the directions it could wander about. I didn't feel the time passing by, and soon America exited the room.

Her face was all teary, her eyes welled up and swollen, yet it was her eyes that showed how relieved she was. There was something else, too. Something I couldn't point out. Something that made me realise I couldn't read her clearly anymore.

I smiled looking up and she sat by my side, adjusting her gown, no words spoken between us for a few seconds.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I had to make sure they were safe first. My father doesn't know I did this; And until I knew it wouldn't endanger them, I had to keep it to myself. I'm hoping to arrange for you to see her more, but that will take time."

Her eyes sparkled with understanding and excitement. She now knew I wasn't unkind. It meant everything to me as she smiled timidly. Sure the gap between us was as vast as it could ever get, but with every misunderstanding cleared, with each part accepted, a wooden stick was laid down to cover that gap. It would take time, no doubt, but time was something I was ready to give her.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

A deafening silence again loomed between us, making me aware of the vast space that wasn't filled yet. Clearing my throat, I said, "I know that you are averse to doing the difficult parts of this job, but there are a lot of opportunities here. I think you could do great things." Then because it had to be said, "I can tell you see the prince in me now, but that had to come eventually if you were ever going to truly be mine."

Our eyes held together as the gravity of my words fell on our shoulders. "I know."

"I can't read you anymore." I confessed. "I used to be able to see it in the beginning when you didn't really care for me; and when things changed between us, you looked at me differently. Now there are moments when I think it's there and others when it seems like you're already gone."

She nodded.

"I'm not asking you to say you love me. I'm not asking for you to suddenly decide you want to be a princess. I just need to know if you want to be here at all."

This was what mattered the most right now. Not whether we could be together or now, but that if she was ready to accept me—all parts and pieces. If she still wanted to be a part of this Selection or not. She'd already been informed by me that I couldn't wait for her forever. Now it was time for me to know of she was still going to fight for me or not.

Her hand slid under mine, our fingers interlacing. Squeezing her hand, I welcomed the feeling of relief. "If you'll still have me, I want to stay."

Of course, I wanted to say, I still want you.

Sighing, I let the tension I felt out. "I'd like that very much."

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As it was expected of me to resume my daily routine of taking the Elites on date, I asked Elise on a ride around the palace perimeters. Thunder was getting impatient again for a nice ride. Elise was good with a horse and accompanied me. We talked, or rather I talked and she agreed with me. Soon our date was over and I left her by her room. Natalie was my next date, whom I took to the gaming room in the basement. She was feeling homesick and wanted to have some entertainment.

Kriss found us soon when we were climbing up. She wanted help from her best friend regarding a few stuff of hers. "This palace can get a lonely place if you roam alone." Kriss commented as I volunteered to escort both of them to her room.

"True," Natalie agreed, "but why roam alone?"

Kriss shrugged. "I was getting bored and wanted to read a book. Tired of the library by the first floor, I thought about looking for other libraries in the South wings."

"Who told you there is more than one library in the palace?" I asked. We've always wandered in the first level library, and as far as I knew, only that library was accessible to all. The private library was situated on the third floor that was known by the people who actually lived her. The hidden library was a whole another mystery.

Kriss looked at me with slightly wide eyes and smiled then. "You yourself told me once, Maxon, that you always loved the private library. So I just assumed."

As far as I could recall, I never told her that. That library consisted of all the maps and diaries of the current king and prince along with the other book. Hidden behind another secret door by our rooms on our floor, it was a secret not every maid or manservant knew. Even Justin didn't.

Kriss shook her head. "But I couldn't find it. I was roaming around that I may stumble by it, but then I got tired. Then I recalled that we had discussed to write letters to our parents. Ready, Natalie?"

"I hate writing." Natalie grumbled from my other side.

Kriss laughed and encouraged her to write. "I wonder if America might write something?"

"Why?"

"Nothing. Just that she was very upset when she came back in the afternoon. And she always writes to her father. Actually she was the one to give me that idea."

