Chapter 4

I am trying so hard to make these chapters long but… UGH! It's hard. Anyway, enjoy.

Maxon POV

I feel like screaming. So much work, too much pressure. Kriss is not helping. She keeps pestering me about the wedding. Like, woman give me some space. It's so infuriating. One day I'm going to crack and scream at everybody. I'm just waiting.

Certain thoughts keep popping up. Do I love America?

Kriss keeps asking me to move up the wedding.

The advisors yell at me.

JUST TOO MUCH PRESSURE.

They don't understand my position. America did. I always told her how no one listened to my opinions and she sympathized with me. Of course, now, everyone must listen to me, but not like how I want them to. I'm staring at the wall of my bedroom. It's blank. I used to have pictures of my sweet, beautiful, darling America. But I tore it down. Every picture, every memory, gone. I hid them all in a box, in my closet, far, far, away from me. And along with them my camera. Nothing in this world is deemed beautiful enough now to take a photo, a memory. America took it all with her. Along with my heart. I sniffed. I didn't realize I was crying. Do I love America?

I shook my head to rid myself of these thoughts. I took a glance sideways, and subconsciously looked at the clock. I took another glance. Dammit, I'm late for my photoshoot with Kriss! I stumbled a bit in my haste to get out my room, but I made it to the hallway unscathed. I walked in the gallery to see Kriss calmly chatting with the photographer. "Maxon!" Kriss said, speaking through gritted teeth. "Your late." She forced a smile. I mumbled an apology and turned to the photographer. "Where do you want us?" He led us to a set of low couches, and we sat down. "What happened?" Kriss asked, smiling at the camera. "Why were you late?" I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, even though I didn't want to. It's all for the camera. "Work," I whispered. Kriss huffed, but didn't complain. The photographer smiled at us and instructed us to move our position every so often.

After the session, I was about to leave the room, but Kriss stopped. "Maxon, don't forget, we have a meeting with the wedding planner," she said. "Don't be late." I inwardly groaned. Another one?

America POV

I keep wondering if Maxon will write back. Of course, I stopped writing to Maxon, fearful of what May will do next. May came running in my room when I was reading. I was irritated because she knows not to bother me when I'm reading, and always to knock. "What, May?" I asked, groaning and covering my eyes. "Maxon and Kriss are going to get married in one month!" she exclaimed. I rolled my eyes. "And?" I asked, looking at her. She pouted. "Sorry America." I shrugged and continued reading. May came closer. "Why do you do that?" she asked. I looked at her again. "Do what?" She studied me with her blue eyes. "Every time you care about something, like really care, you shut it out. Why?" I remember once Maxon told me almost the same thing. I guess I really do do that. I shrugged again. "He chose Kriss. I'm okay with that." May gave me a sympathetic look and walked out.

Later, we were eating dinner and Mom kept trying to lighten the mood but miserably failing. Mom and May kept giving each other glances. Finally, I got fed up with it. I put down my fork rather forcefully. "What? What is it?" May glanced at Mom again. Mom opened her mouth to say something but then just then shouts came from the front door. Mom gasped as someone knocked open the door. I quickly grabbed Gerad who was right next to me and held him close. Mom did the same with May. Strong looking people walked in. My mind made the connections. Rebels. I've seen them before. I couldn't process this correctly as I watched them start yelling at us. A man pried May away from Mom then tied them both up. He hit Mom on the side of her head and she conked out. He did the same with May. "No!" I screamed as someone pulled Gerad from my arms. I heard him start crying but the rebel told him to shut up, and thank goodness, he did. He was tied up and hit in the head too, but blood was pouring out of his head. The rebel's started laughing and grabbed me. I screamed and tried to wiggle out of their grip but they were too strong. I cursed at them and called them names. One stopped laughing and slapped me hard across my face. I think he split my lip. I spat at him, which made him angrier. He roared and pushed me down hard, and I hit the floor, and liquid dribbled down my chin. Blood, I think, from my nose. Another rebel, the leader I suppose, hit him in the back of his head. "She's valuable, stupid! Don't damage the treasure," he said, angry. They were going to keep us alive? Because we are valuable? To who? Maxon? I certainly understood that. The other rebel grumbled but muttered, "Fine." and tied me up. "Night, night," he cackled and hit my head with his gun.

