The next morning at breakfast, everyone is fairly subdued. The attack obviously caused a lack of sleep, but it is tenser than that. Amy, Tallulah, and Fiona are conspicuously absent, and I assume that they are the three that Maxon was talking about last night. We all pick at our food, sipping orange juice and tea. Hardly anyone looks up even when Maxon walks in, but for some reason, just knowing he is in the room calms me. He catches my eye as he walks to the head table to greet his parents and gives me a weak smile.

Maxon is looking around the room, watching each one of the Selected intently. He looks pained, and I wonder what's going on. His mother rubs her hand on his back, and he relaxes a bit, but he still looks like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. He leans down and whispers to Queen for a moment, and she rests her hand on his cheek. I can almost forget that it is the Royal family of Illèa, not just a mother lending strength to her son.

I watch them discreetly, wondering if this has to do with us, or with the rebels.

I find out that it's a little bit of both.

Maxon closes his eyes for a moment, steeling himself for something, and then stands abruptly, scraping his chair on the marble floor. He winces, and looks like he wants to sit back down, but he has all of our attention now.

He clears his throat. "Ladies," he says, inclining his head to us. He looks pained. "I'm afraid that after yesterday's attack, I've been forced to seriously reconsider that operation of the Selection. As you know, three ladies asked to leave yesterday, and I obliged. I wouldn't want anyone here against their will. Furthermore, I don't feel comfortable keeping anyone in the palace, facing this constant threat of danger, when I feel confident that we don't have any sort of future together."

Soft murmurs break out among us. Tiny, sitting next to me, gasps in horror. "He's not…"

"He is," I answer softly, unsure about how I feel about this.

"Though it grieves me to do this, I have discussed the matter with my family and a few close advisors and have decided to narrow the Selection down to the Elite," Maxon continues. "However, instead of ten, I've decided to send all but six of you home."

"Six?" Kriss gasps.

"That's not fair," Tiny breathes, sounding like she is in tears already.

I look around the room and notice that everyone is preparing themselves differently. Marlee looks as pale as a sheet. Bariel has her fingers crossed, with a demure look across her face, though it is also very tight. Celeste looks ready to fight someone for her spot.

"I don't wish to draw this on unnecessarily, so only the following ladies will be staying. Lady Marlee and Lady Kriss," Maxon says clearly. Despite our conversation last night, I am suddenly very nervous. Who knows what his father thinks of me, or what his advisors want for the next queen of our country? My palms begin to sweat, and I look down at my lap, unable to look at anyone.

"Lady Natalie and Lady Celeste," he continues. My breath hitches. There are fifteen girls left in the room unsure of their status, and thirteen of them are going home in minutes. I can't be one of them.

"Lady Elise."

I want to cry. If he was going to keep me, he would have said it already, wouldn't he? He wouldn't do this to me if he wanted me.

"Lady America."

I want to sob, I am so relieved. As it is, I nearly collapse onto the table. Tiny does both, and won't accept my attempts to comfort her.

Maxon sighs. "To everyone else, I'm incredibly sorry, but I hope you trust me when I say that I mean this to be a good thing for you. I don't want to raise anyone's hopes for no reason and risk your life in the process. If anyone who is leaving wants to speak to me, I'll be in the library down the hall, and you may visit me as soon as you finish eating."

Maxon nearly runs out of the dining room, not noticing Aspen at the door, who is staring at me with unspeakable pain in his eyes. I try to think of a way to comfort him, but I can't. I know that I want Maxon, and I think that Aspen knows it too. I just don't know if I can live without Aspen, too.

Suddenly I realize that I am one of the Elite. Who knew when I entered that it would go this far? I'm in love with the Crown Prince of Illèa, and I don't know what to do about it.

~PtG~

"No, no," Queen Amberly answers with a laugh. "I only had three bridesmaids, though Clarkson's mother suggested I have more. I just wanted my sisters and my best friend, who, coincidentally, I'd met during the Selection."

