A/N: This is a longer chapter. As a conservative estimate, I'd say it's 80% fluff. You're welcome? Also, it's a few hours early, so you're welcome for that too. I'm just, like, the best person ever. You're welcome for my existence. Thanks for reading!

(I'm kidding, obviously.)

I knock on Maxon's door and it flies open, but I'm greeted by the lens of his camera. It clicks a still of my shocked smile. My expression dissolves into something that expresses how unamused I am by this little stunt, and he captures that, too, laughing.

"You're ridiculous. Let me in," I order. He gives me a sweeping bow, opening the door wider so I can walk through, lifting my nose in the air, haughty as I can be.

Maxon closes the door and snaps a picture of that.

"Cut it out!" I try to grab the camera, but he simply holds his arm up out of my reach and sets it on a shelf with his others.

We both climb onto his bed and I curl into his side after putting my ring on. He kisses me softly for a few moments, leaving me breathless.

"Hello," Maxon says, wrapping his arms around me.

"Hi," I say. "How was your trip?"

"Odd, actually," Maxon frowns. "We ended up going to a rural part of New Asia. Father said it was some local dispute; but by the time we got there, everything was fine." He shakes his head. "Honestly, it made no sense. We spent a few days walking through old cities and trying to speak to the natives. Father is quite disappointed with my grasp of the language and is insisting I study more. As if I'm not doing enough these days," he says with a sigh.

"That is kind of strange."

"I'm guessing it was some sort of test. He's been throwing them at me randomly lately, and I don't always know they're happening. Maybe this was about decision making or dealing with the unexpected. I'm not sure." He shrugs his shoulders. "Either way, I'm sure I failed."

He fidgets with my hand for a moment, staring down at the ring on my finger. "He also really wanted to talk about you. If I'm sure about everything."

I'm not sure what to say. "Oh. Um- how did that go?"

He shrugs again. "I told him there was no point. I've made my choice, and it's only out of consideration for him and the crown that I haven't announced it yet. He doesn't love the idea, but he doesn't hate it either, which I think is the best we can do."

"Well, Kriss is in love with you too, so that's an option," I tease.

He scoffs. "No, she's not."

"Yep." I say, popping the 'p'. "She told me."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. She wanted to have a real heart to heart."

"What did you tell her?" Maxon asks hesitantly.

"I just said that I needed things to stay vague. That I didn't want to know about your relationship with her. I do think you should think about telling her, though."

"What?" Maxon pulls his head back to look at me. "Ames, you know we can't do that."

"I don't mean tell her you proposed already. But she begged me to tell her if you ever tell me you've made a decision, and I think maybe we should," I explain. "I almost feel bad for her."

Maxon laughs. "That's a new one."

I look up at him and try to arrange an expression that is as overly syrupy-sweet as I can possibly make it. "But, sweetheart, how could I fault her for falling in love with you?"

Maxon laughs his loud, wheezy laugh for a long time, which then makes me laugh, and we dissolve into hysterics.

"How, indeed?" Maxon finally rasps out, wiping tears from his eyes. "Maybe in a week or two?" he suggests.

I nod, shoulders still shaking a bit. "I can live with that."

"Other than that, how have you been? Did you enjoy having a break from me?" Maxon pokes me in the side, making me giggle a bit. I like playful Maxon.

"Not really," I pout. "I was more worried about you than anything."

"Really?" Maxon perks up. "You thought about me?"

"Of course I did," I say simply. "It would be highly inconvenient for you to die on me." I roll over so that I'm partially lying on him, punctuating my words with a quick kiss.

Maxon's hand sneaks around to pinch my hip before winding around my waist. "I got you something."

"You didn't have to do that," I say, thinking of Kriss saying no one had ever given him anything.

"I know, but I wanted to," he says simply, reaching into his nightstand and pulling out a soft white bag. He loosens the strings and a beautiful little bracelet spills into his palm.

"Oh," I breathe, gently caressing the light blue stones. They are cold and smooth and wonderful. Maxon ties it around my wrist, the beads clicking together. He kisses my hand before returning to our previous position, then tangles his hand in my hair.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"Of course, love," he says softly.

"Maxon?"

"Hm?"

"Do you ever- I mean, do you wish- Are you mad-"

"What happened?" he says with a smile.

