Chapter 4

Aspen is the one who accompanies me to the palace. For some reason, Celeste is picked up separately but in a way that's better.

All I can do is stare at him as we sit opposite each other in the car, our knees grazing each other every so often. He looks almost the same. His hair is a bit shorter but he's the same Aspen that dropped me at my house seven months ago.

"Mer, I know it's hard-"
"Please don't," I say, walking toward the house Maxon bought, leaving Aspen waiting at the edge of the fencing.

"How's the palace?" I ask, trying to break the obvious tension between us. Even before we started dating, we'd always been able to talk to each other but now it felt awkward and forced.

He shrugs, looking out the tinted glass windows. "It feels empty without twenty or so girls running around but the King and Queen have held so many guests that it basically feels the same." I laugh while he smiles. His green eyes finally meet mine, the edges of them crinkling ever so slightly as he smiles. His eyes rove my face. I try to smile lightly, hide my nerves.

"I've missed you, Mer," he says quietly reminding me that we aren't entirely alone. I want to reach over and touch his hand, to reassure him I don't resent him for what happened, but I can't.

"I started teaching," I tell him. He raises an eyebrow. "It's different and has its challenges but I think I'm kind of good at it." He laughs. "What?"

He pats his chest to slow his laughter. "I don't think you've ever been anything but exceptional at anything you've done, America Singer," he tells me. I roll my eyes.

"Stop it," I warn, slapping his knee playfully.

The car ride to the palace from my apartment is too short. I see the rising pillars and the large hedges as the car drives through the elegant gates. There is a line of cars, no doubt the other girls all arriving. I feel my heart begin to beat frantically. I shouldn't have come. I don't belong here anymore.

Aspen reaches a hand over. "You weren't the only one who came here for his heart, Mer," he reassures me. "Each and every one of these girls came here trying to seduce him and a lot of them probably adopted feelings for him." I look over at him, at his short black hair and the piercing green eyes that I used to love. I nod and try to swallow the lump in my throat. I can do this. It's just like day one.

The cars in front begin to drive away, off to wherever the palace hoards them, and our car drives forward in a line behind the rest. Cameras are flashing and filming the cars and the girls who step out of them frantically. I can't see Kriss or Maxon, just hoards of photographers and camera crews.

The car stops in front of the palace and I finally see Kriss standing in front of the King and Queen, her fingers interlaced with Maxon's. My heart stops for a moment. He looks the same but so different. His suit is impeccably clean and polished, his blonde hair pushed back in a more stylistic fashion than I ever remembered. He smiles with his teeth at the car but still looks uptight, like the Maxon from the broadcast before the Selection.

I look back at Aspen as the door swings open and he gives me a final look of reassurance. I take a deep breath and let my legs slide out of the car. I'm grateful for Celeste's fashion sense today. She leant me an emerald green dress that hugs my soft curves and compliments my fiery hair that she attempted to style with an abundance of pins and elastics.

I step out of the car, careful not to fall over and watch as cameras flash all around me. I try to ignore the flash and look to Kriss. She's gorgeous in a midnight blue day dress, her dark hair tied up on the top of her head. She looks like a queen. Her smile widens as her eyes fall on me.

I hear Aspen close the car door behind me, but I focus on my friend. I walk toward her and she immediately envelops me in a hug. I close my eyes and breath in her smell. Why does she smell so lovely?

"Thank you," she whispers in my ear, reminding me of the last time we saw each other. She releases me and I look to Maxon. His smile seems strained as he takes in my appearance which immediately lets me know Kriss didn't tell him I would be in attendance. I try to smile at him, aware of the cameras all around us. He nods and reaches for my hand reaching it to his lips and planting a light kiss on the top of it. I try to keep my neutral smiling face on, ignoring the warmth of his hand and his lips against my hand.

He lets my hand drop and nods at me like an acquaintance which is all we are now. I push away the tears that are now threatening to spill over.

The King looks down at me with a careful eye, unsure what I might do. I try to bury my fear of this man as I look instead to his wife. Amberly looks at me like a mother looks at her child. I smile at her warm face and curtsy her and King Clarkson. This all feels so familiar, as if I never left the palace. I walk into the main foyer, past everyone and see all the girls I left behind seven months ago.

