In the next couple days, Officer Kent German contacted me. We'd been in constant touch via phone the whole time, but today he'd called and said the news was way more deadly than the constant nothings he'd been selling me since the last five days. He'd told me that this information was very much secretive that he wouldn't even trust his shadow. So he'd written me a letter, which Justin had went to collect it. Thanks to Kent, he had the wit to form a last minute plan and had disguised as a vendor selling ladies purse. Justin had bought a purse for Sharon which contained the letter balled with all the other papers inside it to hold it steady.

In the late evening, sitting on my desk, both Justin and I read the letter.

In the outskirts of Angeles and on the shores, more movements have been recorded than the last week. Upon digging and asking for information, I found out that export from Southern Illéa had been increasing since the last week. At first I thought it was nothing, after all October–November is the time in South for harvesting, so I thought it must be grains, but I was very much wrong. They were smuggling weaponries. Actually, it's sort of ironical, they using Angeles, the capital of Illéa, as their base camp.

Now, still it felt as if I was missing something freaking important thing, so I dug in more, and this is what I found out. The weapons that were being transported were latest technologies. Latest technologies. Something that were supposed to be exported to Germany. Now, it again felt incomplete, so I used some help from my friends in the palace—do not worry, they just know that something fishy is happening; not the whole truth, just the tip—and together we found out that someone had tampered with the exporting documents. Numbers were altered. Nobody would think why a couple weapons were missing from every package instead of receiving a dozen of dozen guns each. They may consider it as some communication or transporting glitch and let it go.

Now, here comes the major twist.

I was wondering that if everything is happening in Angeles, then the streets here should be filled with rebels filth, but as it turns out, I was maddeningly wrong. The rebels are working smartly. They are first targeting the whole Illéa before they launch an attack on its capital—weaken it completely before you bring it to its knees. I know this because I'd disguised myself as a Southern rebel who had just lost his whole family due to lack of medical facilities. They all welcomed me in wholeheartedly.

They all didn't know what was actually happening. As a rule of discretion, only the high authorities in here actually know what will exactly be happening. The others are merely a pawn, going mindlessly just for revenge.

Yes. All the Southern rebels are those who'd lost someone or their whole family because they couldn't save their loved ones, due to medical facilities, lack of roads, food or shelter. Or simply because they hate the Royal family and the whole hierarchy.

It's disgusting, if you hear me. You've done so many good things, but their anger is so huge, they're ready to channel it to bring destruction to the ones who have everything they want.

Their moral is simple: steal everything from them just like everything was stolen from us. Bring the Royal family to their knees so they could rule it properly.

I have to go now. Asterin, as you'd suggested, is crying.

But there's one thing that I want to ask you, even though I know you've been generous with me before so I shouldn't push you. But...

After witnessing the horror last few days, I know it's much to ask, but I was wondering if I could take another week off. The lie that I'd lost everything feels like a jinx, as if what I'd said could come true anytime.

Sorry. Thank you.

I hope that everything I've seen comes useful to you.

K. F. G.

"All of this is bullshit!" Justin growled, who had heard each word Kent bad written.

I groaned, helplessly. "I know. It's all craziness."

"We should contact the Northern rebels. They'd already warned us against the same thing." He suggested, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes. You're right. They'd already warned us." I nodded, but still I felt as if something was missing. A sort of missing piece of a puzzle. Rolling the letter in a ball, I threw it in the fire-lit hearth where we both saw it crumbling to ashes.

"Have you ever thought why are the Northern rebels trying to help us?" I thought allowed, contemplating over things with a different angle. "They have numbers, they have weapons, they have knowledge of what we have and don't. Whenever they have attacked on us, they were looking for something. Something they want so desperately that they all are ready to help me. But on what price?" I shook my head, trying to find the catch here. "I don't know them, but surely they won't help us with no cost. They want something. A thing which may change almost everything for them, maybe even for us."

