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.

27. The Presentation

"I don't know, Maxon! It's all...this project means so much to me, and now..." Kriss gave out an exhausted sigh as she threw her hands up in the air.

I was sitting in Kriss's room because I wanted to be elsewhere but America was still ignoring me. I'd went to her room to only have her maids answer, telling me that she was not in the room but somewhere else for whatever she was preparing for the presentation. I hadn't been shocked or disappointed to hear that—I knew she was trying to avoid me at every cost—but dejected, sure I was. I'd been waiting to talk to her, even if for a minute.

So, dejected, I'd come to Kriss's room. Unlike other times, she was very busy overthinking everything that I sat on her bed, looking at her pacing in her room.

"Relax, Kriss." I told her, amused by all her nerves. She always appeared so confident, it was hard to imagine someone like her letting her nerves get the best of her. "You know it as well that you are all prepared, so stop freaking out over nothing."

"It's easy for you to say, your Magnanimous Highness!" I chuckled as she threw another set of words at me. She'd been giving me so many names of had almost stopped being amusing. "But for me, nah! I can't do this! What if I...forget it!" She shook her head violently. "You know what, I'll be going up the stage, face the camera, know that almost every person in the country is going to listen to me, and then I'll pass out. Yup. That is just what is gonna happen."

I gave her a simpering smile. "That's not going to happen and we both know it. Can you stop exaggerating it—"

"Exaggerating! Seriously, Maxon!" She squeaked, finally stopping her nervous pacing. "I've never been in the spotlight. I've always been the backstage person who knows how to bring someone in the focus, not how to live the focus. You can expect Miss. Perfect to do it in her perfect way but not me! I'm sure even America will be doing a great job than me, and I'll be in the hospital room, laid out on a bed while I'll be clapping for her!"

I arched a brow. "Miss Perfect?"

She waved her hand as if it's nothing. "You know, our darling Celeste."

She gave me a too quick smile, already resuming her pacing as she recited everything that she's been preparing for the last two weeks. There were too many memories buried within that single statement that it took me a minute to response. Darling. Celeste.

"I thought she knew she wasn't a darling." It was someone else. Someone who held my heart in her delicate yet callused hands.

"She'll be the country's darling after tonight."

"Kriss!" Standing up, I blocked her path that she was forced to look up at me. Cupping her cheeks, I made sure I had her sole attention. "Sweetheart, you'll do just fine. Greater than fine. I'm saying it not to give you some confidence, which, you believe me, you don't need any. I'm saying it because I know what this project means to you. You've been working on it since you were barely eleven. I know you'll do great. Right?"

She leaned into me, burying her face in my coat. "I wish I had that confidence in myself what you have in me."

"You'll do great, Kriss. You know what, let's make a deal. If you do fine and everybody likes your project, which I know they will, then you'll invite me to breakfast tomorrow morning at whatever place you want it to be. If you don't, which, again, I have no doubt won't happen, we'll have no dates for the next two weeks."

"Don't you think that's a bit stretching it out."

"Anything to take your mind out of your building paranoia."

She laughed, shaking her bed. Grabbing my hand, she walked to the bed and sat on the edge. I sat as well, sideways so I could get a good look at her. "Okay. Tell me anything top of your head."

There was too much going on in my head, that was one of the reason I was here—to distract myself. Deflecting it, I asked, "Why are you so worried about?"

She chuckled, lacing her hand with mine. "I sort of know that you've been trying your best to work on the education field, and so is the queen herself. Knowing what this topic means to you, I don't want to mess it up, not if even after I'm eliminated there's a chance my ideas will be considered."

"If that's what got you all panicked, then there's nothing to be worried about. You'll rock, and I'm saying it because I've seen what you've done. Okay? Now, try to take a rest and relax. You'll need it."

As I stood up, I felt a tug on my hand. Looking behind, I saw Kriss holding my hand tightly in her. "Tomorrow breakfast in my room."

I gave her my best smile. "As you say, my dear." With a kiss on her hand.

She saw me to her gate, where she kissed my cheek in farewell. Giving her another kiss on her hand, I exited her room.

And faced Natalie.

Just like everyday, she was wearing a big smile on her face, her blond hair done in a curls to suit her forest-green gown. Her hands were full with a few accessories and her feet bare. Seeing me, she hurried in a curtsy and lost her balance. All the things from her hands fell down. Laughing, she cursed herself and bent to pick everything up and I helped her. While I helped her, I couldn't help but look at her.