"I just- when I was talking to Kriss, she was telling me about the card she gave you, and she said that you liked it because none of us had given you anything, and I feel bad-"

"Oh, Ames, no," Maxon says seriously. "Not even a little bit-"

"I just didn't even think- what could I possibly give you-"

"You agreed to marry me. That's everything I need," he says.

"But is it everything you want?" I press. "Because if there's something I can do for you, I want to-"

"Ames, stop," Maxon says, holding me close. "You are everything I want. Obviously, yes, there are things I want, like new cameras and chocolate cake, but they don't mean anything if I don't have you. You… I can't even explain it. The crown, this palace, I don't care about any of it if I can't share it with you. I don't know how you managed to turn my world around in a matter of months, but if I ever… if you ever- without you, I'm just going through the motions. You are entirely singular; now that I know how happy I can be with you, I could never settle for anything less."

I'm crying, so I can't speak, not that I have words to say anyways. I force him to sit up so I can crawl into his lap and cling to him. He wraps his arms around me, pressing kisses anywhere he can reach, which only makes me cry harder. Eventually, he gets concerned.

"Ames, are you okay?" he asks, looking down at me.

I nod, frantically trying to calm myself. "I love you."

I can't see his face, but I know his expression nonetheless. He is smiling softly, so happy it takes him a moment to say it back. But he does.

"Maxon?" I say after another minute of happy silence.

"Yes, darling?"

"Stop bringing Kriss to your room. We're going to live here together; let it be ours."

"Ah, she told you about that, did she?"

"Yeah. She also told me that you want to kiss her, but she won't let you."

"Well, we both know that's not true," Maxon says with a laugh. "I won't bring her here, I understand. And agree, frankly. I didn't think about it when I asked her to stay, but it was uncomfortable after awhile. We just sat at the table," he tells me.

"Good." My eyelids flutter shut and I try to force them open. I'm just barely successful. "I should go back."

"No," Maxon moans, winding his arms fully around me, pinning my body to his chest.

I laugh. "We can't keep doing this, I have to sleep in my own room sometimes."

"You did. For the last three days."

I wiggle out of his embrace, giving him a kiss to soften the blow. "Goodnight, Maxon."

Maxon groans again, rolling off his bed. He stands and offers me his arm.

"You don't think I can make it twenty feet to the door?" I say with an eyebrow arched.

"I don't think I can watch you walk that far away from me," he says gallantly. I laugh, loop my arm through his, and walk to the door.

"Okay, Maxon," I laugh as he tries to pull me backwards. "Goodnight."

He pouts, but lets me go. "See you in the morning."

"See you in the morning," I agree. He trails his fingers down my arm as I walk away, hooking our fingers together at the last possible second, before letting me walk back to my room.

I turn back before I round a corner, and he's still leaning against his door, watching me leave. I blow him a kiss and he grins, pretending to tuck it into his pocket. I don't stop grinning until I fall asleep, and even then, I find myself still smiling when I wake up the next morning.

~PtG~

It's almost too easy. Maxon spends most of his time with his father, doing his best to learn how to be a good King, even though Clarkson outright refuses to actually teach him anything. No, constantly belittling Maxon in front of all the advisors is the way to teach him. Then at least Maxon will go running to his father every time something even remotely challenging comes up, because Maxon won't know anything-

Anyways.

That's his plan, at least. Or we think it is. Maxon isn't sure he would be that calculating, but admits it's a theory with merit. I'm not looking forward to living with him as a father-in-law, but I think he just wants power. Hopefully he'll leave us alone.

"Elise?" Natalie calls out from her seat by the window. I glance up, grateful for the distraction from my thoughts. Those are a distraction from the budget report Silvia wants me to familiarize myself with, but they aren't exactly productive.

Elise purses her lips, but I only notice because I'm sitting right across from her. "I'm not going to ask, Natalie. I've told you that already."

"But one of us is going to be queen!" she presses. "We should know."

"And once one of us is queen, I'm sure Maxon will tell us everything we need to know," Elise says, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Maxon has only been back from New Asia for a week, and Natalie can't stop talking about it. Maxon let slip that the trip didn't make any sense when the two of them were on a date the day after he got back and Natalie has made it her life's mission to find out why. She's been trying to get Elise to write to her relatives in New Asia to see if anything made the news there.