America was upset? But why? As far as I knew, she wanted to stay here. But then maybe not. But that wasn't what made my jaw clench. It was the face of her father when I told him my intention to marry his daughter. How easily he'd accepted me as his son. How he'd given me advice to court her daughter. What will be think of everything that had happened between his daughter and I after he left? Will he hate me? Will be accept me once again?

Both of them must have felt my mood shift as they both stopped talking. I didn't correct their wrong assumption. They can think whatever they want for all I care. Right now, I realised, there was another loose end left for me to tie.

Asking my leave, I went back in my room. I already had Shalom Singer's address. Carving words from my heart and pouring them on the white sheet, I wrote a letter to the father of love of my life. Asking his advice once again.

Respected sir,

My manners tell me that I should start by asking for your health, but this time I may have to leave my manners behind as I have come to you for your guidance.

I don't know how to start or how to say. I've never written a letter in my life, but today it seemed inevitable. I am standing on a crossroad, not knowing what I should choose and what should be left behind. So I write this to you, in hope that you guide me to the best route.

The sight you saw, Marlee's caning, was a sight I know no one can ever forget. I also understand what and how you felt and under what circumstances you all left the palace. And I apologize for the whole thing. You all became witnesses to something that should never have happened in the first place.

The act that I think must be formidable. It was the catalyst that made America realise she isn't made for this life. In front of her, I've always been me . Not just a prince or the heir, but me. And I was fine with that, until all started to crumble. Now she sees the whole me. All the bits as well she once was ready to ignore. She sees me as prince and realised she isn't ready for the role of a princess. She is balking, and I don't know how to bring her back.

I love her, sir. With all my heart, I love her. But there are times when I don't know whether I should let her be or try harder to get her back. I don't want to give her up, but I can't force her to marry me as well when she isn't ready. I know it's crossing a line with me asking you, but I don't know what else to do. I am stuck, sir, and already I've been asked to choose someone already. I don't want to be rash, but I don't want to lose my one shot either.

Amidst this all, you're the one whom I thought could give me a proper advice.

You once told me you want her to be happy. I want the same as well. And deep inside me I know I make her happy. She is just lost, just as I, with no remembrance of how to come back.

I am not asking you to explain her, but rather to guide me on what I should do. After all, she's your daughter and your greatest admirer. There's no one I trust more when it comes to her.

Please help me guide her back as well.

With my deepest sincerities,

Maxon.

Sliding the letter in a simple envelope, I put it aside so that Justin could post the message inconspicuously.

After dinner, I went for my evening stroll with Celeste which she asked for. Taking my arm, we went in the gardens. Apparently everyone saw me walking here with America and want to replace her traces. "What happened to America?" She questioned, her curiosity apparent even to me.

"Do you really want to talk about another Elite on our leisure time, my dear?" I asked with a humourless smile.

"You're right. It's just that...nothing. So, tell me, did you hear about our party?"

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"I missed you, Maxon." She murmured, squeezing my arm and as we climbed the stairs. "With everything happening at once, you hardly have time for me."

"Duties call, my dear. And as you said, with everything happening at once, it became more necessary." The Halloween, Marlee's caning, the attacks, then the guests. Everything happened at once. The whole two weeks felt like I couldn't breathe freely. They felt like an eternity.

"Yeah. You took the heaviest toll. How are you now?"

This was the most sincere question Celeste had asked me. Not because she asked, but because she meant it. Looking at her, I realised every Elite had taken a hit.

Was I doing good by them by not telling them about America? By not considering everyone else but Kriss and America as my only options? Wasn't I being unfaithful to them by still spending time with them when I already knew they held no chance?

I mulled over these things as we took our evening stroll, both of us lost in our thoughts. There were times when Celeste tried to start a conversation but I said nothing incoherent. I didn't know what to say. Was I cheating with her? This question roamed in the forefront of my mind everytime I looked at her.