There was a certain aura of her that always created positive vibes. Whoever crossed her path couldn't help but be happy and glad to meet her. She was always happy and forever cheerful. She would never have been a good queen, but she had always been a good friend.

Learning about her li'l sister's death would be slaying her happiness. There could be nothing but regret and guilt on her side after she'll be eliminated today because she was needed more by her family.

"What?" she asked, breaking my reverie. When I didn't say anything, she looked down and frowned. "Is there something on my dress, Maxon?"

"No." Clearing my throat, I added, "You look beautiful, Natalie."

She laughed—the sound was like music. "Oh you, stop trying to be charming. Right now I have to be attentive and try to not forget anything about today's project. That is already messy."

"If you say."

She laughed again, standing up. I took her things from her hands and followed her as she knocked on Kriss's door. While we waited for Kriss to let us in, she told me everything she could think about. While she was busy talking, I was busy remembering everything about her. She has been one of my favourite, and one of my good friend. Sure we never had any future, but she had always been one who, even if talked nonstop, she listened to anything I have to say. Unafraid to give her opinion and always ready for criticism.

Kriss opened the room, and I was busy wondering about how to break the news to Natalie that I almost missed the calculative look Kriss gave me. I decided to ignore it and listened to Natalie's rambling, knowing I'd be missing it when she leaves.

It was another half hour before I got free. Kriss and Natalie wanted to coordinate again and wanted my help in giving them honest opinions. I told them many times that I was the most unreliable source but still they never backed down and I didn't have the heart to rob Natalie of her fun, even if it was short lived.

I never had a sibling to love and hate, but I knew what it feels like to lose someone you love very much. I hadn't lost any of my close relative, but I was sure I've lost America. I couldn't imagine what Natalie may feel when she learns, but I knew it would be similar to what I was feeling. Maybe more. So, seeing her happy and spreading positivity, laughing and talking...it was so much.

I was still reeling from it when I entered in my room and was greeted by Justin. Seeing him...I don't know why or how, I walked up to him and embraced him tightly. I held him tight and he, I. No words were needed between us. He'd lost someone very important to him and I was going to. We didn't know what other was feeling but we could still imagine.

Justin had been my big brother for so long, my best friend since forever, that I cannot imagine not having around me. He understood me so well that he uttered a few promises of how everything will be all right and how he loved me. I listened to his every word, because deep inside my heart I could feel something big was going to happen and everything wouldn't be as it has always been.

.

.

.

"Ready?"

A nasty snort escaped me. "I don't think me saying I'm not would stop or postpone the whole deal, Mom," I said, looking at the reflection of my mother, "so why ask?"

"Because," Mom said, turning me around so that I wasn't looking at her reflection while talking anymore, "that means you're ready to deal with everything else. And right now the country needs the prince. When your Elite needs you, then you'll be there with her to grieve as well as take care of her, and that is not now. Right now, what you have to do is show your face and smile, give a direct message to those who want you out of throne that you aren't going back without a fight. You need to show them that you are the rightful person to become the future king for a reason."

She saw my face and chuckled. "There are times when I forget how young you really are to have such a huge burden on your shoulders. That unlike me, you never actually had the type of childhood every other child in your country has. " Her fingers laced with mine. In her teary dark eyes I could see my whole alternate childhood passing by—every moment that would had been if I wasn't the only heir to the kingdom. "But what I never forgot is that every child here sleeps well because they know that their home is in right hands. I know you'd give anything to have a normal life, but if you have that, than it'll be your home that'll suffer. A hard choice which isn't a choice at all, right?"

I scoffed. "You're acting just like Father, you know that?" Grabbing her shoulders, I shook her a little. "We all know keeping the secrets of Southern attacks is important, but she's her sister, Mom! She deserves to know!" I could see the retort rising on her lips so I added, "I'm not telling to postpone the whole thing off, but it's Natalie, and her sister whom she loves so much."

