"So, you want me to talk with him, and not yourself?" Justin confirmed as he leaned back in his chair, looking at me with a puzzled look.

We were sitting in my room, discussing what to do of Juliette's training. Justin had proposed to let her go without any major training, just the basics, but I was against it. If the girl was ready to risk everything for us, then there was no way I was going to let her go without proper security measures.

I had just finished a few chapters of the dozen diaries I had taken out from the hidden library. It had already given me a headache. To think I was once proud of our history... George Illéa had gone crazy with his greed. He wanted to have everything, so he made sure others got nothing to raise their voice. The way he manipulated, twisted things around... the way he used his wife to gain sympathy... the method he used to gain sympathisers for his cause...the way he made certain on his own brother's demise because he wasn't going to let him go this far.

No wonder Father was so set on me reading them. And his temper during America's little stunt made sense now, no matter how complicated it was.

If this was what the Northern rebels were really after, then there was a good chance they already had a good idea of what it contained.

I was tired already, but I hadn't even scratched the tip of the iceberg. There was still so much to know.

But right now I needed a break. So, instead of trying to understand whats and hows of the why of Illéa's founding history, I decided to focus on today's problems.

"Yes. We don't know for sure if he's the right guy to train her, but if he isn't, then I don't want him to have the knowledge that I was asking for it. Loyalty is totally different from discretion. And if father gets any hint of what we're upto... You can do it, don't you?"

He let out a deep breath. "Sure. I'll work on it. What's his name again?"

"I don't remember, but I guess it's Officer Leger. He's new. Mostly serving by the Elites room."

"Which means eager to prove himself."

"True."

"I'll go to it then."

I stood up as well. "Thank you for doing it. I know I always use you to pull off my work—

He gave me a rueful smile. "It's what I do best, Maxon. Playing in the shadows. At least I know no one will catch me there."

"I know. Just like I know I always have to wear a smile on my face no matter what."

"That's the thing about life, Maxon. Once you get used to light, you can't manage in shadows. And when you live in shadows, the light blinds you."

"Why so philosophical today?"

He gave me wink. "Maybe because you're inspiring me..."

I laughed as I threw my pen at him which he easily dodged. "I'll go talk to him. You go find Juliette. Agatha will be sending her here any moment."

Sure enough a knock sounded on my door. Justin said, "My clue to go." And he went out, saying something to Juliette, who was standing there holding a tray of doughnuts, that made her laugh. Justin looked back once and gave me a knowing look. I nodded back. Looking back to the girl, he ruffled her hair and took a doughnut for himself as he made his way.

"Come in, Juliette."

She entered in, placing the tray on my desk. I smiled at her, and motioned for her to sit down. "I know you haven't even had the time to grieve for your parents."

She shook her head. "If I grieve them, I'll never be able to come out, Your Majesty. I need to do something to keep going, and avenging their death seems the right thing."

"I admire your spirit, Juliette." She gave me a timid smile. Shoving the tray in front of her, I told her, "Here, take some."

She picked a doughnut and nibbled slowly. "You know," I murmured conversationally, as I took one myself, "you could say no anytime you want. The moment you say it, no one will ask why or what, just let you go. Okay?"

"I know. But I don't want to." It was good to see her determined.

"Good. Now, we're looking for a guard who'll train you so that you aren't helpless there. If anyone, anyone, touches you or does anything to you, you have every right to throttle him. You do not care for consequences then. Saving yourself should be your first priority rather than thinking about the consequences." She was frowning, so I added, "I have no doubt you'll do just fine." I winked.

She chuckled nervously. "I hope so."

"Good. Sharon will take you under her after a few days. She'll train you the important things you should know—how to make an excuse, how to present yourself, how to talk..."

"How does she know these things?" she questioned, intrigued.

"Her parents worked in FBI when they were alive. And she's training to be an FBI agent."

"She's nice."

I smiled. She was barely sixteen, and still innocent. It seemed ruthless to have such a young girl play an agent for me. But if Sharon had taught me anything, it was how to be ruthless when the time requires of us. "And so many other things." I told her, thinking of my friend, and soon to be my family as well. "She's smart and intelligent. And strict. She won't ever tell you you're doing great, so be aware."

Juliette gave me a girlish grin, showing how really young she was. "She told me I will do great."

"Then she must really believe that. So, are you ready?"

"What if I fail?"

I leaned forward, crossing my hands on the table. "You won't. You're a survivor. You'll fight. And you will help me erase those rebels from Illéa."