"You're trying to be paranoid." Justin said, no humour in his voice. "Do you really think they would've asked you for your help in exchange of something? I don't think so."

"Oh, come on Justin!" I groaned. "You were the only one who always told me how nothing comes without a cost."

"Maybe I was wrong." He shrugged, his face unreadable.

"Now you're being paranoid. You're asking me to trust some unknown person just because they agreed to help me overcome the problem of the rebels."

He glared at me as if I'd grown two heads. I felt chills, not that I'd ever tell him that. Justin could be intimidating when he wants to be. "You just believed some person whom you've only seen while walking over someone who'd always given you crazy information because they really tried to help us."

"Stop being crazy, Justin! Are you hearing yourself?" I snapped. Really, now I was getting irritated. Why was he being so weird and pressing me to address the rebels was nagging in my mind, creating a headache. "Okay. Let's say for argument's sake that we do believe them, but what are the chances that they're right?"

"Higher than trying to do it ourselves, for sure." He muttered.

My temper was barely being controlled by a withering leash. "You're talking as if I'm trying to deny your help, Justin. It's not that I don't want to trust them, just that I want to be thorough. We won't be telling the king if we go through this. If anything goes wrong, anything, we'd lose everything. Do you get it? Everything."

He placed his hand on mine, his steely eyes fixed on me. "Exactly, Maxon. We've tried everything and still we always come with no results. The chances of getting the Northern rebels on our side so they may help us are very high." I was still thinking about it, when he drew the ace out of his deck to overcome my every response. "Or are you trying to gamble your way out alone just to impress the king?"

I glared at him, snatching my hand back from under his. Really, he could be s pain in the ads when he wanted to be. "You're really persistent, aren't you?"

"Persistence is necessary, Maxon. This is what would help us. Think this about as my gut feeling."

"And if you're wrong?" I pushed. "Then what, Justin? We need a backup plan in case everything blows up."

"So all we need is to come up with a backup plan. Good. Any ideas?" Sarcasm dripped heavily from his mouth.

"You're not helping." I pointed out.

His smile was cruel. "Because I do have one."

I arched my brow.

His smile was everything devilish. "All we need to do is make sure they come to meet us in our ground. We'll have backup preplanned. Think about it as a trap. If they don't, then we'll know if we can trust them or not. But, in case they step out of line, we call in the backup. It is a high chance the person we'll be meeting will be someone with authority. We capture him. Get the information. Get the hell out and then tell the king about our smartness. Even if it goes to hell, at least the king will see you as a smart person to capture one of the most sneaky mind of our times."

"You really are a devil."

"I haven't earned that name just for fun, Your Highness. You forgot I used to be master of pranks."

How could I ever forget that. It was another reason why my friendship with him was considered formidable by the king. "And you've still got the charm."

He laughed. "Now, what's the fun if I lose it."

He winked as he stood up. "So? Are we in?"

"We'll wait for tomorrow noon till we plan a perfect response and trap." I mused. "We had asked them for a week and I am willing to use it fully before we have to give them a reply."

"Tomorrow noon."

"Tomorrow noon." I confirmed.

.

.

.

That night we lost ourselves in trying to find a loophole in our plan, and in our backup plan. Justin was a master when it came to planning. We both planned our perfect, loophole–less plan and he analysed it in every way possible, functionally. We planned everything. From our meeting place to the hours. I checked it by the palace schedule as we thought over it more thoroughly. In the predawn hours, near the hospital wing of our palace where there were usually less guards patrolling. Hell, we'd even chosen the guards we'll have for lookout, both for our meeting and the backup. By the time we were finished, it was one in the morning.

When I yawned, he told me to get some rest. Trusting him, I left him with all the issues and went for the bed. Tomorrow will be an important day for all the Elites and me—the presentation and elimination that'll follow it.

I yawned again.

My eyes followed to my coat hanging on the back of my chair, just as I'd done the rest of the week. The ring and bracelet seemed to be calling me even from this distance. I nodded to myself, the vow I'd made to myself still very much ignited.