Celeste rolls her eyes. "Who cares? They're alive and uninjured, move on."

I grit my teeth. I guess it's more than I expected of her, to care if Maxon gets hurt, but still. Just because they aren't physically hurt doesn't mean that nothing went wrong.

Just then, a maid comes in with a note for Celeste. She reads it and grins, but it's more intimidating than anything. Which is what she wants, I suppose.

"I'm off to see Maxon," she announces, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I won't be mentioning New Asia. I'm sure we'll be… occupied with other things," she drawls.

Elise's face twists in mild revulsion, Natalie squeaks, and Kriss looks heartbroken. I think I manage to remain neutral, but I'm not sure how successful I am. Afterall, I know she's lying. And I knew about her date before she did. Not that I can tell anyone that.

"Do you think he really… does that? With her?" Natalie asks timidly, much changed from just a few moments ago.

"No," I say firmly, surprising myself. They all turn to me and I blush.

"Do you know something?" Kriss demands, reminding me of our conversation from last week.

I bite my lip and make a decision. "No, not for sure. Maxon just doesn't seem like… that… kind of person. He's too respectful, I guess."

Elise huffs out a laugh. "He may be kinder than I expected, but he's still a man. I might not believe that they've… gone all the way, but I would not be surprised to find their relationship is more… physical than ours with him."

I can't play this game today. It's too much. I stand up and mutter something about going to practice violin. Kriss glances after me, eyes narrowed, but I don't have the patience to think about what she's sad about this time.

I take my time making my way towards the music room, avoiding all the spots that Maxon might be with Celeste. I think I hear him down the hallway towards the movie theater, but I don't slow to find out.

I gently push the door to the music room and take my place at the piano. I play some scales, warming up my voice as well. It's unusual for Fives to accompany themselves, but I don't have an audience here.

Sometimes I forget how much I love playing. Playing for Queen Amberly reminded me. I got really lucky, being a Five. Not everyone would choose their caste, if they were given such a choice. I wouldn't choose the hard parts, of course, but I would choose the music. Every single time, I'd choose music. My dad's like that, I think. He'd choose art, no matter what.

I play through a few of my favorite songs, sometimes singing along if it's a song with a vocal line. I nearly run through my entire repertoire, singing in French, German, and Italian. The irony of the last two is not lost on me, but just because I can sing about a flower dying in German or a woman saying "thanks, but no thanks," to a man in Italian doesn't mean I can hold my own with a full Royal party.

Once my back starts getting sore and my fingers cramp a bit, I stand and stretch. I twist my fingers around each other to loosen them up a bit. I bend down and wrap my arms around my legs, touching my head to my knees. I stand back up and twist my torso around, finally freeing myself of the stiffness that comes from sitting up straight for an extended period of time.

I think about going back to the Women's Room. Glancing at the clock, I see that it's been a little over an hour. Celeste won't be back yet; Maxon was planning on taking her horseback riding so they'll be gone at least another hour. On turning away from the clock standing in the corner of the room, my eyes skip onto the violin case next to a music stand.

I bite my lip. On one hand, I've been here for a long time. I should really go study; Silvia wants me to know all of King Clarkson's advisors and what they do, but I cannot for the life of me find a way to differentiate between them. Maybe Queen Amberly is in the Women's Room, and I could talk to her again.

On the other hand, I'm already standing in front of the case, pulling out a gorgeous violin.

It doesn't fit in the crook of my neck quite as softly as mine at home, and my fingers aren't grooved to fit a bow anymore, but it still feels like an extension of my body. Not quite another limb, but a part of my body nonetheless.

Just like with the piano, I start with some scales to warm up. Soon, my bow is flying over the strings, my fingers dancing over the strings like kids playing in a creek.I play songs of joy, songs of longing, and songs of frustration. I play all of my family's favorites- I know they can't hear me, but I feel closer to them all the same.

Halfway through my favorite piece, a twenty minute concerto, I hear the door behind me shut with a muted click. I whirl around, hiding the instrument behind my back, like that will hide what I've been doing.

Fortunately, I come face to face with Maxon.

"No!" he cries, sitting on a deep sofa and crossing an ankle over his knee.. "Don't stop! I love hearing you play. I was listening from the hallway because I didn't want to disturb you, but that one was too beautiful."