"I hope so. I want so."

I gave her another doughnut. "You will. We will work together and fight back. Just like your parents will want you to. Here." I gave her a small burner phone. "It's yours. It has a number already allocated to it. Whenever you want to contact us, you'll call any of us. Our numbers are already inserted in. Everyday you will go to eat hotdogs by the beach, which will be served by Hugo Reid. He's a friend of Justin. Trustworthy. You'll give him information in codes you'll learn by Sharon. If we want to reach you, we'll use him as well. This phone is only for emergency use. Hide it well, and only use it when it's ridiculously urgent. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Do not be scared." This was the first rule.

"I won't." She vowed.

"Good." Standing up, I gave her another envelope. "This contains some money. Use it. It's yours." She looked at me with some unrecognisable emotion as she took the envelope. "I know we're asking so much of you, but we have no other choice, it seems. You are our best shot. I wouldn't be dragging you into this if I had another option other than sitting idly, which I refuse to do."

She smiled. "Father always told you were different than the king."

I swelled with pride at her offhand comment.

"And what do you think?"

"He couldn't be more right."

I ruffled her hair as I gave her a big smile. "Go. You have so much work to do. Such as bringing the rebels to their knees "

She grinned again, eager. "Thank you for your generosity, Your Majesty."

"Thank you for agreeing to it, Juliette. All the best."

.

.

.

It was late night when I completed my letter to Shalom Singer. It was nothing but a thank you letter.

America always tells me how she is so much like you. But there is one thing she hadn't learnt from you. To not let her caste define her. Here we are, maintaining a penmanship, a prince and my Elite's father, and then there's your daughter.

Since the day she has come here, she has always succeeded in finding an excuse to relay how she doesn't belong here. As comical as her excuses are, her idea of not belonging here is quite infuriating. Because she has let it come again and again between us.

I know it sounds brazen, writing you about how your daughter screwed up or how I messed it up where your daughter was concerned, but it feels good to talk about her with someone who knows her just as much as I am getting to know her. To express someone how much I love her.

Yes, sir. I love her.

It shouldn't be like this—you are her father and I've already informed you how I feel about her when I haven't told her yet—but I can't tell her now. It's complicated. But I wanted you the first person to know about my intentions. I know I've already told you once, but then things were strange between us. But now...

I think things have turned around for good.

She was all ready to leave today, but I felt a little selfish. So I stopped her from coming to you. I tell you, I don't feel guilty of that.

I want to give her another chance, Mr. Singer. I want to give us another chance. But for that, I need your help.

America had never felt like this, but I know she will be a wonderful princess. I know you also believe that. But she doesn't. She is spontaneous, impulsive, trying to change things on a great scale...but she'll be a wonderful princess. I can keep her here for as long as it takes to make things better for us, but it all will be for naught if she keeps running away whenever it comes about bee being a princess. She has to accept she can be one.

I hope you help me in this.

Look at me, asking you for help for saving my relationship with your daughter.

She listens to you. She looks upto you. If there is anyone who can make her see what she's trying to ignore, it's you.

Please talk to her. But don't tell her I asked you to.

With my deepest sincerities,

Maxon

P.S. I don't mind you calling me son. In fact, if things turn out exactly in my favour, I look forward to officially be your son one day.

Using my personal seal, I sealed the envelope and kept it on the pile that needs to be posted tomorrow.

I was almost finished when Justin barged in. He was supposed to be overlooking Juliette's first day training. If he was here, then...

"Kent German called."

"What happened?"

"He was able to use his contacts again, and learned something. The Southern rebels are planning to attack tomorrow around eleven. Mostly near the women's room, where the Elites are supposed to be training. They're targeting the Elites directly."

"Have you any information on how they'll come?"

"No. He couldn't learn any more."

I nodded. This was more than enough. We could at least be prepared. "I'll look after it. You inform the guards to be extra careful on who comes and who leaves; tell them it's Father's order. And inform Juliette what you learn and how. She'll need to understand it."

"On it."

"Let them come. We won't be unaware anymore."

He grinned his infamous devilish grin. "They want a fight. Then they'll see one."

"Let the game begin."

Long have we remained apprehensive of what to do to be seen as cowards. Now it was our turn to strike back, and we won't be taking any mercy.

Not this time.

It was time the rebels were given a good taste of their own medicine.

This was time for a revelation.

A new start, of a new reign.