I got this idea from the preface of Michelle Obama's book, Becoming, because she is so good at storytelling. Based on just the preface alone, I would recommend the book to anyone.
You guys probably expected me to publish another chapter in a month's time but, to be honest, my other fandom is giving me depression so I decided to come here. This chapter has a bit of a different format, but I'm proud of it :)
Photo #109: Undying Love For Her King
Eadlyn has seen this kind of photo multiple times and doesn't even doubt about seeing it again somewhere on the wall. It is definitely a common theme amongst the photos, even if the two centres of attention aren't in every photo. This photo, in particular, has her parents at another one of those fancy parties where they're all dressed up. Her father is looking past the camera, happily saying something to someone behind the camera as he holds her mother close to him by the small of her back. Meanwhile, her mother looks up at him while leaning into his body with the most loving look in her eyes, bright smile on her face, and hand resting on her chest.
Eadlyn can't imagine having such a public relationship like her parents did. That was one of the reasons why she was against a Selection for herself. She didn't fancy the idea of having a relationship with her lover be constantly gawked at or criticized. She's seen all the horrible reports about her mother during her Selection being repeated today by some outlets, and it reminds Eadlyn of the awful ones about herself. But that is what happens when you have this lifestyle: everyone sees what's presented and have the right to comment on it. Sometimes, their words are critical but other times, they're only opinions.
But seeing the smile on her mother's face and who she's looking at, all of the hardships was totally worth it for her.
-o-
America blinks rapidly, needing to readjust her eyes after the bright camera flash. Speckles of different colours fill her sightline before fading away. Then when the kaleidoscope in her eyes disappears, she can properly see the extravagant gala she was attending with Maxon who still stands by her side.
"I will catch up with you in a moment," Maxon whispers into her hair.
America nods as he kisses the side of her head and she watches him go. America keeps her eyes on Maxon who just so happens to blend in with the other men of the room with their dark suits. Instantly, the prestige of the environment sucks her in and she finds herself as the centre of attention within a group of the high-class wives. Unlike their male counterparts, their dresses all vary in colour, style, and accessory pairings. Not to mention the obvious: they're all more mature than them.
As their conversations go on with glasses of the bubbliest champagne sits in their hands. The rims stained with lipstick prints that were darker the less champagne was in the glass. If someone was to tell her that just over a year ago, she would have this type of life now, she wouldn't believe you. She could barely believe that she was in this room, wearing a pair of earrings that cost more than her entire lifestyle before The Selection.
America still couldn't believe her new title, her new lifestyle. She's been a Six, a selected, an elite, a bride, a sister, an aunt, a daughter torn up by grief for so many people. And recently, she became the Queen of Illéa - a job that's not officially a job, but nonetheless, it's an important role because it's the foundation of the country. Many would argue that the queen is the backbone of the king, especially now compared to the past days where the Queen only produced the future heirs. At the heart of her confusion was a kind of fear, because as much as she didn't choose to get involved, she was getting sucked in. She's been Mrs. Schreave for six months, but it's starting to mean something different. She's the Queen of Illéa, the wife of a King who always speaks of hope and change.
Like Maxon, everyone wanted to talk to her. Everyone wanted to get a personal conversation with the new King and Queen of Illéa. And considering that this was one of their first major public appearances ever since their wedding and coronation, so everyone wanted to get their word in. Even though she hasn't been the Queen for long, she's been in the public eye long enough to notice that when you're high on the social ladder, Illéa shows itself in its extremes. She's been to fundraisers in private homes that don't look lived in when the houses she's visited back in Carolina sometimes didn't have working electricity. She's encountered people who were hypocritical and two-dimensional versus people who would do anything to help others even if they don't have the basic necessities for their own survival. Her first few months as Queen gave her a glimpse of something she has always been on the other end of: privilege and connections.
A part of her is grateful that being in The Selection prepared her for this new world.
"Have you started your duties as queen, yet?" A woman asks her.
America looks at her with a small but happy smile. "It's a lot of training, events to attend, and meetings to be present in, but we're getting there."
She takes another sip of her champagne, making sure that her lips land on the part of the glass where her precious mark was. That was to make sure the glass didn't look like a mess. (One of the lessons in her monarch training).
She reluctantly stepped into public life long before she was Maxon's wife because she was only a Selected. She has been held up as the Queen, the most powerful woman in the world. But they would sometimes bring up her Selection days and burn her down as a"fiery" woman who will set Illéa to flames during her reign. Regardless of whatever she did, she was going to get picked on. It's unavoidable. She's learned the hard way that her every move, facial expression, and the minute details of every outfit she wore would be read, analyzed, and interpreted in a million different ways.
She's been hurt by those words. She's been furious.
But she's smiled them away because none of that mattered. Another part of her was grateful that she was criticized heavily during her Selection because it gave her the tough skin to face whatever comments will inevitably come her way.
And, at the end of the day, she has her husband by her side. If anything, he was debatably in the spotlight more than her. She's smiled with people who have called her husband horrible things or disagreed with his seemingly progressive and impossible policies.
Maxon makes eye contact with her and excuses himself from the men he was talking to. America mirrors his action with the women and starts walking over to him. They meet in the middle and he pulls her off to the side.
"How are you doing with all this?" Maxon whispers to her, holding one hand on her waist, wrapping around.
America looks up at him and smiles. Her love for him is so over the top yet also exactly right. No one could understand the love she has for him, not even Maxon himself. There's a difference between loving someone from afar versus up close. When you love someone up close, you see the real them and they see the real you.
"I'm doing great," America replies softly, matching the tone of his voice.
I did not expect this chapter to be sort of like a character study, but I love it.
