Chapter 3
So, I'm trying to publish as fast as I can, because I don't want to let you guys down. These chapters can be short but I'm trying the best I can, so bear with me. If you see any mistakes, leave a review.
May POV
America is so sad. I'm going to do something about it. Today I snuck into America's room and found her letter. I think it's beautiful. I made a meeting with Mrs. Leger to ask her for help. She's the only person I can trust with this. I knocked on her door quickly, looking around to see if anyone is watching. Nope, the coast is clear. Mrs. Leger opened the door and I walked in quickly. "Hi Mrs. Leger." I quickly explained what we needed to do. She agreed. What we are going to do is mail America's letter to King Maxon. We hope it will make him see that him and America are meant to be. Mrs. Leger found an envelope and we put the letter inside. She put a stamp on it and signed it. Then we stuck the envelope into the mailbox. I took a deep breath, and gave a quick little prayer to God that the letter gets to the palace fast enough.
Maxon POV
More deskwork. I tried putting on soothing music, tried taking a soothing bath, but nothing worked. I kept wondering if America watched the Report last night. No, of course not. And if she did, why should you care? A knock at the door. I leaned back and called out, "Come in." A maid walked in with a silver platter. "Your Majesty, a letter came in from Carolina." Carolina? Isn't that where America came from? Nevertheless, I took the letter and thanked the maid. She curtsied and walked out. I looked at the envelope. It was from another person, Lena Leger. It wasn't America's handwriting either. I opened it.
Dear Maxon,
I know this is a bit too late, but I'm sorry. I want to start simple. Suddenly every single song I hear is about you. I don't know why, but I'm attracted to you in ways I can't explain. I'm always thinking that I have met someone who's smile could make flowers grow. You. Do you ever think about the first time we met and think about where we are now? And it's like wow, who knew this would happen? Me begging for you to take me back. Because I still love you Maxon. I never thought not once in my life I would be in this position. And it's not like me, Maxon, but you make me a different person. A good person. And I like the change. I know this is probably something you would tell me, but, my dear, love will carry you farther than hate ever could. I need to know if you still love me. Because I miss your hugs. I miss your kisses. And sometimes I write these dumb love letters to you because it feels like I'm talking to you. And then reality hits me and I realize you aren't here so I can tug my ear. And I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye at the party, but you were so distant, I forgot you were there at all. And you're a good guy, you really are. You've hurt me and you've broken my heart, but you're genuinely a good guy. There's so many times when I would be crying or upset and I knew I was able to go to you because you knew exactly what to say. You always knew how to make me feel better and you're so caring. I've never met someone that could say one thing and make the whole room smile within an instant, until I met you, of course. I'm pretty sure after all the hurt you put me through, I should hate you. Weirdly enough, I couldn't hate you, even if I tried. And I was looking through an old magazine, when I found of picture you. Of us. Laughing. It made me smile because it reminded me of me and you, of what we used to be. But then I cried because we will never be the same again. I miss you so much it hurts. I'm just sad because I really loved you, more than I've loved anyone in a long time. Tonight, I got slapped in the face with the reality that I'll never be able to call you mine and that it isn't a very big deal to you. Just because we don't talk anymore, doesn't mean that I've forgotten about you. It doesn't mean that I no longer care. Truth is, I still do. I do my best to check up on you, to see how you're doing. To see if you're okay, but every time I get the urge to talk to you, it suddenly hits me that, we're strangers, you don't want me in your life, hence the reason why I'm no longer a part of you. But, even though everything's changed; I just want you to know that, I'm still here. I'll still be here for you. I'll still lend you my shoulders and ears. I don't care what time it is, what I'm doing. Don't hesitate to talk to me, because half the time, I wish that you were talking to me. I just really miss your presence, I miss you being my best friend. I just miss you in general. And Maxon, you can tell a lot about a person by the things they run from and the people they run to. I understand if you don't love me anymore, given the things I've done and said, but I just couldn't live this life without telling you how I still feel. I love you, Maxon.
Love,
America Singer
Wow. I tried not to cry, but America's words were so beautiful. During all these days I had forgotten how it felt to be in America's arms, but now I can remember it clearly. But then I was angry. Why would she write to me? I'm the king! I can get her executed if I want! And then I softened. I couldn't do that to America. Not ever. Do I still love America? And if I did, what would I do about it? And Kriss…she was a part of this too. Would I leave Kriss for America? Would I leave America for Kriss? Whichever direction I turn, someone is going to get hurt. Maybe I should write a letter to America? I got out a sheet of paper. I wanted to write down exactly what I felt, but somehow the paper felt empty, and I could not have described it any better. In the end I decided that sending a letter to America would give her hope, and as of right now, I not sure what I'm going to do. I sighed. What a long day.