Even when I rejected her advances when she tried to kiss me. Even as I kissed her hand as a goodbye.

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Mom was waiting for me in my room, sitting by my desk, reading the reports on Southern Illéa. The missing families. The punishment to the lower castes. Everything that was wrong down there.

Upon hearing me, she looked up and smiled, but I saw her teary eyes nonetheless. Even when she tried to hide them. Going to her, I kneeled in front of her. "Don't you worry about the South, okay? I won't quit on it. I promise."

Cupping my cheek, she gave me a small smile. "I know."

"Is your head aching?"

"A little. Nothing to be worried of."

"Are you sure? I can bring your medications. Or we can go to the doc."

Giving me another watery smile, she kissed my brow. "Thank you. For doing something no one has ever done."

"It's not done yet." I reminded her.

Simpering, she said, "You are a Station as well as a Schreave. Quitting isn't in you."

Kissing her hand, I rested my head in her lap. She ran her fingers through my unruly strands, combing them. "A couple days ago, I saw Agatha. She was coming from the back forest." My whole body froze.

"Agatha Sweetings? So?"

She gave me a knowing smile, shaking her head. "Be careful, Maxon. Just because you did it doesn't mean Clarkson won't catch it. Okay?"

"What are you talking about?"

She shook her head, but her eyes told me everything. If anyone reported anything notorious to the king, we all were done. Even if I was able to secure Marlee in the palace, my guard shouldn't be lowered in any circumstances. Something that almost happened on Wednesday.

"Hey." We both turned as Justin came in, carrying another load of papers for me. "Miss me?"

"Of course not." I muttered. He'd went out to post my letter, but the spark in his eyes told me something else.

Mom saw it as well. "Nothing, Justin. Just giving him advice, something that you didn't take from me, considering everything..."

He groaned and dumped the papers on my desk. "Not you, too, Your Majesty."

She gave him a look I was happy I wasn't getting. "I haven't met her, yet. I wouldn't have even known it if it weren't for your parcel that accidentally reached my hands."

"What parcel?" I looked between them.

Not taking her eyes off him, she answered me. "He contacted some local jeweller because he couldn't ask of me for a ring. I wouldn't have even known that if June hadn't accidentally gave his parcel to me, with the bill I might add." She glared at him. "You gave up your one year salary for a ring when I'd already told you that was something I'd decide for my son." Her voice cracked in the end. "I wasn't even informed until today that you're engaged—because apparently you don't consider me important enough to tell me this or introduce me to your fiancée."

"What?" I turned to him. "I thought you'd go to her with Sharon Wednesday evening itself. And I think I'd promised you I'll be gifting you that ring."

He didn't even look at me. "Something important came up so I couldn't. I was going to but then I couldn't. And yesterday you had a massive headache."

"So?"

"So, I didn't want to trouble you."

"Trouble! I'll show you what real trouble means, boy. Just come to me next time for anything."

Justin flinched. My friend who never knew anything but laugher and smiles, who'd seen everything in his child years to not affect him anymore, cringed at the threat.

He took a deep breath and walked around the desk, kneeling behind her. His arms came around her as he put his chin on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you but then I thought you were already going through many things. I didn't want you to worry about me as well."

Patting her cheek, my Mom gave another of her watery smile. "I don't know whether to slap you for thinking such things or scold you."

"Don't slap me, please."

She laughed. A sigh escaped her as she turned slightly to look at him. "Justin, you are as much a son to me as much Maxon is. Just because I didn't bear you doesn't make me any less mother, okay? You can always come to me whenever you want to, no questions asked. Especially when something big like this happens."

Justin nodded, tears gathering in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, sweetheart."

Justin had lost his parents when he was six years old in a road accident during a rainy day. Since then he'd lived here with his grandfather who was a gardener. We became close friends in no time, and he became Mom's second son sooner. When he lost his grandfather the next year by a heart attack, she'd taken him under her care.