I peek over at Marlee and am happy to find she was looking at me too. Before I arrived at the palace, I had assumed that with this being such a high stakes competition, there'd be no way any of the girls would be friendly. Marlee had embraced me the first time we met, and we'd been there for each other from that moment on. With a single almost- example, we've never even had an argument.

A few weeks ago, Marlee had mentioned that she didn't think she wanted to be with Maxon. When I'd pushed her to explain, she clammed up. She wasn't mad at me, I knew that, but those days of silence before we'd let it go were lonely.

"I want seven," Kriss says. "I mean, if Maxon chooses me and I get to have a big wedding."

"Well, I won't have bridesmaids," Celeste says, countering Kriss. "They're just distracting. And since it would be televised, I want all eyes on me."

I fume. It is rare that we all get to sit and talk with Queen Amberly, and here Celeste is, being a brat and ruining it.

"I'd want to incorporate some of my culture's traditions into my wedding," Elise adds quietly. "Girls back in New Asia use a lot of red in their ceremonies, and the groom has to bring gifts to the bride's friends to reward them for letting her marry him."

Kriss pipes up. "Remind me to be in your wedding party. I love presents!"

"Me, too!" Marlee exclaims.

"Lady America, you've been awfully quiet," Queen Amberly says. "What do you want at your wedding?"

I blush because I am completely unprepared to comment.

There is only one wedding I've ever imagined, and it was going to take place at the Province of Carolina Services Office after an exhausting amount of paperwork.

"Well, the one thing I've thought about is having my dad give me away, You know when he takes your hand and puts in the hand of the person you marry? That's the only part I've ever really wanted." Embarrassingly enough, it was true.

"But everyone does that," Celeste complains. "That's not even original."

I should be mad that she called me out, but I merely shrug. "I want to know that my dad completely approves of my choice on the day it really matters."

"That's nice," Natalie says, sipping her tea and looking out the window.

Queen Amberly laughs lightly. "I certainly hope he approves. No matter who he is." She adds the last words quickly, catching herself implying that I would be Maxon's choice.

I wonder if she thinks that; if Maxon has told her about us.

Shortly after, the wedding talk dies down, and the queen leaves to go work in her room. Celeste turns the TV on while Marlee and I settle on a small couch, and the others bring out a card game.

"That was fun," Marlee says. "I don't think I've ever heard the queen talk so much."

"She's excited, I think," I comment. I think about what Adele told me when she was here, about the queen protecting herself from loving us like her children, then losing all but one of us.

"Okay, you have to tell me," Marlee says, leaning forward with sparkling eyes. "Do you honestly not have any other plans for your wedding or did you just not want to share?"

"I really don't," I say, embarrassed. "I'm a Five, you know? There was never a possibility of a big wedding, so I never planned for one."

"Well, you're a Three now," Marlee says. "And even if Maxon doesn't choose you, all of the other girls who have gone home have married well. They all had pretty big weddings." Here my heart stutters, which surprises me, but I don't have the energy to sort through my feelings.

Marlee shifts in her seat for a moment. "Excuse me for a moment, I'm going to go to the restroom."

"I was just thinking the same thing. Do you want to go together?" I offer.

Marlee shakes her head with a smile. "No, you go ahead. I'll finish my tea first."

I shrug, and walk out of the Women's Room. I marvel at how different I am then when I first came here. I wanted to leave so badly, but I had to stay. I couldn't deal with being so close to Aspen.

I let out a sharp laugh. That worked well, I think to myself.

I still can't leave. Now, though, it's because I can't be away from Maxon. Even being away from him for a day makes me a little crazy.

I know it's Maxon. I know that I'm in love with him. But how can I lose Aspen?

As I turn the corner to the restroom, wondering what's holding me back, I run into a guard, and I find myself hoping that it both is and is not Aspen.

The guard catches me, and I look up, and it is not Aspen.

