A very stern look—something I'd seen so many times on her—covered her face as she crossed her arms. "I've heard Kriss's version of what happened, and I don't think she's exaggerating anything." That much was true. Kriss never exaggerated anything. She may manipulate events a little to her own advantage, a thing she'd tried on me just once, but I knew her. She was sweetheart in every way that mattered. "As for Celeste," she continued, "I'd rather never talk about her ever again."

I liked it that she was jealous over me. It made me laugh. "So stubborn. I'll miss that." I'll miss everything about her. I'll miss her.

She chewed on her lower lip for a few moments, while I took my fill in by looking at her. "So, it's done then? I'm out?"

What did she mean? Wasn't she happy she got what she wanted? "I'm not sure I could stop it now." Not after what she'd set in motion. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

She shook her head, her eyes filling again. "I was mad. I was so mad."

So she was mad and decided to uproot everything just for fun? Maybe if we'd been more clear from the start...

No matter what, I couldn't bubble up the truth anymore from her. She needs to know. I can't let her go with incomplete truths marring her every thought.

The question was: Where to start?

She had her face turned, blinking furiously. I, too, looked away. Staring up at the dark ceiling, I thought of what I'd thought I had when we were together. "I thought you were mine." I was sure of that before and after the Halloween party. Hell, I was ready to announce it to the world... "If I could have proposed to you at the Halloween party, I would have. I'm supposed to do something official with my parents and guests and cameras, but I got special permission to ask you privately when we were ready and have a reception afterward. I never told you about that, did I?" Everything has been planned out perfectly. Every single thing and moment. "I had this speech prepared, all these promises I wanted to make. I probably would have forgotten it and made an idiot of myself. Though...I can remember it now."

It was all so fresh in my mind. You are my favourite person in the whole world, America. My happy place. My comfort zone. My everything. Your one smile makes my day. When you play violin, you actually plug the strings of my heart. When you laugh, it is the best music ever. I want all the things with you. Marriage, children, life. But above all that, I want you in my life. Without you I'm incomplete. Make me the happiest person alive by completing me. Marry me.

But I knew it wasn't the right time to dig those things. It was time to bury them to get our closure. "I'll spare you." I murmured, closing that thought in my mind. Those were the days when everything was simple. Unlike the days that followed after. When she'd decided she didn't want me...when she didn't want to talk to me. "When you pushed me away, I panicked. I had thought that I was done with this insane contest, and I found myself feeling like it was the very first day of the Selection all over again, only this time my options were far more limited. And just the week before, I'd spent time with all those girls trying to find someone who outshone you, who I thought I could want more, and failed. I felt hopeless. And then Kriss came to me, so very humble, only wanting to see me happy, and I wondered how I'd missed that in her. I knew she was nice, and she's very attractive; but there was something more to her this whole time."

I remember what I'd thought that time. That there was no one here for me other than America. Or how no one was nearly as perfect as her. I'd failed again and again to find anyone else. "I think I simply wasn't really looking. What reason did I have when there was you?"

Yes. I had found that type of love for me. Just like America had wished for me to find. A love that consumed me. One that made all the others fade away. But the other part she'd wished for me, to never feel the pain or separation... she'd made sure of that herself by distancing herself from me. And I'd cemented her decision because I was scared and panicked.

Maybe I'd ruined what we once had, but she has also played a major role in making sure it happened.

"Do you love her?" she asked in a whisper, her arms wrapped around myself.

How could I answer to that without being honest when I wasn't honest with myself about it?

Do I love her? Yes. Was I in love with her? I didn't know myself. I just knew that if America was gone that she was my most preferable option. We had a good friendship, we respected each other. We loved each other.

My pause was long enough that she filled it herself with a short bobble of her head.

I didn't want her to think it like that. I wanted to be honest with her...

