A/N: So I outlined this fic the other day. I was thinking maybe like 30 chapters total, tops. More like 25, probably. Then I started looking through all the events, and attacks, and everything I want to add. This baby is going to be like 50 chapters long, guys. We're in this for the long haul. We got at least a year left, even if I can keep up with updates after this summer. Anyways, that just shocked me. Enjoy!
"What else have you learned?" Dad asks. I loop my arm through his, still getting used to him in a suit. If I hadn't seen Dad a thousand times in his dirty pain clothes, I could swear he was born to be a One. He looks so young and smart in the formal outfit. He even seems taller.
"I think I told you everything we were taught about our history, how President Wallis was the last leader of what was the United States, and then he led the American State of China. I didn't know about him at all, did you?"
Dad nods. "Your grandpa told me about him. I heard he was a decent guy, but there wasn't much he could do when things got as bad as they did."
I'd only learned the solid truth of the history of Illéa since I've been at the palace. For some reason, the story of our country's origin is mostly passed on orally. I've heard several different things, and none of them is as complete as the education I've received in the last few months.
The United States was invaded at the beginning of the Third World War after they couldn't repay their crippling debt to China. Instead of getting money, which the United States didn't have, the Chinese set up a government here, creating the American State of China and using the Americans as labor.
Eventually the United States rebelled- not only against China, but also against the Russians, who were trying to steal the labor force set up by the Chinese- joining with Canada, Mexico, and several other Latin countries to form one country. That was the Fourth World War, and - while we survived it, became a new country because of it- it was pretty economically devastating.
"Maxon told me that right before the Fourth World War people hardly had anything."
"He's right, It's part of why the caste system is so unfair. No one had much to offer in the way of help in the first place, which is why so many people ended up in the lower castes."
I don't really want to go down this path with Dad, because I know he can get really worked up. He isn't wrong- the castes aren't fair- but this is a happy visit, and I don't want to waste it talking about things we can't change.
"Besides the little history, it's mostly etiquette lessons. We're getting a bit more into diplomacy now. I think we might have to do something with that soon, they're pushing it so hard. The girls who stay will have to anyway."
"Who stay?"
"It turns out one girl will be going home with her family. Maxon's supposed to make an elimination after meeting you all."
"You sound unhappy. Do you think he'll send you home?"
"No," I blush. "Actually, I'm… fairly sure he won't. But I'm close with most of the girls, and I'm not sure who he'll send home. I'll miss her, whichever she is."
"So things are going well?" Dad asks awkwardly.
"Yeah," I smile. "Daddy, I - I think I love him, and I think he loves me too, but I don't know that I would make a good queen. Maxon says I would, but what would you say?" It's a little embarrassing, but I'm not talking about boys, I tell myself firmly. Just getting his opinion on a possible change of vocation.
"Kitten," Daddy starts, "if I'm being truly honest, I've thought about this a lot, since you were chosen. It's a little nerve-racking. Your mother and I have talked about it quite a bit." Dad guides me to one of the benches lining the hallway so we can sit. I am surprised to realize that I am sitting ramrod straight with crossed ankles, like it is second nature.
At least I've absorbed some of Silvia's lessons.
Dad takes both my hands and looks me dead in the eyes. It's almost a little intimidating. "America, you would be a fantastic queen," he says quietly, which I'm grateful for. It would make things awkward if Celeste or Elise overheard this. "I always thought you deserved more than just being in the background at a party.
"I know you don't see much in yourself, but you need to start. We told you for years you were talented, but you didn't believe it until your bookings went up. I remember the day you saw the full week and knew it was because of your voice and the way you play, and you were so proud. It was like you were suddenly aware of everything you could do. And we've said for as long as I can remember that you are beautiful, but I'm not sure you ever truly saw yourself that way until you were picked for the Selection.
"You have it in you to lead, America. You have a good head on your shoulders; you are willing to learn; and, perhaps most importantly, you show compassion. That is something people in this country yearn for more than you know.
"To be frank, sweetheart, if you want the crown, take it. Take it. Because it should be yours. But… but if you don't want that burden, I could never blame you. We would all welcome you home with open arms."
Both of us have tears in our eyes as he presses a kiss to my forehead.