"Oh!" I exclaim as I stand and straighten my skirts. "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"No harm done, my lady," he says with a quick bow. "Just doing my job."

"Well, thank you, Officer…"

"Woodwork, ma'am."

I roll my eyes at the formality. "Well, let's hope the next time I run into you it's not quite so literal."

He chuckles. "Very well, miss. Have a nice day."

"You, too!" I call as I walk further down the hall.

When I return, I warn Marlee of Officer Woodwork, and she laughs.

We spend the rest of the day by the windows, chatting together and drinking in the sunshine. I try not to think of how quickly the day when we won't be living under the same roof is approaching.

~PtG~

I'm sitting at my desk in my room, the doors to the hall and the balcony thrown wide open. Anne, Lucy, and Mary are sewing something or cleaning, and I am poring over some military report that all of the Elite will be tested on. I don't understand any of it.

"Anne," I say lazily, leaning back in my chair.

"Yes, my lady," she says looking up with a smile, and the other girls stop what they are doing as well.

"I command you to figure out what this report means," I say, vaguely gesturing towards the papers.

Anne laughs softly, "Sorry, miss, but I don't think that I'll be much help." We are both joking, but I hear the true apology in her voice.

I groan, and turn my head back to my task, biting at my pen and trying to concentrate. All of the graphs and charts swim before my eyes. I don't know exactly what all of it means, but I think it's bad. I pore over what little I can understand, and I hear Lucy laugh softly beside me. I look up, eager for a distraction no matter how small, and I look up to see Maxon leaning against the door frame.

"You gave me away," he complains to Lucy.

"Maxon!" I dash into his arms, relishing his embrace. "You read my mind."

"Did I?"

"Please tell me we can go outside? Just for a little bit?"

Maxon laughs, winding my arm through his. "Only for a bit, I have to be back in twenty minutes." He nods to my maids, and pulls me out the door.

We walk down to the gardens, and Maxon shifts my arm to hold my hand. A thrill runs down my spine at this- it seems more affectionate than our arms being linked. I curl my other hand around his arm, and I feel closer to him than I ever have.

"What are these?" Maxon asks, examining my fingertips.

"Calluses," I say nervously, aware that no one he has ever known would have had them. "They're from practicing violin so much."

"I've never noticed them before," he says, thinking about something.

"Do they bother you?"

"Quite the opposite," Maxon says with a shy smile, kissing my fingertips. "I find them quite beautiful."

I flush.

"I've seen the world," he continues. "But I've seen it all from behind bulletproof glass. I've seen almost every court in the world, but I've seen nothing of those countries that isn't court. I really haven't even seen that much of my own country. But these…" he says with a smile. "They remind me that you're real. We're real. You're not a girl trying to win the crown. You're… America. And when I'm with you, I'm not a prince trying to run a country, I'm just Maxon. I may hold the answers to a thousand questions, and these remind me that, as many answers as I have, you have the only one I want. The only one I need, and you're the only one that can give it to me." He finishes his speech passionately, but not angrily, taking both of my hands in his and looking me deeply in the eyes "America, I- I've implied this before, but you should know for sure. As soon as you decide you want me, it's over. You're the only one I want, the only one I will ever want. Tell me you love me, and it's done," he pleads.

I lean my forehead beneath his collar bone, just above his heart, listening to its steady beat. He wraps his arms around me. "Just a little more time, Maxon."

"I know. I'm prepared to wait," he says softly.

"So," I say, stepping back, wanting to lighten the mood. I take him hand again so he knows I'm not mad. "Answers to a thousand questions, hm?"

Maxon smiles. "Of course. Ask me anything, and I either know or can find out."

I tilt my head, wondering what I could ask him. I think about an old history book that my father had, and things I wondered about from there.

"What is Halloween?" I ask.

Maxon freezes. "I have no idea."

I laugh.

Maxon sucks in a breath and looks at his watch. "I have no idea," he repeats. "But I think I know where we can find out."