"It's different than what you and I had." I surmised. "It's quieter, maybe friendlier. But it's steady. I can depend on Kriss, and I know without question that she is devoted to me." She was still looking away. I could read on her face how much it hurt her. To have her place take over by someone else. A small part of me was happy to hurt her just the way she hurt me, but a big part of me didn't want to see her sad. I continued. "As you can see, there is very little certainty in my world. She's refreshing in that way."

She nodded but said nothing. What could she say? That Kriss wasn't good when we both knew the truth.

She finally faced me. "Then why Celeste? If Kriss is so wonderful..."

I nodded, my whole face burning up with embarrassment. This was the part I didn't actually want to explain. It was hasty on my part, and mindless. But she needed to know the truth. That just having Kriss couldn't fill the space America had left behind. No one would ever be enough.

She made my heart burst with emotions. She pushed me so many times, just to make me a better man. She made me a better man. She was my rock in the sea—accepting the challenges and challenging me.

I couldn't sit still. If I did, I would do something we both may regret. Like me grabbing her...or something worse.

"As you now know, my life is full of stresses that I prefer not to share." I murmured, pacing all over the short space. My back wasn't throbbing much to have me take a seat. The dim light made it hard to see anything, which worked in my favour. I didn't want to see America's face while I spill out my weaknesses.

"I live in a constant state of tension. I'm always being watched, judged. My parents, our advisers...there are always cameras in my life, and," with my hand I waved it over her, "now you're all here." I remember how she'd reacted about cameras. "I'm sure you've felt trapped at least once because of your caste, but imagine how I feel. There are things I've seen, America, and things I know; and I don't think I'll ever be able to change them."

"You're aware, I'm sure, that technically my father is supposed to retire in my twenties, when he feels I'm ready to lead; but do you think he'll ever stop pulling the strings?" everyone knew the answer to that. He won't stop controlling every aspect until he's dead. He will just become my puppet master, something I never wanted to happen. But... "That's not going to happen so long as he lives; and I know he's terrible, but I don't want him to die...He is my father."

But he never was. I was just a means to an end for him. Whether it was my work or Selection or anything, he always wanted to have his way...

"Speaking of which, he's had his hand in the Selection from very early on." Anyone will be blind to not have seen it. "If you look at who's left, it's pretty clear."

With every finger I ticked off a name. With my index finger I pointed out my first Elite. "Natalie is extremely pliable, and that makes her my father's favourite, as I am too wilful in his opinion. The fact that he's so fond of her makes me have to fight the urge to hate her." The second was, "Elise has allies in New Asia, but I'm not sure if that's of any use at all. That war..." I shook my head. The politics of the kingdom wasn't worth this moment. "And she's so...I don't even know the word for it. I knew from the beginning that I didn't want some girl who would agree with everything I said or just roll over and adore me." I shook my head again. How many times have I tried to get her to show something other than her doll self. "I try to contradict her, and she concedes the point. Every time! It's infuriating. It's like she doesn't have a spine."

I took a deep breath. She was next on my list. Looking at her, I said, "You were my pick. My only pick. My father wasn't enthusiastic; but at that point you hadn't done anything to upset him. So long as you were quiet, he didn't mind me keeping you. In fact, he was fine with me choosing you, if you were well behaved. He's used your recent actions to point out the flaws in my judgment and is insisting that he have the final say now."

And everything was off the hook now.

I shook my head. I was getting distracted again. "That's beside the point. The others—Marlee, Kriss, and Celeste—were chosen by advisers. Marlee was a favourite, as is Kriss."

Marlee was out of the list. While Kriss...

"Kriss would be a fine choice. I wish she would let me closer, if only for the fact that I don't know if we have...chemistry. I'd like to at least have an idea."

Which left us with only one person.

"And Celeste. She is very influential, a celebrity in her own right. It looks good on TV. It sounds right for someone who is close to being on the same level as me to be the final choice. I like her if only for her tenacity. She at least has a backbone. But I can tell that she's got a manipulative streak and that she's working this whole situation for everything she can get out of it. I know when she holds me, it's the crown she pulls close to her heart."

I closed my eyes, because this wa the part I hated to admit the most..