She smiled ruefully. "I know, sweetheart, I know." She sniffed, her eyes getting all wet yet not ready to spill a tear—she was still being stubbornly strong. "I wish I could tell her and be with her. She is a very special girl, jovial, enthusiastic—she of all least people deserve to go through this, but right now, dumpling, we don't actually have any choice." She shook her head again. I could read her mind in that moment—how much she was hating the whole thing, how helpless she felt. A small smile tugged on her lips as she looked at me. "But you have a choice."

"What are you talking about?"

"This whole thing that happened today is just a reminder how much we want a new queen who could look after the wellbeing of the whole country. You need to carry on with the Selection, Maxon. You don't have a choice in that, but you do have a choice when it comes to whom you could choose."

"Mom—"

"Shh. Listen me out, sweetheart," she murmured soothingly, cupping my cheeks and looking me in the eye. "Your father had to do what he needs to. He doesn't like it, but that's the part of this status. Sometimes, you have to be the wrong guy in order to pull off the right thing." She dropped her hands and took my hands in them. "Do you think I'm blind, not able to see how much your father taunts you? I hate it, every part of it, but I don't stop it because he is right. You're too compassionate, too passionate, too caring to carry out what actually needs to be done. I had already lost so many children of mine that I refrained him from shoving you off to the real world. There's a reason—I—why you've always seen everything through the glass or from a distance. The only time I was selfish was when it came to my family. You."

"Mom, what are you talking about?"

"I know you hate your father for how be treated with you, but if there's anyone you need to yell at is me."

I chuckled. "You know even if it was the you, I'd forgive you in heartbeat."

"He is harsh on you so you don't have to learn this lesson the hard way."

My lips pursed as I listened to her. I'd never thought about things from Father's point of view. He always did those things that he shouldn't, but what he had to do. Somewhere he gave himself to all of that but he was always there to do the hard thing.

"Now, I know it's already so much to digest, but when the time comes and your America isn't ready to choose you, will you be able to choose another?"

Something told me this wasn't my mother interested in her son's romantic life, but she's very serious.

"I don't know, Mom. I mean I have Kriss—"

"Technically you're using her to be your backup, but if someone calls you a pighead for doing what you have to do, you get all riled up." She shook her head again. "This isn't how is works, Maxon. You know what you have to do, you do it, accept that and move on."

"It's easier said than done." I quoted.

She rolled her eyes. "And it won't get any easier, not until you own it. Look at this Selection only as an example: you knew what you have to do but you've always hesitated knowing it will hurt someone."

"America is the one for me, Mom." I emphasized. I couldn't imagine living with anyone else.

"Maybe she is, maybe she isn't," she murmured, "but what does it say about you if you're hesitating to do the right thing."

"What would have Father done?" She gave me a knowing smile. "Right. He'd make a deal with the Elite he was choosing, tell her everything and not to expect anything, and be done with it."

She laughed. "Right. He is an arrogant person—but he never let that stop him from being a good king."

"A good king?" I asked incredulously.

She gave me another knowing look. "He may have not always been right but he always wanted to do the right thing. As of America, you have to give her the last chance: either she is here or not. There's nothing in between. She's played with your feelings long enough just like you've done, but it's time you do the right thing—if not what you should do than what you have to do. She may be your one, sweetheart, but that doesn't mean you have to hang onto her. You have a responsibility which you have to live upto."

"That sucks, Mom." I stepped away from her.

Somewhere I still felt this was all my fault, and on top of that to know that it was actually you who is being coddled rather than the one who actually deserves it made the rage more prominent. And add on the pile about how I was accused of being different from my Father. As if I would hesitate making a decision, no matter how difficult it'd be. It wasn't right. I could be a good king.

"I'll see you down, Mom, all smiling and laughing as if nothing happened."

I knew the look on her face. It meant I was being too sarcastic and stubborn and in denial, but she needs to know how unfair it was.

She tried to stop me but I couldn't. Ever second I saw Lacey's face, the Southerners warning to stop. If I hadn't called out their bluff, she might still be alive. She might have still be seeing her elder sister finally becoming mature as she always complained she never saw one.

"Everything's ready?" Gavril asked his crew, shouting a few more orders for how the set-up wasn't ready and some other things. I'd always been amazed at how he always pulled everything off with such an alarming confidence. It was as if he was also part of a charade and couldn't put his character down—always on alert.

As he turned, he saw me, rewarding me with a big Gavril–smile and waved. I waved back. He point his finger to ask for a minute and I nodded back. After a few moments, he was standing near me, a glass of soda in our hands. He was strictly against drinking before shoot and I was upto it, but tonight I needed a little booze. I told him the same and he laughed.

