A/N: So, in fifteen minute increments today, I was able to write this chapter. It is short, but I am a little concerned that prnamber3909 might make good on the promise in the last review. ;) I hope you enjoy this next installment-let me know what you think, if you have a chance. Thanks for reading! -SJ
The Devil Wears Westwood: I know. I realize I am getting more done by allowing myself the little writing breaks. :)
The Selection Fangirl: Thanks so much. Maybe after next week there might be a few days of more than one chapter... but not until then. :) Glad you enjoyed it.
jthornestudent: Thank you so much for your sentiment-and for being patient. :)
prnamber3909: I am slightly frightened now... ;) Your review actually made me laugh out loud, and I needed that!
PEETAMELLARKLOVER123: Thanks for reading! :)
sushi: Good to see you back. Thanks for the compliments! I hope you enjoy the update! :)
waterpolo3: I'm glad you're enjoying it. Hope it lives up to expectations! :)
I ball my hands into fists at my sides and reply softly but fiercely, "You can't keep me here."
"Maxon's orders, Mer."
He was attempting to be gentle with me, but I was having none of it. "And if he's dead, are you going to follow mine?" I will not cry. Not yet.
"Your Majesty, we must follow protocol for your safety."
And just like that, I am stuck. Abrielle, Mary, and Kota sleep on, but Georgia and Marlee realize there is a problem. They look worriedly in my direction, but stay seated. "What's next then?" I push my emotions back. This just isn't the time.
"When we had attacks in the past, we would switch to a secure palace-only line. It is difficult to hack, and keeps everyone in the palace safer while still allowing the guards to communicate. Unfortunately, it is currently keeping me from my teams. They will call when the palace is secure."
"That's not acceptable, Commander Leger."
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. It will have to do for now." He puts emphasis on 'Your Majesty' and I know my attitude is needling him. He sees my face, frozen in a mask of determination, and his next words are softer, "Mer, they are going to be fine."
I nod, but don't speak. I can't. We stand silently for what seems like hours, but is only actually minutes. I hear a click come from the bud in Aspen's ear as the phone in my pocket begins to buzz.
"America?" Through the static I hear his voice, and relief washes over me. I start to tremble.
"Maxon."
"I am so glad to hear your voice, love. Are you okay?"
"Me? We're fine. The boys?"
"The boys, the family, everyone is safe...Ames, the next few hours will be protocol-laden. I know how impatient that makes you, so please don't give Aspen a hard time. He's only doing what I ask. We are planning to go into council meeting as soon as you get here."
"Does this mean I'll be sitting on the tarmac until we get an all clear?" I ask sharply, revealing my displeasure.
"America, we lost three troops and several others are wounded. They sacrificed to protect us. We will not have their deaths mean nothing because you don't want to sit on the airplane for an extra hour or two."
His tone suggests a finality that I should not argue against. I say nothing more, which is what Maxon intended. He is right, but I hate being restricted. Since I am not allowed to leave, the cabin of the aircraft immediately feels suffocating.
"America, are you still there?"
"I understand, Maxon," no trace of anger remains in my voice. He has enough to deal with right now. "I just wish we were all together right now." I want nothing more than to put my arms around my family and pull them close.
"Me, too. We'll have breakfast waiting in the common room when you get here. And, then you and I will spend the whole day together." He tries to put a positive spin on the political implications of the aftermath of the attack.
"I don't think council and committee meetings count as spending the day together, Maxon."
"Well, love, it may be the closest thing to it for the next few days." He sounds wistful, and I wish I could brush his honey-colored hair off his brow and kiss his forehead. "At least we'll be in the same room. Listen, I really need to go now. I've spent too long on here already."
"I know. I love you."
"I love you, too." I hold the phone in my hand for an extra moment or two. I turn to Aspen, and he is having an intent conversation over the palace link. I place a hand on his shoulder and he turns to me, expression serious. "I'm sorry," I mouth. He nods slightly, and turns back to his conversation. I have nothing else to do, so I return to the seats in the front of the cabin. I seat myself beside Georgia and Marlee, and quietly update them on the situation. But, I can't tell them for sure that August and Carter are all right. I didn't ask, but Maxon would have told me if we would have lost either of them. They are both on his personal team.
I look at my baby girl, still snoring away, and my brother, also still asleep. It must be nice to sleep so soundly. Mary is leaning back in her chair, but her eyes are open, so we wave her over and let her know what is happening. With any luck, Brie will sleep the entire time we are waiting.
"America, do you remember the first time we met?" Marlee whispers, trying to distract us from waiting.
I smile at the memory. At the time, I was so sure that she would be the future queen, she was so blonde and beautiful. Still is really. "Yes. I seem to remember we spent quite a while on an airplane then, as well." We all giggle a little, cognizant to keep our voices hushed. "That's when we met Celeste for the first time."
Marlee grins, "I will never forget you reprimanding her for being late to the airplane. She was so surprised that a five had the audacity to question her."
"I tended to surprise her, I think." But in the end, she surprised me. My biggest ally. My mood turns back to somber as I remember her murder. I wish so whole-heartedly that I could separate my memories of her from the violent end to her life. Maybe fifteen years isn't quite enough time. I can't fathom what the Newsome's had done to deserve a warning that would take their only child's life. I am still so surprised at Mr. Newsome's behavior last night that I had yet to process the information he had tried to share. I pass my hand over my eyes, take a deep breath, and slowly exhale. Calm.
Aspen finally crosses to the door and opens it, allowing early morning light to flood the cabin. Another deceptively beautiful day; the sunny sky seems to try to erase the horror of the night before. Within thirty minutes we were arriving at the front of our palace, greeted by workmen replacing first story windows. I instruct Aspen to stay with me at the front door, and ask that the others go in the delivery entrance, which hasn't been touched by the violence. We'll eventually all arrive in the same place, our common room at the breakfast table. Abrielle is too young to see the destruction that must be waiting just inside the front entrance, but I need to view it before it is sanitized.
I nod to the guards, and they pull open the double doors. I draw a breath. The wall by the grand staircase has been emptied of the usual decorations, and scrawled across the expanse in their place are five foot tall blood-red letters: "We're back."