A/N: Thanks for continuing to read. I've been working one my end-of-semester project non-stop, but got to a point where I could reward myself with fun writing. Hope you enjoy this installment!
jthornestudent: Thanks! I hope CH 16 didn't disappoint! :)
Issi Herondale: Thanks for the feedback. Maybe this chapter slows it down a bit?
sushi: Thanks. This piece is a little longer, but I can't promise longer chapters until after June 7. Hope you like it!
Totalbooknerd13: Welcome back! I am looking forward to showing the dynamic between Abrielle and America, too. Kids seem to have that 6th sense when their parents want to be alone. Why would royal ones be any different? Glad I could make you laugh! :)
oreocheesecakes: Thanks so much for your long review. I 'm glad to hear you don't mind the skips in time, because that's exactly why I am using them. Makes me happy to read you're enjoying it! Can't wait to see what you think of this chapter. :)
The Devil Wears Westwood: I know, right? They can't have King Clarkson's buddies roaming the palace with their babies! Thanks for stopping by, always enjoy your comments! :)
Happy reading! SJ
The two weeks before the trip flew by with trainings and meetings and wardrobe fittings. The night before our departure all the kids tumble into our bed while I check through the luggage one last time with Mary. It's an obnoxious amount considering the number of changes we'll have to make depending on event, even though I tried to simplify by only taking certain colors and accessories that will be worn multiple times. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Abrielle and Cal begin a tickle battle with Barrett and Griffin. As is typical of Griffin, he's right in the middle of the action, trying to double-team his sister and shrieking with Cal. Barrett watches from a nest of pillows by the headboard, laughing at the other three, but making sure his ticklish spot-the soles of his feet-are hidden from his siblings. I stop to watch them, knowing these are the moments I'd miss most over the next few weeks.
Mary doesn't try to hide her grin that turns to an all-out laugh. "You do so well letting them be just regular children," she tells me quietly, wiping tears from her eyes. "I can just imagine you, Lady May, Lady Kenna, and Mister Gerad doing the same thing back in Carolina."
"That's because we did, Mary. The only difference is we used to pile on Daddy, and had Kota, too." Thoughts of Kota always came with a pang of guilt, especially since I had practically thrown him out of the family right before Maxon and I were engaged. I had even threatened damage to his hands, which are necessary to his work as a sculptor. I still am a bit embarrassed for how I acted that day, even though my anger and actions were justified. Still, without Dad, there is a hole in our family. Kota wouldn't fill that emptiness any more than Aspen does, but having another to share in the childhood memories… And Mom misses him, even as hateful as he was at the end. When he returned to his apartment, he never came back to the family home. I'm not even sure where he is living now. I give her a little smile, and I can tell she knows I am thinking about my long-lost brother. Thank goodness I don't need to explain my sudden nostalgic expression.
Brie breaks my train of thought by shrieking through the bedroom and into the common room with Cal on her heels and Griffin toddling after. Barrett is in the middle of the bed now, flat on his back laughing with his eyes squeezed shut. I laugh along with Mary, and tickle his feet as I pull him onto my hip. He bestows a wet kiss on my cheek and pats me, and I plant a kiss on his head. He's my only redhead, and his hair is proving to be quite fiery. Thankfully, his temper seems the most even out of the whole lot. "I love you, too, Baer," I say. "Do you want to get down or do you want to help us pack up?"
We're working on having him ask for what he wants instead of just giving it to him. He's so easy-going that he has few strong opinions about how he spends his time. Barrett seems to consider the question from all angles, and then says deliberately, "Down." I sneak one more kiss, and set him down by the door. He stops and surveys the common room before heading out across the rug. So serious for 15 months.