He put a hand on my shoulder and looked me directly in my eye. "You will always be looked upon, Maxon. There's no escape to that. Getting a booze will not help. The only thing you can do is smile and behave as if nothing happened."

"It's easy for you to say."

He knew about Natalie's sister. He was alerted to not let it leak. Even after knowing all these, even when I knew how disgusted he was and how much he loathed his work sometimes, he always smiled. I'd always asked him to share his experience with me but he always told me one thing: "I got to learn my own lessons with time, Maxon. You'll get to learn yours as well, but with your experiences and your mistakes. Do not think that my tactics will help you handle yours."

Although I knew what he was going to say, I consulted him one more time. "If today I can't pull it together or—"

"If you can't, then you can't. There's no pressure on you, Maxon, not for this." His hand cupped my cheek, his eyes boring into mine. "You are allowed to feel. You're allowed to grieve. Just because every camera will be on you as well doesn't mean you can just shut everything out."

"Natalie doesn't know."

He gave a small pat on my cheek and straightened. "I know. It's unfair, but it's the right thing to do."

He looked down to adjust the microphone attached to him, next to his eight-pointed star lapel pin on his lapel. What made me stop wasn't the pin. It was the memory that I too possessed the same ring, gifted to me by Kriss. The same type of pin wore by Justin on his neck along with Sharon. The same kind of pin I'd once seen on Agatha's bracelet.

Maybe I was overthinking it, trying to make something just because I didn't want my mind to work. That seemed like the thing that could happen.

Inhaling deeply and exhaling the breath more slowly, I thought of getting control of my emotions. It was the time for the prince to be here rather than the emotional mess that was I. The emotionless Prince was who was needed here.

Gavril shook his head. "I've seen you my whole life, but everytime you switch your emotions I think I never knew you."

I gave him a wry smile. "You asked me to learn my own lessons and have a good share of my own mistakes, old man. Well, this is what happens when I have a good share of both."

Gavril gave me an amused smile, as if telling me that he understood it completely. I had no idea how, but I knew I could contact him because he understood me. It was a strange feeling but it was there, providing a little comfort.

Silvia stopped by, took the glass off Gavril's hand and gulped it's contents down. "Much needed it." Just like me, even she was running on nerves today. The news of Lacey's death had stricken us all.

Gavril winked and gave her another glass. She gulped its contents down as well. Checking her register for something, she told me when to come up and a few more instructions on how the presentation was going to work today. When done, I saw her looking at Gavril, asking a few questions that he answered coolly.

Nobody could know by looking at them, but because I already knew it, I could see the minor changes in their body languages. The way Gavril stood all straight and calm, or the way Silvia always leaned a little, or their constant hand gestures that they never used in front of anyone else, or how whenever they were together, both of their eyes lit with an unnamed emotion.

I'd never known what made them step back from their relationship but I had an idea looking at them how hard it was for them to remain professional when their every instinct was shouting at them to step closer.

They both were still busy with their "professional work" that I stepped away from them.

I wondered if after today America and mine relationship will be the same—awkward and distant?

For the hundredth time I looked around, hoping to catch one single glimpse of America and a single chance to talk to her. She was already seated on her chair, her hair tied up in a messy bun, an icy blue gown complimenting her freckles and hair.

Our eyes met and stayed there, connected in a way I never thought we'd be. There were so many emotions lurking in her eyes but her face remained stern. Keeping the eye contact, I tugged on my ear, hoping she'll tug back but it never happened. I waited for her to return the gesture back, but I never got one.

Not even when as I went on the Dias to sit on my chair beside the king's I tugged on my ear and in return I got a shake of head—an answer promising no words will be spoken.

In that moment I knew, just like I knew when she shut herself down from me when Marlee was canned, that I had truly lost her. There was no coming back now.

Kriss caught my eye and gave me a small wave. I gave her a small nod and a small smile. Her answering smile was everything good. She loved me. She cherished me. She was devoted to me. Everything that I needed in a future queen bagged up in a single package.

I would choose her.

Reeling in that thought, I took a deep breathe and sealed all my emotions away so that no one could read me.