"She's using me, so I don't feel guilty using her. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd been encouraged to throw herself at me." She'd done it so many times already.

Unlike Kriss and her...

"I can respect Kriss's boundaries. And I'd much prefer to be in your arms, but you've barely spoken to me..."

If only we'd talked or done something. As cliché as it may sound, as much she shook my world, she was also the one to bring a sense of normality in the crazy times.

She was looking at me, thinking something I couldn't place my hands on. Was she thinking it was very wrong of me? Was she judging me?

"Is it so awful of me to want fifteen minutes of my life not to matter? To feel good? To pretend for a little while that someone loves me? You can judge me if you want, but I can't apologize for needing something normal in my life."

My eyes bored into hers, looking for some sort of answer. What will she say?

"I get that."

I stopped in my tracks and looked at her in puzzlement, my mouth gaped open.

What did she mean? How can she say that? Did she really mean it? Whom? When? Was it her ex? Or someone different? Or has she found a guard of her liking and that was why she wanted to be as far from me as fast as possible? Was it the guard from her hometown? Officer Leger? Or someone else?

I was still thinking about it when she changed the topic by asking, "Would you ever pick her? Celeste, I mean?"

Clearing my mind of all those stupid thoughts—I decided America wasn't serious, she just meant she understood what I meant, and I was overthinking it—I sat beside her as carefully as I could. I didn't want to jostle my scars anymore than I already had by all the pacing.

There was no point of thinking over it. I already knew my answer to that—I'd mused over it a hard and good time. "If I had to, I'd take her over Elise or Natalie. But that won't happen unless Kriss decides she wants to go."

She gave me a small smile accompanied with a small nod. "Kriss is a good choice. She'd make a much better princess than I ever would have."

I gave a small chuckle. "She is less of an instigator. Lord knows what would happen to the country with you at the helm."

But the thing was, a small part of me still wanted to find it out.

She laughed along with me. "I'd probably ruin it."

I recalled a small conversation with Yayra. She'd asked if we take over, than maybe we'll all destroy our countries by trying to do the right thing.

I'd said, "Maybe our countries need to be ruined in order to reform them the correct way."

Maybe she was the right choice after all, but now I may never find it because I'd lost the chance.

We both didn't say another word for quite a good time. There were instances when I didn't know what to do: when our fingers touched but both of us took our hands away; when our gazed lingered on each other was another moment; when we both darted our eyes from the other.

Now that she knew everything, I felt a little light. But a question kept nagging me in my head since a long time.

"Would you indulge me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've shared a lot of things with you tonight that are very difficult for me to admit. I was wondering if you could answer one question for me."

She answered in a heartbeat. "Yes. Anything."

I swallowed. I didn't know why it mattered, but the answer was very much important to me—the question was important.

"Did you ever love me?"

Our eyes locked. In the eyes, as bright as the sky and as deep as the ocean, I could see every emotion passing through her intriguing mind. For the first time in a very long time I was again able to read her face. All the moments that had lead us to here trespassed my mind as a whirlwind, rekindling my—her—every emotion.

She ducked her face, breaking eye contact. Her hand grazed mine slightly, her eyes still darted away. "I know that when I thought you were responsible for hurting Marlee, it crushed me. Not just because it happened, but because I didn't want to think of you as that kind of person." Her fingers traced mine as she continued. "I know that when you talk about Kriss or when I think about you kissing Celeste...I'm so jealous I can hardly breathe. And I know that when we talked on Halloween, I was thinking about our future. And I was happy."

Her hand left mine, wandering away which was the last thing I wanted.

"I know if you had asked, I would have said yes." Her eyes filled with unshed tears again. "I also know that I never knew how to feel about you dating other people or being a prince. Even with everything you told me tonight, I think there are pieces of yourself that you will always guard... But, with all that..."

She was really doing this. She was telling me everything I wanted to know but not the exact words.

Just like I never did.