Celeste isn't here yet, but it seems like everyone else is, even Ashley who left on the first day. All the girls are talking to various members of the press, cameras up right in their faces, none of them looking over to see my arrival.

"America," I hear a familiar voice and the ever more familiar clopping of high heeled shoes approaching me.

"Silvia?" I say. She shushes me quickly and grabs my shoulders, pushing me toward an interviewer.

"Talk," is her only instruction as she runs away in a different direction. I look at the young reporter, a small lady whose hair seems strained by the amount of gel shoving it back.

She pulls out her pen and paper and starts talking a million miles a minute, asking questions about the other girls, how I'm feeling about being back at the palace, Maxon and most of all, gossip about the other girls.

I roll my eyes at half of her questions.

"So," she starts, asking yet another question. "Your relationship with Celeste during the Selection was, catty to say the least, do you think there'll be much drama about a reunion with her?" she asks, and I almost burst out laughing.

"Actually," I tell her, "what you guys didn't see at the end of the Selection was Celeste and I resolving our issues. We actually live together now." The shock on the woman's face is obvious as she tries to process that Celeste and I could possibly be friends. She shakes her head and looks back at her paper for the next question.

She taps the pen against her book and smirks. "You were the runner up in our little competition for Prince Maxon's heart but ultimately, he chose his real true love Kriss." I start rolling my eyes before she even finishes the question. "Are there any hard feelings between you and Kriss or even you and Maxon."

I look over to where Celeste is finally entering and give her a quick wave, miming shooting myself in the head. She smirks before Silvia captures her and shoves her toward an older male interviewer. "It was, as you said, a competition for Prince Maxon's heart so it was his decision and I can't fault either of them for being, obviously, more compatible." The reporter looks disappointed with the answer. "What do you want me to say? That I want to gouge out Kriss' eyeballs and eat Maxon's liver?" I scoff. "I entered the competition knowing full well Maxon could reject me at any time, I just got to be the lucky girl who was there till the end."

The woman looks annoyed but still jots down a few points in her book.

"I'm going to wrap this up with a final question," the woman says. I stop myself from sighing in relief; the cameras have already captured enough of my bad attitude. "How's your love life been since leaving the Selection? Are there any boys back home that have caught your fancy?" Of course. It's all people would want to know, isn't it?

I look up toward the ceiling and touch a stray piece of my hair as I answer, drawing it out for the suspense I know viewers want. "There's no one in particular as of yet but I have my eye out. I never knew there were so many catches around." I wink at the camera before turning around and walking away from that insufferable woman and her ridiculous questions.

A few of the other girls are standing around chatting in a corner. Ashley stands among them with Tiny and Natalie. Natalie is thinner than she was in the Selection, if that's even possible. Her dark circles stand out beneath the layers of concealer that are an obvious attempt to hide them. The death of her sister must have really taken a toll on her.

Ashley sees me first and smiles lightly, waving. "America! I didn't know you were coming," she says as I get closer to the group. I raise an eyebrow, surprised that the timid girl I met on the first day would be so forward.

"All of the Selected were invited, were they not?" I respond, tugging at the bottom of my dress. In true Celeste fashion, the dress is shorter than I would usually choose to wear, exposing my legs up to my mid-thigh.

Ashley bites her lip. She was one of the first to go and probably never spoke to Kriss, I don't know why she would be invited if she thought I wasn't.

"I just thought with the whole drama between you two at the end…" she trails off. I furrow my brows at her.

"What drama, Ashley?" I ask, my voice raising in pitch as my frustration levels soar. First the nosey reporter now poor, timid Ashley questioning me being here.

Natalie puts up a hand. "Don't attack Ashley, America," she interjects. "We all saw that you and Kriss got a bit feisty towards the end, don't try to pretend you don't resent her for getting Maxon." I roll my eyes for what feels like the twentieth time today.

I think about retorting, about telling them all to shove their opinions to places the sun doesn't shine but I bite my tongue, trying to quell my rising temper. We're here to celebrate Kriss' birthday, not fight about old news.

I walk away and find Aspen to guide me back to my room, ignoring their whispers as I walk away.