Mom sat beside the king on the other side and told him about a few things that I opted to not hear. My eyes were just for the Elites today. Charming Celeste, Sweet Kriss, Jolly Natalie, Responsible Elise and Stubborn America. They were all here not knowing that the whole Selection has been threatened.

How could I let anyone of them go not knowing who would be the next target—if they all will be safe or not.

Marlee!

If the Northerners can know what I did to and for Marlee, what are the chances the Southern rebels don't know about it? I'll go check on them the next morning, I thought as Gavril took the stage and gave a good brief of Illéa's progress.

"I know you don't think it should be happening," the king told me in a whisper, his voice so low I couldn't hear it properly. "but can you please try to look a little more interested?"

"I am, Sir."

He gave me a cruel smile. "Try better, Maxon. We're already dealing with major things, I don't want our country questioning something stupid."

"Yes, sir."

"Clarkson!" Mom reprimanded, giving him a stern look. "Stop trying to be unfeeling! It was our battle in which she martyred. Show a little compassion."

His face turned to her that I couldn't see his expression, but if his voice was any clue, he was as detached as he could ever be. "Love, I'm trying to be strong so our people could stay strong. It's not time for compassion but rage. Let them in—we'll be ready."

The whole day must have been catching on him, I thought as I saw her fingers lacing with hers. I glanced at America, and saw her fidgeting in her seat. My lips twitched in a smile as I thought how queasy she must be feeling with her project. In that moment I wanted to hold her have and give her confidence. Just like she should be sitting beside me, holding my hand as I struggled through all these myself.

It wasn't the reality.

Soon it was over and he was announcing the Elites to come up and present us with their ideas.

Natalie showed us her presentation: on how the rebels were disturbing the whole country and its peace and how it was wrong and that everybody should work together to get rid of them. That they need to be outlawed to attain peace. It was good, except it was everything we all knew and wanted to hide it from the whole country as long as possible.

As the part of the whole thing, they both asked her questions to which she gave no new ideas. Her every answer was simple, childish, ignorant, as if she actually didn't want to get rid of them.

Father was very disappointed by the whole thing. When she'd sat back, his exact words were, "Either she is too lazy to come up with an actual project or a big idiot to throw the reality in our face."

Mom shook her head, a sad smile on her mouth. "It's ironic, isn't it? She is talking about how the rebels are ruining the whole of Illéa when they just destroyed her family."

"I think it's for the best." I murmured, saying what needed to be said. "One more reason to let her go. No one will need to be alerted—we do already have a good cover story," I turned to look at the mastermind, "don't we, sir?"

He gave me a long glance, a smirk on his face. He was impressed. "Careful, boy. I may think you have come up with a good plan without my help."

"Be civilized, both of you. We don't need to be snapping at each other."

"Don't worry, Mom." I told her, looking at my father in the eye. He maybe doing the right thing, but it was still wrong.

I always knew he was the wrong guy most of the times, but I never realised how necessary it was for him to portray that character because he couldn't let that burden fall on anyone else's shoulder. He never minded doing the right thing no matter how wrong it was because it needed to be done.

Will I need to do the same?

Will I ever be able to make the right choices and live upto that no matter how wrong or hard it was?

I already was asked to do but I hesitated everytime. The only time I didn't hesitate was when it came to Marlee. But did I do the right thing to her? I could've convinced Father to give them any other punishment, but I was scared of his reaction—and even then he was trying to make the most of what we had to deal with.

Was he right when he always said that I wasn't fit to rule the country? Was I too delusional? Too coddled to see the actual circumstances and act accordingly? Could I be the man who doesn't mind being the bad guy?

Soon it was Elise who made a good point of giving a reminder by pointing out how important the whole fake war and alliance was. Another question burned up inside me as I listened to her ideas of penpals: is she aware of the actual situation or if she too is being played with? Next was Kriss, who did it exceptionally well. She said every thing correct, with the perfect timing. See was as charming as always, along with the questionnaire she faced. When done she gave me a big smile and I returned it with a nod. I was busy thinking that while Celeste finished her presentation after Kriss. Her presentation was good as I'd told her it'll be. She was delightful during the whole time, even when she was questioned about every loophole that existed in her plan.

The whole time my parents discussed among themselves about the Elites and it was interesting to listen them. Like when father commented about Celeste how charming and elegant she was and Mom corrected her with, "True, but if she wins, the bridge between the castes will only widen. So it's better of Maxon to let her go."