I could feel her pain, her decision of not saying the exact words. If said, there was no going back. And where we standing, there was no going ahead. By saying it aloud, we were only going to worsen it. It was better if it was left unsaid.

I nodded, "Thank you." I whispered, my fingers teasing hers again. If this was the most I could get, then I was going to take all of it greedily. "At least I can know for certain that, for one brief moment of our time together, you and I felt the same thing."

Only if we'd taken an action for it rather then delaying it everytime.

She shook her head several times. "I've been so foolish." Her breathing wasn't normal, neither was her voice—it was all croaked up. At last, all the tears she was trying to keep pent up fell down her cheeks. "I kept letting the crown scare me out of wanting you. I told myself that you didn't really matter to me. I kept thinking that you had lied to me or tricked me, that you didn't trust me or care about me enough. I let myself believe that I wasn't important to you. One look at your back says you'd do damn near anything for me. And I threw it away. I just threw it away..."

Leaving her hand, I opened my arms. She fell into them. And everything was right again, even if for one night.

She cried her tears out while I just held her, sifting my fingers through her hair. If this was what fate had stored up for me, it really had a wicked sense of humour. I finally got whatever I wanted, but just for a night. I have to let her go tomorrow. This was all borrowed time I was lucky to have.

"Please don't cry, darling." I murmured, tasting the sweet word on my lips again. "I'd spare you tears for the rest of your life if I could."

I felt her shake her head. "I'll never see you again." Her breathing hitched. "It's all my fault."

My hands tightened on her, holding her as close as possible. "No, I should have been more open."

"I should have been more patient."

"I should have proposed that night in your room."

"I should have let you."

I chuckled. She turned her head, looking up at me. Her face was open to me once again. Her red-rimmed eyes smiling for a moment. She was more beautiful to me in this moment than she ever was. Lifting my fingers to her face, I wiped the tears from her cheeks. Our gaze locked once again, but this time no one darted it. Everything I wanted this past month was in my arms. Though we still had our regrets, the moment was perfect. Nothing could spoil it.

Nothing but...

"America...I don't know how much time we have left together, but I don't want to spend it regretting things we didn't do."

She gave me a small grin, despite tears still falling out of her eyes. "Me neither."

Turning her head, she kissed my palm. Then the tips of my fingers. This was the only motivation I needed. Threading my fingers through her hair, I tilted her head up and captured her lips with mine. Her soil and almond and winters fragrance surrounded me. She was as eager as I. We hadn't shared any intimate moment since after Halloween, yet it still felt like it was just yesterday since I had held her, just like it felt it had been a century since we were together.

When I was with others, I was never restful. I was always searching for something: chemistry, or friendship or something else that made it special. I was never simply with them. But with America, it seemed my mind had never found stability before. There was peace everywhere, space only for the sparks that she lit. A type of fire that consumed me, and I was ready to be burned by it.

For this small moment, the vision I had during the week before Halloween appeared again. Where I was with America. Happy. Where every day was exhilarating and an adventure.

We shifted, sliding so that she laid down and I hovered over her. Using my forearm as a pillow, she slept on the floor and I made sure to not jostle my back. "Your back?" she whispered, shifting a little so I was comfortable.

"Shh." I stopped her from wriggling. "It's fine. I'm fine."

She put a hand on my bare shoulder, her thumb brushing my cheek very lightly. Her other hand slowly travelled through my chest with the lightest of touch, and then she changed her mind, lacing her hand with mine instead of exploring. I brought our laced hands together and with the back of my hand, I brushed her cheek.

I ran my nose along her jaw and neck and throat and collarbone and every part I was able to. I didn't want to stop—ever. She ran her fingers through my hair all the time while I explored her, and after a few moments, fisting my hair in her hand, she guided my mouth back to hers.

"I missed this." She murmured, touching my cheeks with her fingertips. Looking in her blue eyes, I could feel every emotion she was trying to explain. "Not this...this part," she clarified, blushing as I pecked her lips once again, "but the part where I get to have you by my side. You've been my friend since I've come here, but the past month, with all that happened, what hurt me the most wasn't that I lost you, but that I lost my friend as well."