"So, in short, yes, you'd be great," he finishes. We both laugh as I wipe my eyes delicately. "And there's bound to be help coming out your ears, isn't that what all these advisors are for?"
"Yes, technically. We have some lessons, and they said they're going to get more into the details of being queen, since the field is so narrow now. Maxon is a big help, too."
"Is he?" Dad seems happy to hear this.
"Oh, yes, I think it's important to him that we all feel like we could be successful, you know? So he's really great about explaining. He even…" I deliberate. I'm not supposed to mention the book room. But this is my dad. "Listen, you have to promise not to say anything about this."
He chuckles. "The only person I talk to is your mother, and we all know she can't be trusted with a secret, so I promise I won't tell her."
I giggle. Trying to imagine Mom keeping anything to herself is impossible.
"You can trust me, kitten," he says, squeezing my hand.
"There's a room, a secret room, and it's full of books, Dad!" I confess quietly, double-checking to make sure no one was around. "I didn't get to go in, we got- um- distracted," I stammer, remembering when I tripped on top of Maxon. That was when I first realized I loved him, I think. "He told me there are banned books, old history books, even some of Gregory Illéa's personal diaries!"
Dad's mouth drops open before he composes himself. "America, that's incredible. What did it say?"
"Oh, I never saw them. The room had a hidden door and a code, and I didn't go in when Maxon took me. Maybe someday, though."
He considers my words for a moment and shakes his head. "Wow. He really trusts you."
"He'd better," I mutter.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," I say quickly. I am not telling him about Aspen today too.
"So there's a hidden room around here somewhere?" He looks at the walls in a whole new way.
"Daddy, this place is crazy. There are doors and panels everywhere. For all I know, if I tipped this vase, we might fall through a trapdoor."
"Hmm," he said, amused. "I'll be very careful making my way back to my room then."
"Which you should probably do soon. I need to get May ready for tea with the queen."
"Ah, yes, you and your teas with the queen," he jokes. We stand, and he hugs me tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "All right, kitten. Now… how best not to fall into a secret hatch?" he wonders aloud, spreading his arms like a protective shield as he walks.
Once he gets to the stairwell, he tentatively puts his hand on the rail. "Just so you know, this is safe."
"Thanks, Dad." I shake my head and make my way back to my room.
It's difficult not to skip down the halls. I am so happy my family is here, I can hardly stand it. It's going to be harder than ever to be separated from them.
I round the corner to my room and see that the door is open.
"What did he look like?" I hear May ask as I approach.
"Handsome. To me anyway. His hair was kind of wavy, and it never stayed down." May giggles, and so does Lucy as she speaks. "A few times, I actually got to run my fingers through it. I think of that sometimes. Not as much as I used to."
I tiptoe closer, not wanting to disturb them.
"Do you still miss him?" May asks, curious about boys as always.
"Less and less," Lucy admits, a tiny lilt of hope in her voice. "When I got here, I thought I would die from the ache. I kept dreaming up ways to escape the palace and get back to him, but that would never really happen. I couldn't leave my dad, and even if I got outside the walls, there's no way I could have found my way back."
I know a little about Lucy's past, how her family gave themselves as servants to a family of Threes in exchange for the money to pay for an operation for Lucy's mother. Lucy's mom eventually died, and when the mother found out her son was in love with Lucy, she sold Lucy and her father to the palace.
I peek through the door to find May and Lucy on the bed, The balcony doors are open, and the delicious Angeles air wafts in. May fell into the palace look so naturally, her day dress hanging perfectly on her frame as she sits braiding parts of Lucy's hair back and letting the rest fall free. I've never seen Lucy without her hair pulled up tight into a bun. She looks lovely like this, young and carefree.
"What's it like to be in love?" May asks.
Part of me aches. Why hasn't she ever asked me? Then I remember, as far as May knows, I've never been in love.
Lucy's smile is sad. "It's the most wonderful and terrible thing that can ever happen to you," she says simply. "You know that you've found something amazing, and you want to hold on to it forever, and every second after you have it, you fear the moment you might lose it."
I sigh softly. She is absolutely right.
Love is beautiful fear.
I don't want to let myself think too much about losing this, so I walk inside.
"Lucy! Look at you!"
"Do you like it?" She reaches back, touching the delicate braids.