Mary and I set back to work as the voices of the children playing drift back to me from the common room. Occasionally, I hear Paige responding to something they have said. I wish May or Paige could also come with us. But, Paige is protecting the boys and May will help with everything else. And, if anything should happen to me, I want May here. One of the considerations we made when determining who would go and who would stay was the interconnectedness of our team. Carter and Marlee, married with a family of their own, shouldn't be in danger of losing both parents. Even though Maxon and I were the only ones in the palace who know that August and Georgia are Illea's, we didn't send them together. Their son Ethan is only 14. So, Georgia is going but leaving Ethan and August behind. Mary has no direct familial attachments except for us. I think through all of this while I check Abrielle's bags. "Oh, Mary, this one is truly beautiful and it fits Brie's personality perfectly." I lift a delicate green child's evening dress from the bag. The cap-sleeved bodice had a short waist and fell into layers of green chiffon. "You truly outdid yourself. She won't want to take it off for bed." I look around the space, "Do we have our traveling clothes laid out for tomorrow?" Mary reminds me where I put my pants suit. I think it simultaneously makes me look more powerful and more approachable, so much so that I had ordered four additional suits for the trip. Then I make sure Brie's clothes are laid out. She insists on dresses right now, so we chose a comfortable one that would show she is very much a real little girl and not a porcelain doll.
"Do you need anything else, Your Majesty?" Mary asks. I know she needs to go and make sure she is ready for the trip as well.
"After we move these bags to the main doorway, could you find someone to send up some chamomile tea? I have a feeling I may have difficulty calming myself for sleep tonight."
"Of course," Mary replies. "And, I'll let Paige and Lady May know it is time to round the children up to change into their pajamas. Will you be doing the bedtime story tonight?"
"Yes, I think so," I grin, as we move the luggage to the main door of the common room. "Unless they pass out from utter exhaustion before then. In that case, I will leave them where they drop. I am going to change first, however." I examine my skirt and heels, thinking that my pajamas and robe would be a better choice.
"Very well, Your Majesty," Mary curtsies, smile still playing across her face.
In what seems like only moments later, the bedroom door opens again and I am amused to see Maxon awkwardly carrying in a small tea tray. I stay at my dressing table, removing the pins from my hair, already wearing light blue, long-sleeve satin pajamas. The cuff of the pants brush the top of my bare feet, and my fresh manicure reflects the pale color. I watch his reflection in the mirror as he unloads the tray. In moments like these I can forget that I am Queen and he is King and the little people in the next room are growing into similar responsibilities. Right now, we can be just Maxon and America. He catches me watching him and raises an eyebrow as he begins to smile. Moving to the dressing table, he stands behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders, "What are you smiling at?" He already knows the answer.
"You," I place my hand over his and squeeze them lightly. "Sometimes it's nice to see you work a little," I tease.
A look of mock horror crosses his face before the grin returns, "I know. I really need to start pulling my own weight around here. I'm turning over a new leaf." As I remove the last pin, he takes the hairbrush from the table top and works it through my hair. This doesn't happen often, and I let him. After a minute or so, he stops and looks at me in the mirror, like he is taking a picture of this moment in his mind. The next time he speaks, his voice is huskier and his eyes more serious, "It seems like every time I think you can't look more beautiful, Ames, you do." He sits on the bench with me, resting his back against the table but leaning towards me. "Promise me you'll be careful, love. No unnecessary risk?" Before I can say anything, his lips are meeting mine and his hands are in my hair. I respond, wrapping my arms around his neck. A knock at the door separates us.
"America, they're ready for their story now," May's voice floats into our room.
"Be right there, May." Maxon offers me a hand to help me stand. "Would you like to read with me?"
"I'll get to do that every night for the next three weeks. Why don't you go, and I'll get ready for bed."
"Okay," I say, touching his cheek with the palm of my hand. Then I kiss him quickly, but intently, "But hold that thought." I wrap myself in my robe and look over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of him shaking his head in amusement as he turns to the bathroom.
A long half-hour later and I re-enter the room to find Maxon at the breakfast table, absentmindedly tapping his teaspoon and pouring over a file folder. The furrow between his brow and intent look in his eyes clues me in that this might be the latest intelligence report from Aspen. He doesn't look up as he says, "Aspen just returned from Kent. No one paid much attention to his surprise inspection. Seems like the twos there are less sympathetic to the Loyalist movement. They are prospering from our changes. Plus, they were horrified with Marlee's public caning. It looks like a good place to start your tour, love."
I lean myself over the back of his chair, wrapping my arms around him, "Hmm." I move closer, and brush my lips across his neck, paying attention to the area underneath his ear. I know I have his full attention when he drops the spoon. "Maxon," I whisper directly into his ear.
"Yes, love?" He struggles to say the words.
"Can we possibly talk about this in the morning?" I punctuate each syllable with a kiss along his neck.
He drops the folder.