"I know. I felt the same way." I murmured, kissing her fingertips. "You have no idea how much I was consumed with you."

She gave me a smile which was anything but that. "And now, after what I did..."

"No sad thoughts, remember?"

She chuckled, though the sound was anything but merry. "If I could do things differently, I would do it in a heartbeat."

"Me too."

Both of us looked at each other, trying to convey with our words what we didn't want to say. She wanted to stay, so did I. But there was no hope left. Not now, not after everything.

After a few more moments we prepared a makeshift bed for us with everything that we could use and grabbed the blankets. She was a little uncomfortable in her blue gown she'd wore for the presentation—which seemed a whole lifetime ago—but managed to work through it. I wore my shirt as well, not knowing when our little paradise will be over and the doors will open. The shirt was still a little wet, dark stains on the back of my white shirt, which I covered by wearing my coat.

Sleeping sideways on our makeshift bed l—I'd tried laying on my back but it hurt—with her using my hand as a pillow and I playing with her hand, we laid with our eyes closed, content for the time.

Everything was fine, even if for a few stolen moments.

Though it was dark, and lights ridiculously dim, we kept looking in each other's eyes, even when we were so tired we could sleep in just a moment.

I wondered what will happen tomorrow: Where will we be?; What important decisions will we be making?; Will we remain in touch or not?; Will we still be friends or not?.

"Do you think you'll go back to him? Your ex?" I thought it aloud. It was petty of me to be jealous if she said yes, but I wanted to know.

It was a good thing she was taking her time to think over it. That meant she wasn't decided yet. "He's a good choice. Smart, brave, maybe the only person on the planet more stubborn than me."

I laughed at that. If he was more stubborn than her, then heaven forbid if they both end up together.

She closed her eyes, snuggling by my side. "It would be awhile before I could think about that though."

I said nothing just hummed. I didn't want to think her with anyone other as well. Our hands were laced in between us. Feeling content, I ran my thumb along the back of her palm while I asked what I had in my mind. "Could I write you?"

Her face scrunched as she thought over it. I realised it was one of the most cutest of looks.

"Maybe you should wait a few months. You might not even miss me." Her face turned all thoughtful, and I almost laughed at the absurdity of her assumption. How could I not miss her? "If you do write...you have to tell Kriss."

"You're right." I didn't elaborate any further.

If she wanted to imagine Kriss as my wife by then, then it was her wish. I already knew if America was out of the picture, then who it would be for me. And even after that, I didn't want to wait for her to approve if I wanted a penmanship with America. It was something that America wouldn't mind if I maintained such a relationship with Kriss if things were different.

But they weren't.

For this one night, which was nothing but a gift, I wanted things to not be different. I didn't want to confess everything I felt to America knowing there won't be a tomorrow for me to say anything. I wanted to have her with me again, especially after tonight.

But with what happened today...

In all the mess I forgot one thing. I didn't have to let things happen they were supposed to. I can change them. I have the power. The only thing I lacked was a proper statement, but other than that I already had everything I needed. Mom wouldn't mind siding by my side. The committee can all go to hell for all I care. The only thing standing in between was my father. The king.

How could I make him change his decision? It had to be something that he can't overlook. Something that will work in my favour without changing the actual thing.

"A book!" she gasped, opening her eyes in excitement.

"What?"

"Maxon, what if the Northern rebels are looking for the diaries?"

This was interesting, and intriguing. "What do you mean?"

"When I was chased that day in the gardens, I saw them as they passed me. A girl dropped a bag full of books. The guy with her had bunches, too. They're stealing books." She pressed. "What if they're looking for a specific one?"

Something that could even shake the king as well. Something that was so peculiar and precious it needed to be kept away from everyone's eyes.

It didn't make any sense why, but it completely filled the blanks.

Only if I knew what was in that diary...

