Disclaimer: I don't own the Selection Trilogy. All rights go to Kiera Cass.
Tess's POV
I wake up at nine, thirty-seven precisely, curled up in bed, the sunlight brushing my face like a feather. Matt's pillow is starting to smell like me. It's so weird to think about it, but it's almost a combined scent. His sweet and spicy smell mingled with my fruity shampoo, giving me something I like to think as a very alcoholic piña colada.
He's coming home at one o'clock, Queen America said. That is, without any inconveniences. The rebels won't be a possible threat anymore, but there could be engine failures, unexpected turbulence, a storm they aren't ready for, a giant flock of birds that won't get out of the way, there are so many possibilities! I realize I've been hyperventilating and clutching the blankets in my hands like I can't bear to let it go. I release it from my grip, thinking I really need to get a stress ball.
Someone knocks on the door, and for a second I'm thinking that the plane actually took off early. I run to the door, the sudden motion making my vision bleary, and I open it, but finding only Christina, my maid.
"Good morning, your highness," she says hesitantly.
I rub my eyes and try to wipe the disappointment from my face. "Good morning, Christina," I say.
"I'm sorry to wake you up, but you're needed at the Dining Hall for breakfast."
This is odd. The queen usually lets me sleep in. I frown. "Why? What's wrong?"
Christina shakes her head vigorously, looking worried and scared altogether. "No, no! Nothing's wrong! Just..." She bites her lip.
"Your highness, I have a new dress for you!" Margaret, my other maid, says, coming to a stuttering Christina's rescue.
I have to at least pretend I'm not suspicious, so I clap excitedly. "I'm sure you girls did a marvelous job! Like always."
"Why, thank you, Princess," Margaret says smoothly. "Now come along. Wouldn't want the, er, queen waiting."
"Yes," I mumble. "Wouldn't want the queen to wait."
I go to my room through the adjoining door, and sure enough, there is a brand new dress. It's very cute actually. Not the dress. Well, that too, but the fact that my maids are keeping a secret from me. It's not supposed to be endearing, but somehow it is. It's like they know me enough to be able to joke with me like this. And they expect me to trust them.
So I let Margaret, Emma, and Christina dress me up. They actually put makeup on me. Usually, it's just powder or something, but they're putting on the full regalia of cosmetics. They put shimmering eye shadow the color of cocoa beans that compliment my tan skin. A light red lip gloss is swept across my lips and I look so...royal. Emma leaves my hair down, but braids several pieces and weaves into a headband. It's enchanting to see her nimble fingers arrange my hair like a work of art.
My dress is nothing short of spectacular. It's red, like the shade of my lips, except there's something about it that makes it shimmer and sparkle in the light. It's knee length and the skirts swish as I walk in it. The top is a different story. It looks like it was transported from Ancient Greece! The left part overlaps the right and crosses underneath each other, forming a halter that ties around my neck.
"Girls, this is lovely," I say, admiring how it looks on me in the mirror. I'm rarely this narcissistic, but come on. I look like a princess. "This is really lovely." I turn to them, my fingers feeling the fabric. "But why am I dressed up so special for just breakfast? I mean, Matthew's not coming until one o'clock, right?"
"Here are your heels, Princess!" Emma says, shoving a pair of black pumps in my arms. "Put them on! Hurry!"
"I don't see what's the rush," I grumble. "It's just breakfast."
"Please hurry, your highness," Christina urges again while putting diamond earrings on me.
"Yes, Princess. You have to hurry up," Margaret seconds as she tucks stray hairs into my bun.
They release me and I stand with my arms crossed. "If you call me 'princess' or 'your highness' one more time,"—my face breaks into a smile when I see their panicked expressions—"then I'll never listen to you girls again." I give them separate hugs. "Thank you girls so much."
I practically run to the Dining Hall. I don't see what's so important. As I wait for the guards to open the door, I can sense something's off. Oh, no. Matthew and King Maxon's plane.
I burst through the doors. "What is it? What happened? What's wrong?" Everyone stops in their tracks. Well, actually, everyone hides their smiles through pursed lips. Even the maids! "This isn't funny."