My room isn't my room. The wallpaper has been repainted a grey colour and the furniture has all been rearranged and removed. The piano no longer sits in the corner and the bookshelf is filled with different books. The closets are bare, no clothes hanging on the hangers as they used to. Even the bathroom looks different without the mess I used to make in there.

Aspen leaves after making sure I'm okay after my rather confrontational arrival. I walk towards the bed and fall into the soft mattress. It feels like heaven, so unlike the bed I sleep in at the apartment.

I want to cry and scream and laugh. Why did I think coming back here was a good idea? Why did I think people wouldn't question how I'm feeling before I can even process my own emotions?

I sit up, taking deep breaths. Kriss party isn't until tomorrow night so I don't have to worry about getting ready for a party in a few hours but I'm sure they have something planned for us.

A soft knock sounds at the door causing my head to jerk up in alarm.

"Come in," I beckon curiously, quickly standing up and brushing down my skirt. Kriss steps through the door, pulling at her own skirt. I let a breath release and try to calm my heart. It's just Kriss.

She walks further into the room, her posture awkward. I wonder how she's feeling about all this. Everyone who wanted to marry her fiancé back to sleeping in the same rooms.

"Hi," I greet, fiddling with my hands awkwardly. She smiles lightly.

"I didn't want to intrude," she says, "I just wanted to see you alone. It's a bit overwhelming down there." I nod in agreement. She laughs. "I'm sure you never imagined being here again, in this room." Her eyes meet mine.

I look around the familiar yet unfamiliar room. "It looks different," I tell her, vocalising my thoughts. She nods.

"Maxon had it redesigned after you left," she meets my eyes again and I can read the underlying message: mine was the only room he redesigned.

I bite my lip and try to ignore the surge of emotions and the urge to cry. "How are you feeling about this all?" I ask her. "Is it weird that all of these girls once wanted to marry your fiancé?" She chuckles.

"It's a bit weird but it's nice seeing all of you again." She touches one of her curls. "It was getting a bit boring around here just seeing Maxon's face all the time." I laugh, imagining seeing his face every day.

"At least he has a nice face," I joke to which she laughs again. It's nice, laughing with her again. It makes me want to tell her everything that's happened, every time I've cried when a royal broadcast showed up on television, every time Elliot made me almost wet myself as I laughed at his unconventional jokes and the past two weeks meeting Jasper but I can't.

I walk over to the balcony door, pushing away memories of standing here with Maxon, watching him prowl around the gardens at ungodly hours. "We're good, aren't we, America?" Kriss asks, her voice getting further and further with every step. I put my hand against the door and nod. I hear a sigh of relief escape her mouth and I smile.

She clears her throat. "There's been a few staff changes since the Selection ended but Anne, Mary and Lucy were all more than happy to return to your station when I mentioned that you'd be coming back for the party." I whip my head around and watch as three figures step through the still open doors.

Mary, Anne and Lucy all stand huddled together, tears spilling from their faces as they enter the room, rushing forward to pull me into a group hug. I return the hug enthusiastically, briefly registering Kriss leaving the room, closing the door lightly behind her.

Anne is the first to leave the hug, brushing away her tears but keeping her warm smile plastered on her face.

"It's so lovely to see you, My Lady," Mary says, curtsying. I shush her and quickly pull her up from the curtsy, looking at the other to, warning them against doing anything of the sort.

"I'm not a Lady anymore," I tell them. I grab Lucy's hand and drag her to the bed. I take a seat and motion for the rest of them to follow. "How are you guys? What have they got you doing since I left?" I ask.

Mary fiddles with her hands and Anne looks pointedly at the ground. It's Lucy who finally speaks. "Lady Kriss requested us as her personal ladies after you left but she's letting us wait on you while you and the other girls are here."

So Kriss did take my maids after I left, just as she said she would. I try not to stifle at the thought. It would be a big promotion for the three of them.

I get the rundown on what's been happening since I left. Apparently, Mary is seeing one of the gardeners, but she won't let on who.

"Don't listen to them," she scolds, swatting Lucy's shoulder. "They don't know what they're talking about." Despite her assurance it's not true, her cheeks flash redder than my hair which makes Lucy and Anne squeal in delight.