She had held him when he suffered from a nightmare, or when he couldn't sleep when it was raining. She'd read him stories along with me at night-time, cared for him when he was ill. He wasn't my brother by words, but because of Mom's actions. My Mom wasn't just my Mom anymore, and for the first time in years I'd stopped crying for siblings. Mom may have given born to only one son, but she'd grown two men.

Of course Dad wasn't happy by it, which became the catalyst between their differences when I was thirteen. That was why he'd tried to seek comfort elsewhere. When Justin came to know that, he swore he'd never call Mom aunt, something Mom urged him to. Since then he'd called her Your Majesty, and an almost tyrant for the king.

"You have already done enough for me. For the first time I felt I could start something of my own. Without any obligations—not that I consider you any obligation." He added quickly. "But for the first time, I wanted to do something of my own. Not with you by my side to help me regain sanity, not with a ring Maxon promised to buy for me. But something that was completely by me. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I won't forgive you easily—unless your fiancée can convince me otherwise."

Sharon had always been his secret. Only I'd met her, that too accidentally. Mom knew about her but haven't seen her personally.

Turning his head, he kissed her temple. "I want you to officially meet her."

"I want that as well."

"You know I love you."

"I wish you'd stop acting otherwise when it matters the most."

A tear slipped out of his eye. My best friend was crying—something I'd never seen in my whole life. "I wanted you by my side that day."

"You should've told me. I would've been proud to stand by you."

"I know I don't say it enough, but I love you."

"I know that. That is the only reason I tolerate you. Both of you."

She held both of us tightly, and we held onto her with all our strength. Minutes slipped by, still no one of moved. When June cane to call Mom, she asked her to rest for the night, and sat with us on my bed—Justin with his head on her lap as he told her everything about his proposal and her girl, and I with my hand over her shoulder, she leaning into me, as we listened to his stories.

It was past eleven when she finally went out of my room, Justin escorting her to her room and then out of the palace, on the queen's order, to her fiancée's.

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Ten in the morning the next day showed me on my desk, reviewing the papers, when Charles, Dad's butler, barged in after a knock. "Your Highness, His Majesty is asking for your presence."

"Is something wrong?"

He shook his head, but his eyes told me something wasn't right.

Stepping in Dad's study, I quickly studied him. He was fuming, that was for sure, but he was calm. Like before the storm. "You called me?"

"You wanted to visit New Asia? Your wish had been granted."

"Which means?"

"We're going to New Asia. Pack your luggage. We go in half hour. And do not say anything to Amberly till I tell you to."

The skin at the back of my back stood. "What happened?"

"War threats." Was his only answer.

Justin and I packed our luggage, whispering all the reasons for this sudden departure. But one thing was sure—it was something serious. Which meant every minute we delay was an opportunity lost.

We met father in the hallway. Justin went ahead to ask permission to enter in the women's room at my nod as I turned to my father. "Is there anything I should be warned about?"

"No. Just that every minute is precious. And that the whole flight will be dangerous. Are you ready for this experience?"

No. "Yes."

He nodded and we both went in the women's room at Mom's approval. There, all the ladies were standing in a line, all of them worried. They were about to curtsy but Dad stopped them. "Dear ladies, we are sorry to intrude, but we have urgent news."

"I'm afraid we've had a development with the war in New Asia." I continued. "The situation is so dire that Father and I are leaving this very moment to see if we can do any good."

"What's wrong?" Mom asked, a hand clutching her chest.

"It's nothing to worry about, my love." I had no idea if Dad truly believed it or was just trying to assure Mom.

I stepped to her. "Mom."

"Don't worry about me, okay? Just worry about you two. Three." She corrected when she saw the glimpse of Justin standing at the gate. "And contact me as soon as possible. No matter what. And be careful." Before I could say anything, she kissed my forehead in farewell.

She'd so quickly adorned the queen's face and buried everything else inside her. It was marvellous as well as frightening.