Again that diary. What was so damn important in that diary that everybody wanted it and the king wanted me to read it?

"America...what exactly was in that diary?"

"A lot. About how Gregory basically stole the country, how he forced the castes on people. It was awful, Maxon."

"But the Report was cut off." I insisted. "Even if that is what they're looking for, there's no way they could know that was it or what's inside it. Trust me, after that little display, my father is making sure those things are even more protected than usual."

But it again made no sense. If all it had was the recordings of how Illéa was made, then why hide it? If it was something terrible, it was better destroyed. Except, they couldn't be risked reaching in some others' hands. Hands like the rebels.

It all seemed ridiculous, which was why it was astounding as well. If the books were the secret to everything what the rebels wanted...

She answered my questions for me. "That's it. I know it." She stifled a yawn, covering her face.

"Don't. Don't get worked up. For all we know, they just really, really like to read."

She moaned at my terrible attempt at humour.

"I seriously thought I couldn't make this any worse."

"Shh." I murmured, wrapping my arms tightly around her and pulling her snugly against me. "Don't worry now. You should probably sleep."

She tried to deny like a stubborn child, "But I don't want to." but curled closer to me as well, already closing her eyes. My arms tightened more around her, because an irrational part of me still thought it was all just a dream and she won't be here when I wake up.

"Me either. Even on a good day, sleeping makes me nervous."

It always brought the dreadful things I never wanted to think. Just like what happened today, with the king. And so many more...

Something was hurting me, in my coat. Then I recalled what it was, and I felt stupid for not realising it earlier. Digging in the inner pockets, I found the bracelet—the one I'd brought for her from New Asia, the one she'd thrown away just because she was too mad to hear me out—and tied it on her right wrist, above a simple single-buttoned handmade bracelet she wore. "I've been carrying it in my pocket. I'm a pitiful romantic, right?" I smiled in the dark, thinking about what the simple bracelet meant for us. "I was going to keep it, but I want you to have something from me."

As a final goodbye present. As a token of all the moments we got to have.

"Thank you. It makes me happy."

"Then I'm happy, too."

We didn't say nothing else for the rest of the night. Just snuggled in each others arms, holding onto each other for one last time.

Soon she was sleeping, a small smile on her face, brightening it even more. With her in my arms for the night, I thought about how I could extend her stay. What could I suggest that her elimination gets cancelled. One thing was certain: if it was anyone who should go then it was Natalie. With everything going on right now, it made complete sense. Also, I didn't have to give her false hope when I knew that I could never select her.

So...

What could it be.

Then it stuck me. What America had once told me. It was only the two of us who actually knew what happened. We could change the history. Who was going to say anything, after all.

The king needn't need to know the real specifics. He should just know the refined version I was going to tell him. If he couldn't find it in himself to be my Father, then I have to make sure I use the king.

Kissing her forehead, I made a silent vow to her—for us: I wouldn't make the same mistake twice of not doing anything until it was too late. This time I would fight.

With my head above hers, her hands wrapped around me, my breathing marching hers, her unique fragrance surrounding me, I finally succumbed to slumber.

I didn't have any nightmares. Thanks to her.

.

.

.

While Maxon was making the most of the time he got on his hand by making his amends, down in the safe room allocated for the Royal family, Clarkson and Amberly sat on their makeshift thrones. None of them showed it but they both were worried. Maxon wasn't able to come to the room in time. Apparently the Southern rebels were quite thorough this time.

Yesterday had been harsh, Clarkson thought, his eyes on the paper but seeing something else entirely. The news of Luca's younger sister death, then the Five with her stunt, and then Maxon doing everything to defend her. He was so angry on everything that he lashed out on his own son, just because he'd asked for something only he could give him. A Father.

What he couldn't ever explain his own flesh and blood was that how deep he got in his own burdens that he forgot everything else. In the pressure of becoming the king, he'd forgotten what he was. A husband. A Father.

Seated beside him, trying to appear calm and steady, his wife worked on a few documents that he'd passed her. But he knew better. She was more than worried about Maxon's absence.