"It's wonderful. May used to braid my hair all the time, too. She's very talented.
May shrugs. "What else was I supposed to do? We couldn't afford to have dolls, so I used Ames instead."
"Well," Lucy says, turning to face her,"while you're here, you will be our little doll. Anne, Mary, and I are going to make you look as pretty as the queen."
May tilts her head. "No one's as pretty as her." Then she quickly turns to me. "Don't tell Mom I said that."
I chuckle. "I won't. For now, though, we have to get ready. It's almost time for tea."
May claps her hands together excitedly and goes to settle in front of the mirror. Lucy pulls her hair up, managing to keep the braids together as she makes her bun, purring her cap on to cover most of it. I can't blame her for wanting it to stay as it was for a little bit longer.
"Oh, a letter came for you, miss," Lucy says, handing an envelope to me with great care.
"Thank you," I reply, unable to keep the shock out of my voice. Most of the people I expect to hear from are currently with me. I tear it open and read the brief note, its deliberate scratch completely familiar.
America,
I have found out belatedly that the families of the Elite were recently invited to the palace, and that Father, Mother, and May have left to visit. I know that Kenna is far too pregnant to travel, and Gerad is much too young. I'm trying to understand why this invitation wasn't extended to me. I'm your brother, America.
My only guess is that Father chose to exclude me. I certainly hope it wasn't you. We are on the edge of great things, you and I. Our positions can be very helpful to each other. If any other special privileges are ever offered to your family, you ought to remember me, America. We can help each other.
Did you happen to mention me to the prince? Just curious.
Write soon.
Kota
I debate crumpling it up and tossing it in the trash. I've hoped Kota might be getting over his caste climbing and learn to be content with the success he has. No such luck, it seems. I throw the letter in the back of a drawer, choosing to forget about it entirely. His jealousy isn't going to spoil this visit.
Lucy rings for Anne and Mary, and we all have a wonderful time getting ready. Mary's effervescent attitude keeps us all in good spirits, and I find myself singing while we dress. Not long after, Mom comes by, asking all of us to double check that she looks all right.
She does, of course. She is shorter and curvier than the queen, but she is every but as regal in her dress, As we walk downstairs, May clutches my arm, looking sad.
"What's wrong? You're excited to meet the queen, aren't you?" I ask.
"I am, it's just…"
"What?"
She sighs. "How am I supposed to go back to khakis after all this?"
~PtG~
The girls are animated, and everyone is speaking with energy. Natalie's sister, Lacey, is about May's age, and they sit in a corner, talking, I can see how Lacey resembles her sister. Physically, they are thin, blond, and lovely. But where May and I are opposites personality-wise, Natalie and Lacey are so similar. I would describe Lacey as a bit less whimsical, however. Not quite as clueless as her sister.
The queen makes her rounds, speaking to all the mothers, asking questions in her sweet way. I am in a small group listening to Elise's mother talk about her family back in New Asia when May tugs on my dress, pulling me away.
"May!" I hiss. "What are you doing? You can't act like that, especially when the queen's present!"
"You have to see!" she insists.
Thank goodness Silvia isn't here. I wouldn't put it past her to admonish May for something like this, even though May doesn't know any better,
We make our way to the window, and May points outside. "Look!"
I peer past the scrubs and fountains and see two figures. The first is my father, speaking with his hands as he either explains or asks something. The second is Maxon, pausing to think before responding. They walk slowly, and sometimes my dad puts his hands in his pockets, or Maxon tucks his behind his back. Whatever this conversation is, it seems intense.
I glance around. The women are all still engrossed with the experience, with the queen herself, and no one seems to notice us.
Maxon stops, stands in front of my father, and speaks deliberately. There is no aggression or anger, but he looks determined. After a pause, Dad holds out his hand. Maxon smiles and shakes it eagerly. A moment later, they both seem lighter, and Dad slaps Maxon on the back. Maxon seems to stiffen a bit at that. He isn't used to being touched. But then Dad puts his arm around Maxon's shoulder, the way he did with me and Kota, the way he did with all his kids. And Maxon seems to like that very much.
"What was that about?" I ask aloud.
May shrugs. "It looked important though."
"It did."
We wait to see if Maxon has a conversation with anyone else's father; but if he does, they don't go to the gardens.