"I may have burnt the house down but I made damn sure that you were in it when I lit the match." – Juliette Barnes, Nashville

Maxon drew himself up to his full height. "I'm king. You can't do anything without me," he reminded Amberly.

She laughed and waved to the cameramen to turn their cameras off. "Yet the same can be said about you. These bills? You need my signature. And don't think about just having her sign them because then you can be executed for fraud on official documents."

"Why don't you want me to do this?" Maxon suddenly asked.

"It's not that I don't want you to do this. It's that I want revenge." She started circling them. America took a step closer to Maxon, feeling the heat of his body through their clothes. "You killed my husband."

"He deserved it."

She shook her head. "He may have been evil, but you two aren't much better. You amassed an army to overthrow the government and killed dozens of guards in that process. Your wife murdered a man and almost committed adultery."

"We had our reasons," he defended, putting an arm around America's waist.

Amberley stared at them with a cold, calculated gaze. "Well, then you must understand that I have my own reasons. You wanted a war with Clarkson but didn't get one. It's only right that I give it to you now. Don't say I didn't warn you."

The lights in the room shut off, leaving them in total darkness. Some people screamed and shouted. Then a gun went off. America felt who she assumed was Maxon push her down and he guided her head so she wouldn't bang it on the desk. They crawled underneath as another gunshot went off in the room.

Maxon knew the guards weren't shooting because in the dark they ran such a risk of hitting either him or his wife. America was shaking. "We're okay," he whispered into her hair. She clung tighter to him.

Several more guns went off and then the generator to the palace kicked in and the emergency lights came on. America could barely make out Maxon's face in the dim blue light and she had no idea how the guards could see anything. Carter poked his head down and told them, "It's clear Your Majesties."

They crawled out from underneath the desk, America going first. Her hand fell in something warm and wet. A little sticky. Blood. A lot of it. She froze, terror paralyzing her and freezing her in place. Maxon pulled her to her feet by her elbow and she looked down, seeing Marcus on the floor surrounded by the blood she was just kneeling in. "Oh my god," she gasped out, trying to back away but bumping into Maxon.

He gripped her waist almost uncomfortably and pulled her away. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

She shook her head, still shaking. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," he concluded, dragging her into the hallway. All of the power in the palace must have gone out because the emergency lights were on in there too. "Carter, where's Amberley?"

Carter stood with Avery, holding some piece of paper in his hands. "She's gone. We have men looking for her now."

"Look for her, find her, and bring her back here so I can kill her myself," he ordered angrily, holding on to America really tight.

She squirmed a little as Carter held out the paper to Maxon and said, "Your Highness, you need to look at this."

She looked over Maxon's shoulder to read it but saw that it was just one word written in a different language. "Suemos veniriendo," she read aloud. "Is that Spanish?"

Maxon crumpled up the paper and threw it across the wall in a fit. Then he let go of her to start pacing. "Not quite Spanish. A special dialect of Spanish, only used in certain parts of Honduragua." He turned to her and met her eyes. "The parts where Amberley's family is from."

Maxon had his head in his hands, the map of Honduragua spread out in front of him. He circled the parts where this special dialect were used in to give her a visual. A smaller map of Illéa was laid to the side. "It makes sense now," he mumbled to himself. "How did I never see it before?"

America raised her eyebrows. He'd been doing this for an hour and she still had no idea what he was talking about. "What makes sense?"

He actually answered her this time she asked. "I knew the Masons were the Northern rebels; that's why they wouldn't hurt people. They didn't want to risk me. But the Southerners were never accounted for. They had no problem attacking us because it's run by Amberley's family and they have no problem hurting me."

"But you're from Honduragua," she said. "Why would they want to hurt you?"

"Parts of Honduragua have been fighting with each other for years. They're basically caught up in their own civil war. The part we were staying in is one of the more peaceful parts as well as the area I'm from. Amberly's family hates my family though. For good reason. I don't belong in her family."

America shook her head, still confused. "But Adele was so fond of you."

"Adele isn't Amberley's only sibling. They're older brother Aaron is quite…well let's just say I've only met him once and he made Clarkson seem tame."

She couldn't imagine anyone more cruel than Clarkson. Then again, a large part of her time exploring the world and meeting people was spent behind bulletproof glass and surrounded by guards. "So you think he's the leader for the Southerners?"

He shrugged. "I don't know what to think right now." He shook his head and she could hear his ragged breaths as he tried to calm the onslaught of emotions trying to take hold of him. "All I know is that my fake-mother is trying to kill me but she's trying to destroy the country first."

America stood and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He stiffened, reminding her of the bullet wound in his left shoulder. She loosed her grip a little. But just a little. "We'll be okay," she whispered into his hair.

He was quiet for a long time before finally saying quietly, "We shouldn't be having this baby."

"It's too late to change that now," she told him. She stroked his hair and pressed her cheek against the top of his head. "Security is tight. It's a wonder she got in here. We'll be okay."

"Ames, there have been two assassination attempts in the past forty-eight hours. Don't think I can just let that go. Not to mention that my fake-mother was involved in one of them."

She drew back suddenly. "Maybe two," she mumbled. "The morning Mrs. Leger came and tried to shoot me…that was the same day you got that letter from Amberly." She paused. "She mentioned warning us. What did that letter say? Did you ever read it?"

"No, I didn't. But you're saying that Mrs. Leger was persuaded by my mother to try to kill you? She loved you, from what you told me. What, besides insanity, would give her incentive for that?"

"Money," America concluded. "Maxon, she's a Six. If Amberley was willing to pay her, she was going to do it."

He nodded, standing up abruptly. He winced with the sudden motion disturbing his shoulder but he led her to their bedroom, pulling out the letter and opening it. "Suemos veniriendo," he read, passing her the note. "It's the same thing."

"How did this get through inspection?"

He shook his head, knowing what America really meant. "The guys in the mail room would have no idea what this means. Stuff is always sent to us in different languages."

She nodded, knowing that was true but then she suggested, "Unless someone from the inside sent it? That doesn't look like Amberley's writing."

"What, someone inside the palace is working for her?"

"That was before the second round of background checks. I have the list of soldiers that were fired for sketchy backgrounds. Here," she said, pulling it out of a folder on her nightstand.

They read through the list quickly. "Dammit. Liam Station."

"Liam Station?"

"My cousin. Aaron's eldest son. He's a couple years older than I am. He was always hassling me when we were kids. He's a good fighter – above average, actually - but we're evenly matched. We would sneak off to fight and wrestle but we were almost always broken up before we could finish." He rolled his eyes at the memory. "Can't damage the prince."

"Almost always?" she repeated. "What about those times you weren't broken up?"

"He beat me," he spat. "Every time. He's older and at the time he had the size advantage. I haven't seen him in years. I'm surprised I never saw him around."

She nodded. "Well, if he didn't like you he was more than likely a sympathizer for Clarkson. Heck, he probably helped with the kidnapping of Christian." She paused. "What do we do?"

"Amberley has an army. That leaves us with one thing left to do." He looked away and out over the gardens where snow had just started to fall. "Get our own army."

I created that dialect of Spanish so don't think that I got a cheap translation - haha. thanks for the reviews guys but I don't have any questions left to answer! send me more please!