God, where was he? He was in no condition to walk properly when he exited his office—what would've happened when the attack happened? Was he safe?

The Elites were relentless as well. Today had not only unsettled him but everybody else as well. Natalie sat in on one corner, silently mourning her sister, with Kriss and Elise by her side. Celeste sat on a bed all by herself, her eyes fixed on a magazine just like mine were on my papers. They all were worried as well for Maxon's safety, but no news has come even now. Even that America had gone all MIA after the presentation.

A guard entered the room, his pistol in one hand and a rifle slung on his other shoulder. "Everything's clear, Your Majesties. You all are free to go now."

"Did anyone find Maxon?" His wife asked, hope so strong it could melt a stone on her face. The guard shook his head, and Amberly inhaled deeply, only to exhale it slowly. This was the only sign she showed how afraid she was for their son's safety. She turned to the girls, bringing a big smile on her face that buried all her other emotions behind the mask she wore. "All right, girls. You all should go in your room. The officer here will show you the path. Breakfast will be offered in your rooms. Have some rest for the day. Good bye, now."

"What about Maxon? America?" Kriss asked. Celeste seconded it by adding, "Have any news come of his location?"

Clarkson answered them this time. "I am sure Maxon will be fine wherever he is. Knowing him, he must have found one of the safe room. You needn't worry. You all go and take rest for the day." He stood up and gave Amberly his hand. She took it, her light grip on his hand showing how exhausted she was. He murmured in a whisper so that only she heard, "He's our son, darling. He'll be fine."

"I won't be able to take a breath till we find him, Clarkson."

"I know." He really knew.

He may always take his silence as his indifference, but he loved him. In his own twisted way that was too different for him, he did. But Maxon never understood why he had to be so hard on him, he thought, because of what he grew up as, with and how, he never actually knew how to express his love. His need to do right by their country drove his son away from him. That was his only regret.

After what he did yesterday, that is.

I'd outdone myself last night, he thought again, the events of last night again making their appearance in front of his eyes, It was because of me he wasn't here with me.

Amberly's hand laced with his. "If I find him, I am going to lash it out at him for almost giving us a heartattack."

He gave her a small chuckle. "I know my boy, love. I know he's fine. And it's a good thing you always mean things metaphorically, my love."

"Whatever."

He kissed the top of her head. "I am sure your head must be throbbing by now. Let's get you to your room. Once we get hand on Maxon, we'll send him to you."

He hoped they'll find him soon and all well.

Once in his room, he gave the orders to check every nook and crook of the palace and find their prince, as fast as possible.

Once done, he let out a deep sigh. Please be safe. I will spare America for you, the only thing you have to do is be safe.

There was no news of his son for a good twelve hours.

For the first time he was scared—truly, utterly scared—in a very long time.

He held his wife tight in his arms, murmuring soothing words to her. While his wife cried in terror of losing his son, Clarkson felt he could create a fire so alive just to devour every rebel if his son was harmed. He wasn't worried about his heir, but his son.

His mind stopped working coherently since last night.

That was why it was always better if keep a healthy distance from all your relations.

Just as he was going to relay his wrath on another set of soldiers, footsteps echoed in their room.

It was Justin who barged in. "They found him. He's safe and well. He'll be here in a moment."

Amberly went lax in her husband's arms as she heard the news. She felt Carlson's lips on her hair. "Didn't I tell you not to worry. We Schreaves always find a way to come out unharmed."

For that moment he absorbed the truth of his own words. For that particular moment Maxon's only demand was fulfilled. To have his Dad by his side.

Only he didn't know it.

Clarkson hid his every emotion behind the mask he always wore. He knew what it felt like to be weak. He'd let it consume him for the night, but not anymore.

With the mask, he felt safe.

The mask made it easy for him to concentrate.

It was because of that mask he was able to do one things that he felt the need to do.

If his son wasn't about to throw the Five out, then it was time he gave her an ultimatum.