A/N:

Thanks for sticking with me everyone. I think I don't say it enough, I really appreciate the reads, reviews, favorites, and follows. I hope you're still enjoying the story! :) -SJ

Totalbooknerd13: I know...*cue suspenseful music* :)

prnamber3909: Previous education advisor-and one of the heads of the Loyalist movement. :)

oreocheesecakes: Thanks, I hope you like this one, too. Enjoy! :)

Rage. I am brimming with rage as I knock strongly on the closed door. I'm sure my hair and face are mirrors of each other. I hear the conversation come to an abrupt halt. What is Didasko doing in this building? Aspen's team had last seen him in Clermont, working on that province's education committee. After all, it is where he is from and we did not widely advertise why he was released from service. I knock again, and spare a glance at Marlee. The look on her face reflects horror. Suddenly, I am not sure what I will do if someone actually answers the door. But I will not back away now.

The door cracks open and the attaché to the Mayor appears in the hallway. Before the door shuts behind him, I glimpse the Mayor sitting at a desk, reviewing a file and pretending not to notice the interruption. The room appears otherwise empty. "Yes, Your Majesty? May I be of service?"

"Oh, I do hope so!" I coo. "With all the excitement of the day, my assistant and I have gotten horribly turned around. Could you please point us in the direction of the ladies changing area? I would so appreciate the help."

He bows, "Of course." I take the arm he offers and chatter with him down the hallway. As we arrive at the changing room, I thank him and add, "I do so hope to see his Honor the Mayor at the reception this evening. It is not every day I am able to visit your beautiful province. Hopefully, the issue from this morning is resolved satisfactorily?"

The man bows again, but understands that my statements may sound like questions, but are actually orders. "Of course, Your Majesty. I am sure he would not miss the opportunity for the world." His glare is not lost on me.

"I am so glad to hear it," I say as he bows and turns to return to his work. Marlee and I watch him walk away. When we are sure he is gone, we enter the changing room to see Aspen pacing the floor. I close the door, and take a seat on the couch. Marlee follows suit. "I assume this has something to do with the fact that I just saw Didasko in the Mayor's office?"

He turns to face me, "One of the plain clothes teams thought they spotted him earlier in the day. We had no confirmation, Mer. You're sure?"

Marlee piped up, "I spent several months denying him access to America, Aspen. We're sure it is him." She explains how she saw him and then we saw him together. Then we all went silent. We all knew what his presence meant without having to say anything more. The Loyalists were actively recruiting, and Sota had been a ripe target. We had found the second leaders of the Loyalist movement, and they were a former Selection contestant and her husband. I couldn't help but feel betrayed.

"Has the mayor left his office suite at all?" I ask, curious.

Aspen shakes his head, "No, we've had eyes here all day. Aides and advisors have come in and out, but the mayor seems to be sticking to his office."

"Well, he will be leaving for the reception."

Marlee laughs quietly, "Yes, I do think you're right." We exchange a look. "America made it quite clear that she expects to see him there."

"That should give your team an opportunity?"

He nods, and I can see him already planning how he was going to gain access without drawing attention. But, he takes a second to admonish me, "Mer, Maxon is going to be irritated when he finds out you pounded on a door with Didasko on the other side."

"Only if you tell him, Aspen. Only if you tell him."

He smiles wryly and heads for the door. "Get dressed, Your Majesty. We both have work to do."

A little over an hour later, Marlee and I are awash in the intricate politics of small talk at a state function. I feel the tension in my body and work to keep visual confirmation of my thin temper from my face. Polite conversation is irksome when you have it on good authority that three-quarters of the room would prefer you dead, and most of the other quarter wishes you would just go away. Much to Brie's chagrin, we had already sent her back with Mary to get ready for bed, as well as an overnight flight. I was wishing I could do the same.

Georgia walks across the marble floor and whispers in my ear, "The team is having a little difficulty. Do you think you could manage a bit of a distraction?" I nod. "Good. Swooning would probably do it."

"It's not that far from the truth," I whisper back, my lips barely moving. "The skirts of this gown weigh a ton, and I'm suddenly not feeling so well." I begin to fan myself, as I begin to move to another spot in the room. I ask Marlee for a glass of water in an audible tone, and directly in the middle of the reception, when I am sure I have everyone's attention, I fake an attempt to grasp Georgia's arm and instead crumple to the floor.

I open my eyes to see Bariel and her husband looking worriedly down at me, and most of the rest of the reception creating a circle around them. A contingent of guards, both provincial and my personal palace team were rushing in the door, responding to a ringing alarm. No matter how they actually feel about me, no one wants the collapse of the queen on their shoulders. With Marlee and Georgia's assistance, I gingerly sit and then stand, feigning dizziness. I see Aspen appear in the doorway. "Your Majesty, the doctor is on his way," Bariel says, even paler than usual.

I paste a weak smile across my face, "Nonsense, Lady Bariel, I would hate to cause any more disruption to this lovely affair. But, perhaps I will take that as a sign to excuse myself." As I pass through the doorway, Aspen joins my contingent. He takes my arm, and squeezes it a little in the guise of support. They got what they needed. Good. Because the pictures would be all over the world in the next twelve hours and Nicoletta would never let me live this down.

Back on the plane, and in much more appropriate travel clothing, I settle into my seat. Brie is once again sleeping, and I sigh a little to myself. I have had a little more time with her, but not as much as I had hoped. Aspen has Maxon on the line, so he sits in the spare seat beside me. I hear snatches of conversation while I go through my province file. We still hadn't given the pilot instructions on where to next. My attention is drawn to the brief on Bonita, a province that is deeply divided. In King Clarkson's time, hundreds of Northern rebel supporters had been downgraded there. In addition, Southern rebel mercenaries had previously called the province home. Despite the eradication of the Southern rebels, tensions tend to run high there, and the Northern allies still train there. Aspen passes me the phone and I confirm that I had seen Didasko. I relay my conversation with Bariel, and we decide together that Bonita is our next stop. Aspen takes my cue to direct the pilot. We taxi down the runway as I end the call. Our good-bye is bittersweet. Only nineteen more nights of this, I sigh to myself, and lean back in my seat to rest.

Aspen is soon shaking me awake. We cannot possibly be in Bonita yet. Marlee and Georgia are upright and alert, and my watch says I have only been asleep for an hour. "What's wrong?"

"It's Bonita, Mer."

"Our command center has been destroyed." Georgia has tears in her eyes, and she cannot contain them. "Everyone, America. They are all dead."