I huff, resting a hand on my hip. "Too late, I can't start a song in the middle, and I was ten minutes into that one. I'm not playing all the way through that again, we don't have time."

Maxon pouts, and I laugh at him. I put the violin away and join him on the sofa, laying my head on his lap to look up at him. His hands immediately find the ends of my hair to twirl and my hands find his free one to play with, much like any other time we are alone together.

"You keep promising to play for me and now that we're in the music room together you won't," he whines playfully.

"Because you don't know the rules!" I tease right back. "Never interrupt a musician in the middle of a song- always wait until they're between pieces."

Maxon sighs and bends to kiss my forehead. "Fine, I'll remember that for next time, as long as next time we are both here, you promise you'll play something for me."

"Pinky promise," I say, intertwining our little fingers.

Maxon's mouth twists into a smirk. "What does that mean?"

"You never pinky promised when you were a kid?" I exclaim.

His eyebrows fold together, lips pursed. "No? Only child and heir to the throne, remember?"

I scramble up to sit on his lap so I can look him in the eyes.

"A pinky promise is sacred," I say solemnly. I pull his hand up to interlock our pinkies again, making sure he sees. "Promises are well and good, but you never break a pinky promise. Ever. For any reason."

"Ah. I see. I'll try that in the next peace treaty I have to negotiate." He's laughing at me, but I don't mind. "Why, exactly?" he asks.

I shrug, falling backwards a bit so I'm leaning against the arm of the sofa, but my legs are still thrown over his. "I dunno. Kota and Kenna taught me when we were kids. They made me pinky promise to do their chores." He moves his hand to my knee, gently rubbing circles on the inside of my leg with his thumb. I just look at him.

He mesmerizes me sometimes. That never happened with Aspen. I was never able to forget what was going on around us. Not even for a second. With Maxon, it seems like that's all that ever happens. I trace my thumb under his eye, where his dark circles are more pronounced than usual.

"Is everything alright?"

Maxon sighs and scrubs a hand across his face. "The Southerners are getting active again. Not that they ever stop, really, but there are more attacks across the country. There doesn't seem to be any pattern right now, but I'm sure it's just one that we're missing."

"Southerners?"

Maxon blows air out his mouth. "I probably shouldn't tell you this much, but it's not like you won't know it all in a few months anyway. Just make sure you don't tell anyone."

"Pinky promise," I say, hooking our fingers together. I sit up a little straighter. "I'm listening."

"It's not complicated, really, just more information than we'd want getting out. There are two camps of rebels. Northern and Southern. The Southern rebels are the violent ones. They resent us for everything that's gone wrong in the southern provinces and want our blood to make up for it." Maxon gazes into the distance and I get another look at the nineteen year old boy who, all too soon, will have the weight of an entire nation on his shoulders. I wrap an arm around him to try to take some of the burden, then he shakes his head and comes back to me.

"The Northern rebels seem to be peaceful," he continues. "They don't kill guards when they can avoid it, and sometimes they even get in and out without being noticed. They just ransack the palace, looking for something, but we don't know what."

"That's who it was when I got lost in the woods," I say suddenly.

"Yes," Maxon says slowly, turning to face me more directly. "How did you know?"

"I saw them," I say a little sheepishly.

"You what?"

"I meant to tell you!" I say defensively. "I just… forgot."

"You forgot to tell me you saw rebels in the woods?" he demands. "They could have killed you, America, do you have any idea what that would do to me?"

I glance down at my hands twisting in my lap. "Something like what would happen to me if you... died, I imagine." I level my gaze at him. "Nothing happened. It was just two of them, a man and a woman. They were carrying a lot of books and I thought they would pass without noticing me up in a tree, but the woman looked up at the last second. She curtsied and then ran. That's it, I swear."

"She curtsied?" Maxon says, his face going from disturbed to confused in an instant.

I nod slowly.

Maxon sighs and drags a hand through his hair. "You should have told me, America."

"I'm sorry," I say. "Really, I am. I didn't hide it on purpose."