Tomorrow, I was going to be either this side or that.

America had refused to even look at me the whole week. She never came to the lunch, or at dinners, and even then she refused to look at me. I'd decided to give her time, but tomorrow, before the Report, I'll talk to her. She'd go on the stage and rock it. Not my world, but the presentation. But before she do it, I wanted to give her her things. It is time we get back on track and leave out past behind.

America will become the princess. And she'll become my wife.

The outcome was decided. And I was going to do everything, break every rule if I must, to make sure that'll happen.

.

.

.

What I didn't know what that everything wouldn't be that easy.

While Justin and I had decided that it was time for us to write a letter back to the Northern rebels, Charles came in. "His majesty have asked for your presence, Your Highness, in Her Majesty's room. It's urgent."

As Charles was also there, I asked Justin to accompany me. He'd frowned at the urgency, but walk with me he did.

Father was seated by Mom, holding her close. She had her head buried in her chest, her eyes red-rimmed. And Father was consoling her. None of it made any sense. I looked nervously at my side. June was standing in the corner of the room, her eyes unfocused. Charles was standing behind Father, his face grim. Catching Justin's gaze, I asked him with my eyes what happen? Any idea?

As a reply, he just shrugged, his eyes focused on Mom.

I cleared my throat. "You called, sir?"

His eyes shifted to me. For the first time I could see true fear in his eyes—it was there, buries beneath all the other emotions be was struggling with—along with sadness, anger, uncontrollable rage pointed at someone. The way he held mother, protectively, as if shielding her from something invisible that was looming over our head.

"Yes. There's a report you need to know."

I was anticipating many things, like his decision to absolve the Selection, his anger towards me or any of the Elites—hell I'd even anticipated his decision to have America out this instant—but not what he said next. "Natalie's sister was kidnapped this morning by the Southern rebels."

"What?" I yelled. This was...

This couldn't happen. It was just way too bizarre. The Southern rebels couldn't be this heartless.

But maybe...maybe the information was wrong. It was a long shot, but... "Are you sure?"

He nodded, and Mom started shaking with silent sobs again. He ran his hand through her hair, knowing how hard she was trying to keep the tears in, knowing that the queen needs to be strong no matter what the information she gets. My eyes were on my parents while Charles said, filling us in, "We weren't sure, but then they found her body torn into pieces outside their house. A letter placed beside her. It read, " You didn't listen to us. Now, the others will suffer."

I was shaking my head hard. I've met Natalie's sister, Lacey. She was such a lively girl, always looking for more. Natalie always used to say she isn't made for this small world for us. Illéa is too small for her. It's like she is contained here rather than living. Her mind works in ways I can't think. Now that I'm a Three, thanks to you, I think now I may prove myself a better elder sister by helping her out.

"No."

But even as I said that, I wasn't that shocked. I knew something was up. Kent German had warned me about this. The Southern rebels were gathering arms for their revolution. The Northern rebels had warned me about them. It was on me.

All of these.

Only if I'd had perceived their warning and acted upon it soon.

Only if I had taken an action.

Only if I'd taken their helping hand.

A hand landed on my shoulder, grounding me to the present, helping me not dwell in grief and guilt which was surely trying to envelope me. Justin turned to Charles, asking him a few questions, trying to gather as much information as possible. While he was busy, I sat beside Mom and held on to her tightly. Her hand found mine, lacing with mine tightly just like her other hand which was gripping Father's.

I hadn't known a couple months back that she had gone through a few miscarriages. I never knew about her past except for what she told me. But now I knew better. Now I knew what this turn of events will do to her. Then, she'd lost many children whose face she didn't even get to see; now, she'd known Natalie and her sister. She knew the loss.

Clearing my throat as it was all clogged up, I asked to no one in particular, "What about Natalie? Has she been informed?"

It was Father who shook his head, replying, "No. We thought it best not to tell her now. After the presentation."