"No, love, but you are definitely making things comedic."
No. Freaking. Way.
I whirl around, and there is Matthew, standing with his hands in his pockets. "Surprise!" everyone yells. I stand there, gaping like my jaw won't work, and see King Maxon as well.
He pats my shoulder. "It's great to see you too, Tess." He gives me a light hug and joins his wife at the table.
I still can't grasp this. "Wha—? How?"
"Our flight left early. We got here several minutes ago," Matthew says, walking slowly toward me. I can't help myself—I break into a run and wrap my arms around his neck.
"You're here," I whisper in his ear. "You're really here. And you're safe and fine and—"
He laughs and I laugh too. I missed that sound too much. Matt puts his arms around me tight and our chests are flush against each other. My toes are barely touching the ground as he lifts me up to match his height. "I missed you too, love."
I'm laughing and crying, and I'm a frenzy of emotions, like wild animals that have been caged for too long. I pull back a little to look at his blue eyes. I rest my forehead against his and I just laugh again. "I missed you so much, Matthew." I don't really care who's watching anymore. I kiss him with everything I have, all the love I can give.
"Ahem," someone says.
Shit.
"We'd like to eat our breakfasts without throwing them up," Jerome says.
I giggle anyway and Matt sets me down. We walk to our seats hand in hand, and I still can't stop smiling. I wipe the tears from my face. "Um, sorry about that," I say as I reluctantly let go of Matt to eat my food, though my appetite isn't as big anymore. I'm more than sated.
They talk about the conferences and as Matthew talks about the deal they've made, I find it hard to focus on the actual words he's saying. I just missed all of him—his voice, his laugh, his smell, his beautiful blue eyes, his hair that tumbles past the tops of his ears.
Then everyone's silent. What just happened?
I look where everyone's looking—the double doors that have just opened for a young man, probably around Matthew's and my age. I don't think I've ever met him before. He has apprehensive green-gray eyes that survey the room analytically. He uncomfortably runs a hand through his neat dark hair and says in a heavy French accent, "Good morning."
"Good morning," we say in confused tones. Well, "we" excluding Matthew, the king, and surprisingly, Jerome.
The Swendish prince grimaces. "What is he doing here?"
"That is one facet of our deal we forgot to mention," King Maxon says as the young man takes the empty seat next to Alexandra. "In order for the French king to comply, we had to agree to one of his circumstances."
"Which was...?" Rilane says.
The king's mouth settles in a straight line. "His son, Alexander, the Dauphin of France, must marry Alexandra."
Alexandra drops her spoon and her book, the tray of jelly-filled pastries flying behind her. "Hey! I was going to eat those!" Jerome says petulantly as the maids flock over to clean it up.
"What do you mean he must marry me?!" Alexa says, fury searing in her eyes. "You know what? I don't even want to know." She stands up, the seat nearly toppling over, and stomps out in a blaze of anger.
"Well," Jerome says. "That escalated quickly."
"Jer," Matt whispers. "Not the time."
He nods and Prince Alexander stands up. "It is okay. I wasn't very hungry anyway. I'll go talk to her."
Actually, that might not be the best thing... Everyone has this written all over their faces, but no one tries to stop him. He rushes out to find the girl he's forced to marry.
We all finish our breakfasts. It's quite clear we just want to leave the room. "Hey," Matt whispers, his lips brushing my ear ever so slightly. "I need to talk to you about something."
"Yeah, me too," I say.
So we inhale our foods and rush to his room. He smiles. "Ah, my own room." He jumps on his bed and inhales deeply. Then he sits up and breathes again. "Tess?" he asks slowly.
I purse my lips. "Yes?"
"Have you been sleeping on my bed?" he asks as I approach him.
"Well, I kinda missed your, uh, smell."
Matt sits on the edge of his bed and puts his arms around my waist. "Just my smell."
I nod teasingly. "Yes, just the smell. You can go again once you've told me your cologne."
"Hmm, is that so? You don't want to keep me around?" He rubs his thumb on my lower back, and I'm sure he can hear my heart racing.