He nods. "I know. Just… on a logical side, information like that is important. Now we know they want the books for themselves; they aren't just doing it just to inconvenience us. But the fact that she curtsied… that could tell us something about them. I'm not sure what. It could be that someone leaked that I proposed already, which is unlikely but still possible-"

"No it's not," I say firmly. "The only people that know are your parents, my dad, and Marlee. It wouldn't have been my dad or Marlee, so unless you think the King or Queen of Illéa leaked it-"

"You're right," Maxon says, frustrated now. "You're right. That's not what happened. I wouldn't be surprised if a few advisors know, but they wouldn't let it slip either. It must be something else then. I'll make sure we figure it out, though."

I kiss his cheek and curl into his side, pulling his arm around me. "We'll be alright." I won't let us be anything else.

Maxon first kisses the top of my head then presses his cheek against it. "We will." He lifts his arm to look at his watch. "We will also be late for dinner if we don't leave now."

"Damn, really?" I crane my neck to look back at the clock and, sure enough, I've been here for just over three hours. "Wow, I haven't practiced this much in months. Maybe even a year." I pull my hand from Maxon's to examine my fingertips.

"Ugh," I say. "These are bad. I'm going to have to start practicing everyday again." And that's after resting them for fifteen minutes

"As long as I'm invited," Maxon persists.

I roll my eyes, nudging his chest with my knee. "Fine, every morning at six, I'll be here practicing." I meant to give a ridiculously early time, but as I say it, I realize he's definitely up by six every day.

Maxon sighs heavily. "I'll do my best to get out of meetings, then." He stands and offers me a hand. I take it and straighten my dress. I use the glass of the clock face as a mirror to fix my hair, but refuse his proffered arm.

I loop my arms around his neck and reach up to kiss him gently. Maxon's hands settle on my hips, but he doesn't pull me closer or deepen the kiss. We are content to hold each other and breathe each other's air.

After a moment of beautiful silence, I decide to break it.

"So, how was your date?"

Maxon barks out a laugh and hugs me tightly for just a second before letting me go. "Horrible, I'll have you know." He opens the door for me, and I take his arm when he offers it this time.

"She flirted the entire time. I couldn't get a sentence out of her that wasn't loaded with innuendo," he whispers, guiding us towards the Dining Room.

I laugh. "Serves you right."

Maxon grumbles good-naturedly all the way to dinner, only stopping once we reach the large double doors. We bow or curtsy to the queen and he escorts me to my seat, then greets Natalie. She's the only other one there, other than the queen.

After settling me, Maxon goes to greet his mother, who gives him a warm smile. She whispers something in his ear to make him blush, but I can't tell what it is.

"It must be nice to have him spend so much time with you," Natalie says from the seat next to me.

"No more than anyone else," I shrug, trying to seem casual. "We've only been together for fifteen minutes. He found me in the music room."

"That's what I mean, though," she says sweetly, not seeming jealous at all. I'm not sure if that is concerning or not. "He plans things with all of us, we never run into him and talk, the way you seem to."

"That might be true," I concede as Celeste comes in, closely followed by Kriss. "But he doesn't plan things for us very often, so I think it evens out."

"What are we talking about?" Celeste says, too loud to be polite, but not loud enough to be rude.

"Oh," Natalie blushes, "nothing."

I hide behind my glass of ice water, hoping to escape questioning. Thankfully, Elise comes through the doors and the king follows seconds later, as if he was waiting to be the last. We all stand and curtsy, which he ignores. As usual.

He reaches the head table, but doesn't sit, neither do we.

"Ladies," he booms. "The time has come for you to prove your readiness to become a princess of Illéa. Just as the queen began programs to integrate those who are disabled into our society, so must you have a project of some kind. You will have two weeks to prepare, then you will present your thoughts on the Capital Report. Silvia will be at your disposal, of course, as well as any palace resources you might need."

He takes his seat, and I hear Celeste grumbling. Something about "pointless" and "if anyone had any sense", but I can't catch anything else. Elise wears the same calm expression as always; Kriss looks much the same. Neither of them seem phased. They probably had ideas for this when they applied for the Selection. Elise certainly has an edge with her New Asian connections. Natalie is tucking into her fish; nothing ever gets to her.

I take a deep breath and do my best to emulate Elise and Kriss' unruffled demeanor. Maxon warned me about this, but I still have no idea what I could possibly do. Everything I want to solve is too big. I can't just go up and say "The way our country was built is inherently unfair" and demand we change it. No one would ever accept me as queen after that.

Whatever I come up with, it had better be fantastic.