"Is it still necessary?" I asked, incredulous. To keep such a news from her... "After all this?"

He gave me a stern look as if it was me who'd lost his mind. "Of course, Maxon." It was a little consolidation that his voice was equally grave. "Till now we have remained silent, just because they weren't being too volatile. But now they've crossed a line. To target an innocent just to prove their point. To target an Elite's family just to stop the Selection." He shook his head again, anger in his arctic-blue eyes. "No. We won't stop. Not until you choose the future queen of Illéa."

"But—"

"He's right, dumpling." Mom's shaky voice stopped me from my protests. "They've crossed a line this time . To give them the satisfaction of ending the Selection on their will will be our defeat. We can't have that." She shook her head, closing her eyes. Her face was lack of expression but I could read the worry in her eyes. She wasn't showing but she was deeply shaken. Terrified for us as well. "What they did to Lacey..." her voice broke, but she kept her shoulders back and her chin up, her eyes still shining with the tears she was resolved to not let fall, the epitome of a perfect queen and a strong woman. "The Selection can't end now. They want our legacy to end, but they don't know whom they're facing. We will— you will—select your wife and the future queen. For long they have tried to test our limits, not now. Now we'll answer back just as they know, but like the Schreaves."

I nodded and Father kissed her head. "Prepare for today's presentation. We have work to do."

Charles nodded and left, but Justin stayed by. His met my eyes and nodded, though I could clearly see the debate in his eyes. I knew be thought that it wasn't a good option, but he also knew I thought that it was the best and for the best. Our internal debate remained only for a moment before Justin nodded more calmly, his jaw clenched, just as mine.

We both knew it was a risk we were choosing, but just as that we also knew it was the right thing to do.

Justin cleared his throat. Father snapped his eyes to him, but his eyes were only for the queen—my Mom. Looking at her with a calmed expression, he told everyone to clear the room but us. "We have updates about the Southern rebels." Before he could be inquired, he told them about the letter we received. "I'll fetch it." He announced, exiting the room.

"Can you please elaborate!" Father snapped. His temper was getting the best of him. Only Mom's hand on his arm was stopping him from pacing all over the room.

"I got a tip from a... reliable source that the Southern rebels were creating a master plan." I told them, hoping half-truths will be enough—for now. "To be sure I sent one of our best soldier to get as much information as he could gather. We only received everything he could find yesterday evening."

"When were you planning to tell me all these?" His eyes flared. In that moment he wasn't my Father but the king of Illéa, impeccably ruthless and impossibly unkind when it comes to the enemies.

"Today." I lied. I hadn't it in my greatest conscience to include him in knowing he would be against getting help from another set of rebels. "After we confirmed the news." I swallowed, seeing Natalie's sister's face in front of my eyes, her wide smile and curious eyes, her intellect and the wanting of more. To see the whole world. "But now we don't have to. This is the proof that what I got is right."

Justin barged in, breathless, as he handed the letter to my father. From the corner of my eye I could see that it was the copy we had made because we didn't want the actual letter to fall in anyone's hand. A few information was juggled, like the actual details and a few inconsequential ones that no one should know or point at because it rounded up to me. It was Justin's idea to have a duplicate if we wanted others to think that the source was a reliable one.

Nodding at him, I turned to my parents who were busy reading the letter. Once finished, Father sat back with his shoulders slumped. His eyes drooped as he let out a big exhale. "This is just as bad as I imagined." he stated, his eyes closed. I could see that his hand searched till it found Mom's hand and clasped if tightly.

At that moment, without any thought of why or how, I longed for America to be by my side and clasp her hand just as tightly, wanting some support to fight the hopelessness that I was feeling now. In my mind, she would've held my hand tightly as whispered some soothing words just for my ears, telling me that everything will be alright.

Except it wasn't America's hand holding mine. It was the queen, who held it tightly, grounding both the king and the prince, the most important men in here and the most important men of her life, as she knew how close we were to losing our shit.