I smile as I relish in the moment with my old maids. It feels so familiar yet so distant, like I'm here but I'm also not. So, I smile, and try to keep up with their stories of the palace, refreshed by the lack of the prince's and his fiancé's names.

Dinner is held in the dining hall at seven which means my maids have to quickly pull together my appearance, lacing my hair with different beads and pins and painting my face to hide the marks of weariness from my face.

The dress is not one they made for me but one that was designed for Kriss who turned it down immediately.

"She didn't like that it was white and lacy," Anne explains, her voice taking on a slight tone of resentment. "She thought it was made for a girl not for a queen which is understandable." She smiles at me through the mirror as she zips it up. "But that just means that you get to wear it."

Lucy smirks. "It looks better on you than it did on her," she whispers to which Anne swats her away.

"You can't say things like that about the future queen," she scolds but Lucy just rolls her eyes.

The dress hugs my body tight, accentuating my slight figure. The slit in the dress rises high into my thigh but the lifted neckline returns its dignity. They've styled my hair in a loose ponytail with tendrils of red framing my face, matching my red painted lips and lightly lined eyes. I look nothing like myself. I look like a woman whose stepped right out of Celeste's fashion magazines.

I give them a twirl so they can admire their work before bidding them goodbye and rushing out the door. Aspen is waiting outside, his hand lifted to knock on the door. He looks at me in surprise before his green eyes look down my body. He smirks.

"You look great, Mer," he whispers. I smile, closing the door lightly behind me. I wonder if he's here to see one of my maids. I move out of the way, gesturing towards the door.

"They're all in there," I tell him, smiling. It feels weird to look at Aspen without being in love with him. Nice but weird. It's like I feel like I should want to kiss him every time I see him, but I don't.

He clears his throat. "I'm actually here to collect you for dinner," he tells me. I cock an eyebrow at him. I never had an escort to dinner before. He notices my confusion and explains. "It's been a bit unsettled here recently and with Kriss birthday being so televised, they want to make sure everyone is extra safe." He holds out his arm for me to hold. I wrap my hand in the crook of his elbow and nod as he takes me down to dinner.

To say that the table is full is an understatement. Girls are basically sitting on each other to fit at the long table. Food is brought out by hoards of servers as the girls continue to file in. Each seat has a placeholder with a different girl's name on it in calligraphy. I do three full rounds around the table before I find my own name.

My seat is toward the end of the table where I know Maxon and Kriss will be sitting at. Queen Amberly is already seated on the other side, talking with a few of the girls who left early on in the competition. She looks as regal as ever in a deep burgundy gown, her crown resting lightly on her head. I look away before she can catch me staring and look to the girls around me. They are all girls who left so early on that I didn't have the chance to properly meet. I smile at each of them as we all sit awkwardly. None of them try to make conversation with anyone, all of them keeping to themselves. I consider starting a conversation with them but decide against it. I don't want to be bombarded with the same intrusive questions I was subject to this morning.

The large doors to the dining room open, revealing Kriss and Maxon, arm in arm, smiling as they make their way to my end of the table. I want to curl up in a ball and disappear. I know the seating was planned strategically, it's no coincidence that I'm seated up here. I'm sure Kriss did it as some harmless way to check that I'm not trying to steal her fiancé.

Celeste is sitting at the other end of the table, gossiping with some of the girls. She's probably telling them about her new modelling contract of that celebrity she had coffee with last week. I wish I was sitting at that end of the table, listening to boresome babbling rather than being confronted with the one thing I wished to avoid this whole trip.

The girls around me stiffen as Maxon and Kriss approach. They were barely here long enough to get to know any of us and probably feel as awkward as I do. They might even resent Maxon for sending them home so early or feel embarrassed in his presence. He must feel the same as his smile falters ever so slightly as he looks at them. He refuses to look at where I am though I know he must have seen me. Kriss smiles brightly and sits herself right beside me. I return her smile lightly.

"This is so perfect!" she exclaims. She turns to Maxon who is still settling in his seat. "Isn't this so perfect?" Maxon smiles.

"So perfect."