He'd teased her by saying "You're jealous," to which she'd chuckled, "Don't get your hopes up, Clarkson, you aren't getting rid of me anytime soon."

Listening to Elise, Father had spat, "She is showing the true diabolical colour of New Asia by delivering a threat as dessert."

Mom shook her head as well. "She took it too far today. It is not less than manipulation "

I'd snickered. "Does it matter? The king wanted the alliance so desperately that be made sure she remains here. She is just pointing out those things."

The king glared at me. "Yes, I did it, but I always kept it subtle."

Mom seconded him as well by adding, "When Clarkson does it, it's for the country, but what she did is straight out threat. We need her here, but that doesn't mean she gets to rub it in our face at her convenience." She put a hand on his arm. "I'll talk to her, Clarkson."

When it was Kriss's turn, Mom complimented her work by appraising her: "She has put such an amazing effort in the whole thing," to which Father had surprisingly agreed, saying "Yes. She did a fine work. But have you ever noticed how it will help the rebels getting all the more riled up and gather more people on their side? This is the worst timing for such a good work at such a hard time."

I had shaken my head, not willing to compliment in anything. It was better if I concentrated on them, having all the second thoughts I was having about my reign.

America was announced next. Dad didn't say anything. I knew what he meant by that—she wasn't worth the effort. Mom searched my eyes before looking at her again, and in that moment I was sure she knew it was either her or Natalie who'll be eliminated today. Mom was right. I was done toying around. It was either here or there today, nothing in between.

She introduced herself and said something. My eyes and ears were only for her that I noticed when it wasn't the Elite talking but a girl who had seen too much when she said, "Despite growing up sometimes without food or electricity, despite watching people I love forced into the stations we are assigned at birth with little hope for change, despite seeing the gaps between myself and others because of this number even though we aren't very different, I find myself in love with our country."

"What I propose wouldn't be simple. It might even be painful, but I genuinely believe it would benefit our entire kingdom." A purposeful break. "I think we should eliminate the castes."

There were many gasps I heard but it was my Father's angry face in front of my eyes.

She'd gone too far.

Father grumbled something and Mom was trying to calm her but I remained silent, my senses blocked.

I knew the consequences.

She'd dug herself a big hole and now there was no way of letting her out.

It was bad. It was going to be too bad.

"I know there was a time," she continued despite all the gasps, "and when our country was new, when the assignment of these numbers helped organize something that was on the brink of not existing. But we are no longer that country. We are so much more now."

"To allow the talentless to have exalted privileges and suppress what could be the greatest minds in the world for the sake of an archaic organization system is cruel, and it only stops us from becoming the best we can be."

To prove herself further she mentioned a few statistics about everything and how the public was reacting to it. It just got messy. Father was having a hard time sitting on his throne rather than dragging America out just like he wanted to. Mom was completely perplexed as well. While America was still busy disclosing a few more statistics, Mom looked at me and shook her head, signalling that it was officially over now: there was nothing she could do. America wasn't done, yet. She delivered data about the literacy and health of the lower castes and hoe they were faring. She also stated about the inequality faced by everyone because there was so much imbalance everywhere and it needed to be dissolved in order to make Illéa prosper.

She finally took a deep breath, signalling she was nearly done. She gave a nice conclusion, closed her eyes as stunned silence filled in. There were no cheers, no applause. Everyone was more than shocked to react, but my eyes were just for two people. America was still standing there, looking around, and my father who was wearing a stony and murderous look on his face.

For the first time after I got my first lashing I felt true terror. I couldn't protect America as I want to, and I certainly can't side with my father who was promising death to the person I loved the most.

"And how do you suggest we eliminate the castes?" The king inquired in his most deadly voice. "Just suddenly take them all away?"

America shrugged. Meanwhile I looked at Mom for help. She shook her head again, reminding me once again and that America dug her grave herself. "Oh…I don't know."

He scoffed. "And you don't think that would cause riots? Complete mayhem? Allow for rebels to take advantage of public confusion?"

She gave a confused look as if it was all foreign to her. I saw her swallow and then she answered: "I think the creation caused a decent amount of confusion, and we managed that." She searched for something and came up with a book so familiar. I recalled it was the same book I'd given her for safekeeping to help her intrigue. Amidst everything going on I'd completely forgotten about it. She opened the diary to a page she'd bookmarked. "In fact I have a description here."

