Sorry for the long wait! I've been very busy with work and school. **Trigger Warning: this chapter contains physical abuse

Luckily for me, the next day the girls are all occupied with a "challenge" of sorts proposed by Silvia. They are each spending the day as my mother - sitting in on her meetings, attending to her work, helping her plan events, etc. Mother is trying to see who isn't just a pretty face, but who actually has the ability to handle the pressures of ruling a kingdom. She's hoping the results will help me to narrow down the Elite to a final three.

This gives me a fairly large amount of free time. I have a few miscellaneous things to attend to, but I still have some private time. I take lunch in bedroom and reread the book I found yesterday, The Secrets of our Universe. Sadly, nothing more turns up aside from the mere mention of mermaids possibly existing. I flip the book closed and an idea arises. I quickly look up the author's name - Liana Amani - and find that she has multiple other books published. One of them grabs my attention immediately: Underneath the Blue. The cover depicts the dark depth of the ocean and I swear, though it could be a trick of the eye, there is the tip of a mermaid tail in the background. I could be wrong, but my skin is itching with nerves. I immediately call upon one of my servants.

"Benjamin?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"I'm looking for a book."

"A book? Well, you know we don't-"

"Yes, I know. But it's of great importance. One of the . . . Elite girls is very fond of reading, and I'd like to get her a gift. There's a book I think she'd be quite interested, but I wouldn't know where to locate it. Do you think you could find it for me?" I'm grateful for the easy lie that slips off of my tongue. Benjamin doesn't even blink.

"Of course, sir. I'll have it sent for immediately!" I tell him the title and the author's name and he practically races off, desperate to please me. I settle back into my chair when my door is flung open. I start to speak but stop when I see my father standing in the doorway, his face lit on fire.

"Father," I gulp.

"Leave us," he commands, cocking his head at the guards who wait anxiously in the doorway. The shut the door gently and we're left alone. Wonderful. "I've heard some rumors, Maxon."

"Yes, father?"

"It seems to me that the girls have been spending an awful lot of time in the Woman's room. Why is that, son?"

"I - I wouldn't know, sir. Perhaps they're bonding." My excuse is weak and I know it. I raise my head a little bit higher, bracing myself for his reaction.

"Or, perhaps it's because their prince - the one's attention they're all pining for - is ignoring them? Maybe it's because they haven't had a date with you in days, weeks even! Maybe it's because you don't seem to even be trying to pick a wife! A queen, Maxon!" he screams, each sentence getting louder and louder as he stalks towards me. I try not to look away but the urge is so strong. "Look at me, son!" he bellows and I snap my eyes back to meet his. "Now. Tomorrow, once the girls' challenge is over, you're going to spend private time with each and every one of them. And then you're going to eliminate half of them. And in a week's time, you're going to choose a bride. Do you understand?" he growls, his voice low and rough, and very intimidating.

"Yes, father."

"Good," he says, stepping back. He straightens his tie, wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead. "Now, if you'd please take off your shirt-"

"Father-"

"It's new, isn't it? From New Asia. Wouldn't want to get it bloodied, now, would you?" he says, flicking the collar of my new shirt with a devious grin.

"Father, please, I'm so-"

"Apologies are for the weak, Maxon. I will not have my son, a prince, the future king of Illéa, be weak. Now take off your shirt," he grunts.

I do as he says, holding my breath, and count down the minutes.

I stumble down to the beach, trudging through the sand while trying not to wince. It's terrible. I feel like I'm sinking into the sand, and the sun burns on me, stings my skin.

When I reach the docks, where a plethora of royal boats are docked, I hastily settle into a tiny little speedboat. I groan as my back hits the back of the boat, the sting of contact making me flinch. I take a deep breath and start the motor, headed towards the caves. I'm not sure if America will be there, but I'm praying that she will be.

"Mer? Are you in here?" I call, hoping desperately that's she here. I maneuver the boat through the twisted cave, thankful I was smart enough to bring a flashlight to guide myself. I've only ever been in the caves in complete darkness - it's interesting to see them with a hint of light.