Maxon POV

I flopped down on my bed. The day's work was done, and I could finally relax. I didn't even want to take off my suit; I was so tired. I could hear Kriss moving around in the princess suite and I hoped she wouldn't come in and ruin my relaxation. She didn't. I noticed a paper sticking out of my perfect pile of paperwork. My eye twitched. I worked so hard to keep them all straight and here they are, messed up by one small paper. What a drag. I groaned and got up, my back aching. I sighed and pulled out the paper, but realized it wasn't a paper at all. It was a photo. Of America. I remember this day. It was a candid I took of her the day the Swendish royal family visited. America didn't know I took that picture. I smiled remembering that day. America was laughing about something, and I thought she looked so beautiful, with the sunlight shining through her hair, it looked like she was glowing. She was the only one that stood out. I couldn't resist so I had grabbed my camera and snapped a picture before the moment was over. Do I love America?

Someone knocked rapidly on my door. I groaned again. I opened the door, ticked off. There was a guard outside with an urgent expression on his face. "What is it now?" I asked, trying sound as polite as possible.

"We just received a message from the rebels. We couldn't track it, but the message is clear. Sir, the rebels have captured Lady America and her family. They have not killed them, but they are demanding money for their safety. They gave you a deadline of a week."

"How much money?" I asked quietly. "Ten billion dollars, Your Majesty," answered the guard. Of course, I wouldn't hesitate to rescue America, but money was the problem. Sure, I had a lot of money, but not like that. I mean, I could pay them, but what about everyone else? I sighed. "I guess we pay them," I said. The guard's eyes widened. "Are you sure, Your Majesty?" he asked, surprised. I nodded and rubbed my eyes. I would have to stop purchasing extremely expensive items for a while, but it will be worth it. I couldn't just let America and her family die. I couldn't just let anyone die. I kept trying to convince myself that I didn't just pay for a ransom because I love America, but because I'm a gentleman and I wouldn't let anything happen to anyone.

The next morning, I found out that America's family had to come to the palace to thank me for "saving them." I feared seeing America's face. She would try to look suave and confident, but her eyes would betray her and I would see the pleading in them. And I would fall in love all over again. I told Kriss about the ransom and she looked so shocked, it looked fake. I wondered what was going on with her. It must be pre-wedding weirdness.

I straightened my suit for the millionth time, standing at the end of the Great Room, waiting for America and her family to arrive. Finally, the doors opened, and my heart sped up. But first wasn't America, it was America's mother. Magda, I believe was her name. I drew myself up to my full height and watched as she approached. She stepped right in front of me and bowed deeply. "Thank you, King Maxon, for saving my life," she said, tears in her eyes. Then she walked away slowly. Next was May, America's sister. She quickly bowed and said, "Thank you, King Maxon, for saving my life." She didn't make eye contact. I suppose she hates me now. A little boy walked in. This must be Gerad, America's younger brother. He obviously didn't know how to bow and tried, but fell over. He stood up, his face red, and thanked me. Then he ran to his mother. Then America walked in. My breath caught in my throat. Even now, in a dirty shirt and ripped jeans, she looked beautiful. I noticed stitches on her head, right where her hair line is. Her lip is cut, but not bleeding. I tried not to look concerned.

She walked up to me and bowed. She stood up to her full height too and looked me straight in the eye. I was right from earlier. She looked, confident, uncaring, but grateful at the same time. But her eyes said everything.

And I fell in love all over again.

"Thank you, King Maxon, for saving my life," she said. On her last word her voice cracked and tears filled her eyes. She covered her mouth with her hand, turned, and ran from me. She left the room, her family following. I could hear her sobs echoing through the hallways. My heart broke again, and pain filled my chest. I ran too, tears spilling from my eyes. I pushed past guards until I reached my room. I slammed the door, locked it, then went to the door to Kriss's room and locked it too. And I let myself cry. I tried to hate America but her beautiful, tear stained face reminded me that I make her cry all the time. I have no reason to hate her. And I remembered what America had told me in her letter: My dear, love will carry you farther than hate ever could. If that was true, then I was experiencing two things at once.

Love and hate.

I gasped as a sudden thought hit me like a train. I pulled out a paper and started answering the question I have been asking myself for days. Do I love America?

And I do.

America POV

I ran out of the Great Room, through the familiar halls of the palace. My family followed. I hit the main entrance and couldn't make it any further. I collapsed on the ground and sobbed. Why did he look so distant? His expression did not change whatsoever. My mother came and cuddled me from my right, May on my other side. Poor Gerad behind me, awkwardly standing there watching me cry. "Hush, baby, it's alright," Mom said, rubbing my back. May was fully embracing me and crying too. I felt like screaming. Why do I let myself get hurt? With Aspen, with Maxon, who else? Why, why, do I do that? I imagine a future together, then they leave. I make too many mistakes, it's time to finally let go. Stop trying. Love is so overrated.

Mom and May help me up and I wipe my tears away. I need to stop crying over him. He's made me cry too many times.