I ate dinner, then I got ready for bed. As I was slipping under the covers, an image of America popped into my head. Then I pushed it out, remembering Mother's words. The last person you think about before going to bed, that's who your heart belongs to. But try as I may, Kriss's image kept getting pushed out by America's image. It's not possible…is it?
America POV
I flopped down on my bed. Horrible day today. I went to a Two's house. She called me a horrible pianist and violinist. Her exact words were: "You are horrible piano player! And you make a beautiful violin sound like it's dying! How the hell did you even get in the Selection anyway?!" Ugh. Someone knocked on my bedroom door. "What?" I called out. May came in. She looks nervous. I sat up. "May, what's wrong?" I asked. She bit her lip. "I did something," she responded, not looking at me. "What did you do? Did you get in trouble?" I'm confused now. "No, I didn't get in trouble, but I'm pretty sure I will," she whispered. "What did you do, May?" I was getting irritated now. "I sent your letter, the one you wrote to Maxon." I jumped up. "What?!" I grabbed May's tiny shoulders. "May, that letter is a love letter! I could get killed!" May shook her head. "I will just keep telling you, America, you're meant to be!" I crossed my arms. "Keep telling yourself that," I said, then pushed May to the side and walked out of my room.
Maxon POV
I can't stop thinking about America. And then Kriss is insisting we move the wedding date up, but I don't want to and I'm not sure why. I just have this feeling. Today the tailor came to measure me to make my suit for the wedding. He was asking me about the arrangement of medals that will be across my chest when I remembered what America had said about them. I gave a half smile and mumbled, "You should hang me with the chandeliers." The tailor stopped. "Excuse me, sir?" I shook my head. "Nothing."
I wondered what Kriss was doing. I stopped the tailor and asked him, "Are you almost done?" He nodded. After he was done, I stepped the pedestal and move towards the princess's suite, Kriss's room. Sometimes I get sad because I knew I had reserved that room solely for the woman I love. And I know I don't love Kriss. I like her, but I don't love her. My heart aches thinking of the woman I did love. I remember I used to stare at that room, and imagine her there, laughing at me. Sleeping, playing the piano, the violin, just there. I'm too ashamed to even say her name. I walk in and see a different tailor working on Kriss. Kriss catches sight of me and gasps. "Maxon!" she exclaims. She stops the tailor and steps off the pedestal. "What a surprise! I thought you'd be in there longer." I smiled. Kriss waved me over. "My maids put on new perfume. I think it's too strong, so I wanted your opinion." I remembered America had told me almost the same thing. I leaned closer to take a sniff but I didn't get as close as I once did with America. "Nope, it smells wonderful," I said. Kriss smiled and nodded.
The tailor walked over to us. She bowed. "Your Majesty, I need the measurements for her head, we need to know the size of the crown for the coronation." I nodded. Kriss smiled apologetically and stepped back on the pedestal. I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and walked away. "Oh, and Maxon?" called out Kriss. I turned around. "Yes?" She smiled. "Are we still having a private dinner tonight?" Oh yeah, I forgot. We had discussed it, wait, no, she just came up with the idea and asked me about it. I remember just mumbling a yes or something. I gave a fake smile and nodded. "Yes, of course, I'm looking forward to it." What a lie.
Dinner was, in so little words, awful. Even the food was horrible. Kriss was all bubbles and clearly, she was happy. I wasn't. There is something about her that I can't read. What is my problem? Just because America had sent me a dumb little love letter, doesn't mean it should affect me like this. But there really was something off in Kriss as I was studying her. There was a glint in her eyes and I wasn't sure what it meant.
After dinner was over, Kriss and I were walking in the gardens. I was kind of miffed because I only shared this place with America, and I wasn't sure I was ready to share it with someone else. But Kriss insisted, and whatever the woman says goes, I suppose. "Maxon?" Kriss asked, looking up at me. "Yes?" Kriss gave a half smile. "You seem out of it today. What's wrong?" she said, holding me closer. It wasn't the most comfortable position for me. I shrugged, which I don't do. I'm the king. I have perfect posture. "I guess I don't feel like talking today." I tried for an apologetic face. "Mm," Kriss nodded and laid her head on my shoulder. I wanted to wiggle out of her grip, but I knew it would look wrong. The only person I have ever felt comfortable with like this is America, but unfortunately, she isn't here.