"Yes," I say, my voice quivering as he runs his hands up and down my arms, giving me goosebumps. I slip off my shoes and they awkwardly thud when they hit the carpet.
He pulls me down to his level, forcing me to straddle his thighs. "You don't want this?" He slowly kisses my neck, making his way up my ear. "Are you sure you want me to go away again?" he whispers, his breath hitting my ear, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
"God, just kiss me already," I complain. I can feel his smile against my ear, and I bury my hands in his hair and pull his lips to mine.
I feel like a myopic who just got her glasses. I can see everything so clearly again. The kiss feels so right, so long-awaited. It quickly changes from our slow and comfortable pace to something deeper and needier.
"Did I tell you," Matt says in between kisses, "how spectacular you look in your dress?"
I smile against his mouth. "Did I tell you how much I love you?"
He pulls away quickly and stares at me. "What did you say?" he says breathlessly.
I put my hands on his neck, my left hand feeling his loud and oddly irregular pulse. I ignore it, though, as adrenaline surges in my veins, getting ready for my confession. "Matthew, I read your letter."
His face falls. "I knew you'd hate it and—"
"It was so beautiful. I loved it so much..." I pause and look at him in the eye. "But I love the man who wrote it himself so much more."
Matt smashes his lips against mine, desperation and need pulsing between us. He carries me to the center of his bed and lays me down ever so carefully. I take off his suit coat and immediately work on his button down. He throws it to who knows where in the room. I pull away to get a glimpse of his sculpted chest. He makes any statue look like a sumo.
I run my hands on his arms, to his chest, to his back. My fingers trace the scars, and he closes his eyes. "Does it hurt?" I ask gently.
He shakes his head. "I'm just worried you're disgusted."
I smile and kiss him, softer this time. "Never."
He opens his mouth, but decides against saying whatever it was he was going to say. Then he says, all in one breath, "Can you say it again? Please?"
I smile and his fingers find the tie to my haltered dress at the back of my neck. "Matthew Sebastian Schreave," I pause for dramatic effect.
"You remember my full name," he notes with a smile as he unties it completely.
"I love you with all of my heart and all of my soul. I never thought I could love someone this much, but I do. You are so handsome and so kind and so selfless. You always think of others before you."
He hesitates. "Not really."
"Will you just accept my profession of love?" I ask, putting my hand on his cheek.
He chuckles. "Go on."
"And I love you more every day. When you were in France, my heart threatened to tear apart because it missed loving you while you were so close. And I wanted to gouge my eyes out because I though, heck, if I can't see you then I don't want to see at all. I love you. So much."
He smiles, slowly but surely, and he bends down to put his lips on mine. "I love you too, Tess. I will love until the infinities diminish to the number zero, and I will still love you."
Matt holds the straps from around my neck and looks at me, silently asking for permission. I nod hesitantly. He pulls me up into a sitting position. He pulls the top of the dress down using the straps. I am silently thanking my maids for putting me in a strapless bra. This is better than nothing at all.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. He sets me back down again and kisses my collarbone. "I want to make you feel—" He kisses my stomach. "—like you've never been loved before." He looks up at me through his bronze eyelashes. "I want to make you want things you didn't know you wanted."
I'm breathing heavily as he kisses my long, ugly scars on my stomach. I shiver and shut my eyes. "Do they hurt?" he says, brushing it carefully with his bottom lip.
I shake my head. "I'm just worried you're disgusted."
He shakes his head, his nose touching the sensitive skin. "Never."
I pull him back to my lips because I feel so deprived right now. We move in synchronization to each other's bodies so I'm on top of him. My long black hair makes a little curtain for us, separating us from the outside world. Matt rubs my arms with his hands. "Is this a dream?" he whispers.
I lean down and brush my lips against his. "I hope not."
Whew. I'll answer to the reviews tomorrow. So sorry to be lazy again, you guys, but it's midnight and I'm unnecessarily exhausted.
I hope you liked this very "Messy"/Mattess chapter! And thank you so much for the reviews. I can't believe there are already this many! Thank you guys so much. I love you more than Matthew loves Tess. And that's saying something.
Love ya!- AcademicGirl