"What should we do now?"

The king sighed. "For now, we have to make sure the news doesn't leak. I'll talk to Gavril. Everything else will happen just as it was supposed to be. There will be only one change. The palace, from now on, is on instant curfew." For the first time he turned to Justin and looked directly in his eyes. Steely blue eyes met determined grey ones. Justin gulped but kept his shoulders straight and chin up. "Alert every soldier of ours to be extra attentive. I want every record of who goes out or who comes in. Block every entry and exit. No one is supposed to wander around anymore—not the staff, not the Elites and none of us either." Justin nodded. Satisfied, he turned to me. "We'll break the news to Natalie after the presentation. Till then try to keep everything calm and steady. Also, from now on I don't want you anywhere out. Not on the roof, not in the garden, not in the stables. Keep your dates with the Elites in the limited area where soldiers could keep a good eye on the surrounding and readily accessible. Everything else can wait. Got it?"

I nodded, even if I knew he was taking it a bit extreme. Although I knew that he was right and that his every action was justified, it didn't help but feel a little left out.

He kissed Mom on her forehead and told her a few things which I didn't hear out of privacy. It was rare when he showered his love on her. I longed to see that secret smile of hers whenever it happened. Of all the people I knew, she deserves all the happiness I could think of. For me, there wasn't any other woman I know who was more devoted to her family than her.

The king put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it once. "You did a good thing, Maxon, trying to get in the deep."

My answering smile was a big as it could get, despite the news we'd just shared. It was rare Father wasn't angry on me, and next to never when he was actually impressed by me. "Thank you."

He nodded, a rare hint of smile in his eyes that I get to see next to never.

Once we were alone, Justin went out as well, to pass on all the messages that the king wanted him to do, only after he promised Mom everything will be alright and he'll take care of him as well Though, before going out he mouthed "Reply to the Northern rebels?" I nodded at that and mouthed back that I'll be there in a minute.

Sitting beside Mom, I took her hand in mine and pulled her into me. She buried herself in my chest and squeezed me back, her eyes finally allowing the tears to leak. "I know it's nothing—"

"It's not nothing, Mom." I soothed, running my hands through her hair that was let down for today.

"—but I couldn't. I just couldn't." I put my cheek on her head and felt her holding me closer. "What if...it could've been Adele's family suffering, or...or you." Her voice broke.

"Mom! It's nothing. We'll be extra careful, our security is going to be very tight, and no one will harm anyone else."

"Promise me you'll not roam out in the palace. You'll do as your Father says, no matter what."

"Mom."

"No." She shook her head, her eyes redrimmed, and cpped my cheek with her palm, holding me close just like I did whenever I was upset or afraid. "You're my whole life, Maxon. You and your Dad, both. I'd rather it harms me than see any of you in pain. So please, for my sake, ple—"

"I promise." I murmured, interrupting her. If that would give her peace, than anything. For her.

She kissed my cheek. "Thank you. I know I'm being a little tad more protective and paranoid—"

"You have all the right to be those things, Mom. You're the queen."

She chuckled and kissed my forehead. "Thank you."

"You never have to thank me for anything." I vowed. She smiled. I always thought she was the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Now, with her eloquent smile, she was exquisite.

She patted my hand. "So, I was wondering if you're going to tell me about something..."

"What?"

She gave me just a raised brow as a reply.

"Oh." She was asking about my status with America. I sighed. "It I'd complicated, Mom."

She gave me another of her secret smile. "It's love, dumpling. Of course it is complicated. That doesn't mean you just let it be. You have to work on how to un-complicate things."

"She isn't ready to talk to me."

"Then let your love worry about your love if you think you've done everything."

The question hung in the air.

Have I done everything I could do? Yes . I believed I did. I knew it. Was there anything I could do now? The answer was simple. No. I have told her many times I'd choose her only if she choose me as well. It was she who wasn't trying to take things ahead. Did it mean I have to let go of her? Unfortunately, the answer to that was Yes. If she didn't want to be here than what was the point of forcing her to be here. If she isn't ready to listen to me, to question me things she wants to know about; if she isn't ready to communicate, then why should I always be the one bending.