Stepping closer still, I gave her a tight hug, and whispered in her ear, "Take care of my mother and my Elites for me.", and stepped away.

Walking to the Elites who were standing in s single line, I said my goodbyes to them personally. To Natalie, it was a simple, "Goodbye, Natalie." To which she answered with a "Take care, Maxon." Moving forward, I attended Celeste, who wrapped her arms around me and held me tightly, shedding a few fake tears. Distancing myself from her was a hard task. When done, she kissed me on my lips, not caring we were surrounded by almost everyone. Turning, so that she didn't catch me, I rubbed my lips with the back of my hand, erasing her mark. Reaching Elise, I gave her a few suggestions on the Asians being easy on us. She nodded, clearly stating this was our relationship—not one based on love, but on political strategies.

Turning to Kriss, I saw the first real emotion on my Elites' face. She immediately laced her hand her mine, not caring that it was clear now she felt deeply for me. She loved me.

"Will you be in danger?"

"I don't know. During our last trip to New Asia, the situation wasn't nearly so tense. I can't be sure this time." My last trip had been nearly two years back, father's a half year.

She looked up at ceiling, sighing, and I understood her, clearly, she was trying not to she'd tears. When her eyes weren't on me, I felt blue eyes on me and turned to my left to see America. She quickly averted them.

"Please be careful." Kriss said, her voice lacing with desperation as a tear rolled down her cheek. This was a side of Kriss I've never seen. For once I was seeing her vulnerable.

Giving her a mock salute, I assured her with "Of course, my dear." Then, stepping closer to her, I whispered in her ear, "Please try to keep my mother entertained. She worries." Giving her a purpose was the only way I could see to distract her. I knew I was right in requesting her as she started crying in the earnest in her hands as soon as I stepped away from her.

She was already deeply in love with me, when I had given her nothing but a false hope created out of desperation to fill a void America had created. My hands twitched, to tell her to not cry and explain her everything that had happened between us, but I stopped myself.

I cared for her and that was it. I didn't try to give air to an already blazing fire.

Stepping to my left, I stood in front of America, my throat clogged with all the things unsaid between us s well as all the things I wanted her to know. But it wasn't neither the time nor place. Looking into her eyes, I realised I wanted to carry the image of a laughing America with me, not a crying one. So, I teased her. "Try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone, all right?"

She nodded in mock sincerity, swearing with her right hand thrust out, "I promise to be on my best behaviour."

I chuckled, capturing the image when her lips curved up in a smile.

"Excellent. One less thing to worry about."

"What about us? Should we worry?"

No, I thought, shaking my head. "We should be able to smooth over whatever's going on. Father can be very diplomatic and—"

"You are such an idiot sometimes." She grumbled. I don't understand. "I mean about you. Should we worry about you?"

I could say no and tease again, but the thought of lying to her, even if for her own benefit... "Flying in and flying out. If we can make it to the ground..." I left the remaining unsaid. There were so many uncertainties that could come in our way.

I swallowed, feared. My last visit wasn't this tensed. I had no idea what we were getting into, when we will be back. In what condition...

Clearing my throat, I looked at her once again. I couldn't go with so many things unsaid. I wanted her to know. My love for her. That I wasn't angry with her. That she still held my heart in her callused hands. "America, before I go..." her blue orbs turned into oceans as her eyes watered up. "I need you to know that everything—"

"Maxon!" Father crowed, impatient. Looking at him I knew my time was over. There would be no time to say the thoughts that needed to be voiced.

My instinct told me to give her the goodbye she deserved. A tender kiss full of promises on her forehead.

"Goodbye, America." Not taking my eyes off her, I took her hand and kissed it with the softest touch. Not unlike the kiss I planted on Kriss's cheek or the ones on the others' knuckles, or the one I wanted to give her. It was a touch full of remembrances—all the moments shared with her and the ones I'd wished she was in. A kiss full of promises.

A promise made by me to her that when I will be back, we will be together once again.