"Are we off?" The king bellowed. Someone answered affirmatively. He ordered all the cameras to face down. All the lights had gone out and the studio was covered in dim darkness. People were asked to go and chatter was unleashed. In no time my father was standing in front of America, ripping the book out of her hands. In a voice that terrified even me, he bawled, "Where did you get this?"

I tried to catch upto him, which became difficult while trying to keep my calm persona. Mom was right behind me.

He turned to me. "Where did she get this?" When I said nothing, he yelled, "Answer me!"

"From me. We were looking up what Halloween was. He wrote about it in the diaries, and I thought she'd like to read more."

He hissed a curse. "You idiot! I knew I should have made you read these sooner. You're completely lost. You have no clue of the duty you have!"

I had no idea what he meant, but by looking at Mom's face I knew something wasn't right. And when I caught America's eye, I realised neither did she. She was as oblivious as me.

Before I could say anything, the king ordered, "She leaves tonight. I've had enough of her."

Despite me trying to catch her eye, America took a step back, then another, and finally turned sideways. She didn't look at me. Everything was falling apart. Mom standing over there shocked; Father standing beside me beyond furious; America not even willing to look at me.

I shook my head clearing my mind. That's when I recalled what he told me about the Selection being my decision. He gave me his word, he can't just take it back. Steeling my nerves, I took a step in front of him, taking me stand. "You can't send her home. That's my choice, and I say she stays."

Father gave me a look as if it was me who was going crazy. "Maxon Calix Schreave, I am the king of Illéa, and I say—"

"Could you stop being the king for five minutes and just be my father?" I asked instead. I was fed up of always trying to remind myself the father was the king. For the first time I was feeling lost and here he was, my Father, telling me that he wants everything that I wanted out of my sight. "This is my choice. You got to make yours, and I want to make mine. No one else is leaving without my say so!"

He said nothing. Just shoved the book in Mom's hand and told her to get rid of it. And then, "Maxon, I need to see you in my office."

I couldn't believe it. The only thing I ever asked of him was to be my Father and this is how he decided to award me. But I didn't feel disgust, l felt terror of sitting in front of him while he lash me for asking one thing.

When I didn't say anything, he gave me a disturbing smirk. "Or, I could simply talk to her." His hand gestured to where America was standing, all panicked and clueless.

"No." I answered in an instant. I'd rather get all the lashes than see America writhing in pain. "That won't be necessary." Taking a deep breath, I turned to where the Elites were sitting. "Ladies, why don't you all head upstairs? We'll have dinner sent to you tonight. America," another deep inhale, "maybe you should go ahead and pack your things. Just in case."

From the corner of my eye I saw the king give another of his disgusting smirk. "Excellent idea. After you, son."

America stopped in front of me and I felt defeated for failing her by not standing up for her. If only I'd talked to her earlier and clear things between us before it got any out of the hands. I opened my mouth to say how sorry I was for letting it happen or how I wish I could make it alright or how I would work till she gets another chance, but I ended up saying nothing. None of it mattered anyway.

Celeste was sitting, actually nervous and terrified, rightfully so. Elise and Natalie were leaning on each other, holding the other. Kriss, I saw from the corner of my eyes, was wringing her hands, trying to get my attention. Before she could approach me I stepped away and made my way to my Father's office.

Mom's question stopped mid-track. "What about the other matter?"

Oh yes. Natalie's sister's news. Father acknowledged it by getting close to where Natalie was sitting. When he broke the news out, he was all steady and calm. "Natalie, we didn't want to tell you before the Report, but we've received some bad news."

"Bad news?" She was already nervous, leaning back against the chair.

"Yes. I'm very sorry for your loss, but it appears the rebels took your sister this morning." And then he told her the little things.

How could he just give her this news without being sorry for her loss. He didn't even stop for her to get it all in.

Whatever Mom said about Dad being a good king was all a lie to me now. There was no good in him. Nothing but treating everyone as pawns. Yes, he did everything right but always on the wrong way.

Till now I always thought I'd be more like my Father, but as I walked to the room where my personal hell would be unleashed with my Father on my heels, all I could think was how I never want to be like my Father.

Ever.