The answer was simple: because I love her. My heart whispered.

My mind shouted: You can't let her have her way all the time. She has to bend as well. You're the Prince, and you have many other important things to do as well.

As if a huge war was raging between my mind and heart, I couldn't decide what I should do. I knew what I have to do. Eliminate one. As of circumstances, if should be Natalie. But if America truly wants to go...

I'll talk to her one last time. I decided. Just one more time. That's that. It's either this way or that from then, but I have to have that last chance.

Mom, as if she could hear every thought that entered my head, pursed her lips. "Whatever you decide, sweetheart, remember I'm with you."

I kissed her forehead as I stood up. "I know."

"Stay safe, sweetheart. I can't afford to lose you."

I gave her a big smile. "You won't. I ain't leaving your side anytime soon."

"Me neither."

"I'll see you at the Report. I have some work to attend."

She nodded, giving me another of her grin that showed why Illéa loved her.

That day, before we could get ready for the Report, Justin and I sat together to do what we'd planned before we received the bad news—of Lacey's death. Now that there was nothing we can do, we sat together to write the letter that was overdue.

After many tries, the final letter was composed, though it confused me a little that Justin didn't help me anything in it. His exact words were, The leader, whoever it may be, wants to hear from you." He'd shrugged as if that explained everything.

After many tries, the final draft was finally ready.

I have no idea who you are or what you want; all I know is that by some means or another, you're trying to help me.

I won't be lying to you. I have many suspicions, but the other alternative is far more dangerous: to ignore you and your help and face it—whatever it is—alone. That is something I'm trying to avoid.

The Southern rebels have already harmed many people, my people, including the family of Elites, as you're aware—I think you are. I won't let them do it anymore. They've done something that is unimaginable, but this time we will be alerted.

I have no idea what help you will need of us, of me, but if there is something that I can help you of, I will—hoping that it is something reasonable and accessible to me. The only thing I demand of you in front of that is you stop your attacks and stop with whatever you're trying to find. This is a little extra push, but you will have to compensate as well if we're to trust you.

You've asked for our trust, and as insane as if may sound, I'm agreeing to trust you, but as our relationship—for the lack of any other better word—has been precarious till now, it has to be conditional.

There is still a history long of attacks and distrust between us. To dispel it, I ask you to meet me personally. After all the one sided conversation we've had, I would like to talk to you face to face. Then, and only then, I'd be able to decide if I've placed my trust in the right person.

If you agree to meet us, It'll be in the morning in the predawn hours, in the southern part of the palace near the hospital zone. Date and time you decide, but the setting won't be changed.

Minimum visitors; No violence; A proper talk; The whole truth; and no more harmful secrets.

These are the primary things I wish to accomplish on our first meeting, so we can decide the future of our acquaintance.

Waiting for your answer.

I must say, after everything that have been said, or rather written between us, I'm eager to meet you— whoever you are.

From the Prince to the Northern Rebels.

Maxon.

"You sure you'll be able to have it in the proper hands?" I asked Justin as I pushed the letter in a golden envelope and stamped my royal seal on it.

He took the envelope from my hands, waving it as if it was a regular piece of paper and nothing else. "They themselves told us how to contact you. I'm sure it'll be easy–peasy. Now, stop worrying about this and concentrate on today. It's a big day. Make sure everything goes as planned."

"Easy to say, Justin." I muttered, looking out. It had been just an hour since I received the news of Lacey's death, but I could already feel everything that'll be brought to surface of all the Elites when the news will be disclosed. I had no Idea how I will talk to Natalie. How I'll tell her about her sister's death, whom she loved more than her life.

Will she ever be able to forgive me?

This question nagged me till it was time to go live on today's Report.

And even then.