Kriss starts some introductions with the girls around me, asking about their new lives and how they are. She can't possibly remember any of them, but she makes it seem like she's known them their whole lives.

The doors to the dining room open one last time to reveal the King stepping through the door. I try not to flinch at the look of him, pushing away the picture of Maxon's back. In a way, I'm glad he didn't choose me; I can't begin to imagine how those scars would have multiplied if he had.

The King sits opposite his wife who looks at him adoringly. He gives her a quick smile before piling his plate with food.

Everyone at the table begins serving themselves. I scan the table for a plate of those strawberry tarts but there doesn't seem to be any. I bury my disappointment as I dish some chicken and vegetables on my plate.

"Remember that first meal we all had?" Kriss asks, surprising me. My hand freezes over my plate, the spoon clutched in my fingers cold against my skin. I nod slowly.

"What about it?" I ask, turning the spoon over and letting the peas spill over my plate.

"Remember how you and Maxon made that bet? Well of course you do?" she laughs. Was Kriss always this…happy?

Maxon coughs into his napkin, smiling. "I think everyone remembers that, my dear." I try not to flinch at the name. I never liked him calling me that pet name, but it hurts to hear him say it to someone else.

"Shush," Kriss defends, laying her hand on his shoulder. I continue serving my plate with a pleasant smile on my face. "What if you made another one, for old times sake. Except make it less…flirty." I look at Maxon, grateful that I'd just put the serving spoon down or else I would have dropped it in the middle of the table. He avoids my gaze, instead staring at Kriss with amusement.

"Why don't I make a bet with you, darling?" Another pet name. The flinch is harder to conceal this time.

"What bet could you make with me, Maxon?" she retorts, playfully slapping him. "I wouldn't have anything worthwhile to win. I already have you."

I want to vomit.

Maxon finally looks at me, his eyes void of any emotion. "Fine." I look down at my plate, grabbing my fork and stabbing my food with it.

"If America can finish her meal before I can, she can go home with a lifetimes worth of strawberry tarts," he challenges, "but if I finish first she has to perform for everyone in the gardens tomorrow." I stop the food on its way to my mouth to glare at Maxon.

"You want me to prepare a song by tomorrow?" I ask him. He smiles lightly, keeping his brown eyes on mine.

"Only if you lose," he dares. I shake my head smiling,

"Deal," I say only a millisecond before shovelling my food in my mouth. Maxon follows suit, foregoing a knife and fork. I can hear Kriss giggle in delight and feel the incredulous stares as everyone at the table watches Maxon and I shovelling food down our throats like animals.

Maxon has every advantage of having the superhuman eating abilities every male seems to have but he forgets to remember that I have two brothers who too often would challenge me to similar competitions.

I don't look up to see his progress, only continue shovelling the food in my mouth until my plate is cleared. I keep my head close to my plate and wipe my mouth discreetly, clearing it of any mess that I might have made.

I look up at Maxon who sits with a pleased look on his face in front of his empty plate. Kriss kisses his cheek, a proud look on her face and I know in that moment I've lost. I shrug my shoulders, only slightly soured by my loss and applaud Maxon with the rest of the table.

He smirks and does an extravagant hand bow. Kriss giggles at his side and the sight of them together so happy makes me sick but I don't let my smile faulter for even a second. I look over to where Celeste sits. She's watching me carefully, her eyes widening in question. She saw how I reacted when I got home, she lived through the weeks after.

I look away from Celeste's watchful stare before I cry again. Maxon finally looks over to me and his pleased grin cracks. I know he can see in my eyes how I'm feeling. I want to reach up and tug my ear lightly, our subtle sign, but I can't. He's engaged to Kriss, they're to be married.

I cough into my napkin and stand up quickly. "Eating so fast has upset my stomach, I think," I say, laughing lightly. "I think I'm going to head to bed if that's alright."

Kriss looks at me concerned but knowingly. "Do you need someone to come up with you? A guard to make sure you make it to your rooms?" Celeste starts to push out her chair, but I shoot her a look.

"No, I'll be fine, don't stress the guards," I assure her, never letting my gaze flit over to Maxon.

Kriss smiles warmly before I turn on my heel and walk out of the dining hall, not letting my face fall until I reach my rooms.