The mouth of the cave closes off and the boat will go no further. I shine the light on the murky water, wondering how deep it is. Could I make it without ever having to dip my torso in the water? Unlikely. I suck it up and get ready to slide over the edge, preparing for the sting, when her voice calls to me. "Maxon!"

I sigh with relief and sink back into the comfort of the boat. "Oh, thank god you're here, Ames. I . . . I need your help," I confess as she swims closer to me, her hair glistening scarlet in the flashlight's beam.

"Why are you on a boat? Why didn't you swim?" she asks, confused. She rises up out of the water and hangs on the edge of the speedboat effortlessly. I want so badly to lean over and kiss her, but I'm nearly afraid to move. The ache in my back has only gotten worse from this journey.

"I couldn't swim," I admit. "Not today," I sigh, peeling off my shirt. I gasp as the salty air brushes the fresh wounds, sending a tingling throughout my body. However, the release of the fabric from my skin feels quite nice. I hear America gasp as she takes in the sight of me. Her eyes grow wide with fear as they settle on the bloody red welts that cover my back. A hand moves to her lips and it trembles. I reach out to try to steady it, but I'm too far away.

"Maxon . . . " she whispers, a sob escaping her throat. I hear the silent question in my name - what happened? - but I choose not to answer it. I'm not ready to talk to her about this. Not right now.

"Remember when I cut my leg on that coral and you put that seaweed medicine on it?" I ask. She nods, her face torn between worry and fear. "Any chance you have some more of that?"

America's back in 10 minutes, a shell full of green goo in her hands. I try to get out of the boat, but America protests against it. She knows the salt water will only make the wounds worse. Instead, she maneuvers her way onto the boat. It's a tight squeeze, with her long tail taking up most of the space, but it works. I sit in front of her as she massages the cream into my skin. Her hands, so soft and gentle, easy the throbbing pain in my back. The medicine sinks in and I can already feel my skin healing. America explains that many ocean plants contain curative properties, but humans can't swim deep enough to reach them.

"Ooh, that feels good," I moan as she covers a particularly bad spot. The medicine cools the burn and I already feel 100 times better.

"Almost done," she whispers, her voice soft and shy. She's scared for me, I can tell.

"My father," I reply, though unprompted. I know she's practically dying inside awaiting the answer. "He found out I wasn't spending much time with the Elite. He got angry that I wasn't taking the Selection seriously."

"He . . got angry?" she questions, though she knows the answer.

"I'm fine, America. I don't . . . I don't want you to worry about me." I don't know why I said it, but I felt the need to reassure her.

"Fine? Maxon, your back is torn apart! How could you . . . " Realization dawns on her and her eyes grow wide. "He's done this before, hasn't he?" I nod weakly. "Maxon, you have to tell-"

"Listen, Mer. My father . . . he's not . . . . It's not a big deal, okay? I'm used to it. I just came to you because I can't tell anyone in the castle, and it's hard to treat yourself. I don't want you looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm broken. I'm fine, Mer. I don't want you to pity me, okay? Please, just . . . just forget about this."

She's silent for a long time and I worry she's never going to speak again. What if she hates me now? What if she thinks I'm weak for not fighting back? Or what if she's worried I'll end up just like him if we ever get married? What if she thinks of me as something less, now?

"I learned a new song the other day," she says suddenly, her hands continuing to move up and down the length of my back.

"What?" I say, startled by her outburst.

"My mother taught me a new song. Would you like me to sing it to you?" she whispers, her lips against my ear. I nod, grateful for the change of subject. At least my pride's still somewhat in tact.

She kisses the tip of my ear quickly before leaning back and continuing to work. She sings aloud, a beautiful melody that melts the pain away. I forget my troubles, my father, the selection. The only thing I know is America and her voice.

"She kissed him and held him and gave him her love/ but the sailer was trapped in a world up above. The water, so deep, so blue and so dark / separated their souls and kept them apart," she sings. While her voice is lovelier than ever, the lyrics of the song haunt me. And I can't help thinking that they're about us.

And the thought of that terrifies me.