I am so sorry for such a long break since I last updated! I hope you like this chapter!
"Your Majesty, I'm afraid that the blood infection has finally spread throughout His Majesty's body," Dr. Macky reported to America. "This is it," he added grimly.
America squeezed Maxon's hand, looking down at his beautiful face in agony. "How long?"
Dr. Macky sighed. "Days, weeks perhaps. But I wouldn't give it any more than a month."
The hospital was quiet besides the sound of America crying quietly and nurses attending to their duties. America bowed her head and held a hand up to stop Dr. Macky from saying whatever he was opening his mouth to say. "Please, can you just leave us? I'm sorry…" she told him, on the edge of completely falling apart.
However, even with the privacy Dr. Macky granted her, she couldn't cry anymore. The only person who could comfort her had to be comforted by her. She felt like she had mourned him all those years ago when she first learned of the infection. She didn't know how long she sat there before a guard walked in, but the stormy sky outside was starting to brighten and her body was heavy with lethargy.
"Your Highness, there is a man and a woman in the foyer asking to see you. She said she knows you," the guard said, obviously confused.
America sniffed and rubbed some tears away from her eyes, nodding. "I'll be right there." She kissed Maxon's face a couple times and then left. Kenna was outside with Kota and James and she hugged her older siblings. "Can you sit with him please? Just in case he wakes up and asks for me."
Kenna nodded with a sympathetic smile and squeezed her sister's shoulder. "Do what you have to do Ames."
America walked down to the foyer, not having any idea what to expect. At the bottom of the steps, surrounded by a loose circle of guards and advisers, was a couple of travelers from what America could tell. They both were wearing rags and dripping wet from the rain pouring outside. The man was tall with olive skin and dark, scruffy hair but he had striking blue eyes that practically froze her in place when he met her eyes. He quickly looked away and shifted on his feet nervously. The woman was wearing a hat but America could see that her hair – even though it looked brown from the moisture – was the same shade as hers. It was what America's hair looked like wet; she knew that dry it would be the same ginger color.
Ten years had passed and her face was weathered from turmoil and time but America would recognize it anywhere. Because when America was growing up, it was the face that she would wake up to. It was the face that would poke out of her father's studio with a bright smile stretching across her features. It was the face that America was told to forget.
It was May.
Her name jumped to America's lips like an old childhood prayer, automatic and reflexive and requiring an extreme amount of self-control to keep from spilling out of her mouth. "Who is the man?" she asked one of the guards standing next to her, slightly protectively.
The man bowed. "Your Grace, my name is Graham Orders. My older brother is married to your sister. I understand that you wouldn't know me but I am who I say I am. He could confirm it if you have any doubt although there is a pretty unmistakable resemblance."
America nodded, agreeing that the resemblance was uncanny. "There will be no need for that. What business has called you here, Mr. Orders?"
"Your sister, my Queen." May bowed her head, pink spreading across her cheeks. "I found her just outside the city and came to her rescue. She insisted I didn't come here but I didn't know where else to bring her. She needs help, you see."
With a sigh, America studied her sister with her eyes, looking for signs of distress. She noticed how frail she looked. Her bones in her face were sticking out, her features too sharp. America narrowed her eyes at her sister. "Take Mr. Orders up to the parlor, inform my sister and James that he is here," she told one of the guards surrounding her. "See to it that a maid gets him something warm to drink and food. Whatever the cooks can come up with."
The guard nodded and Graham was ushered forward and up the steps. He smiled at America, their gazes holding each other perhaps a bit too long for it being the first time they meet. Then she looked down at May. She waited until Graham was clear out of the room. "And then there's you."
"America, please…" she started pleading and took a couple steps forward but the guards stopped her.
"You will call me by one of my titles or you will leave."
May huffed, betrayal written all over her face. The guards around her looked uneasy. "But I'm your sister!"
"And you told me to forget you!" America suddenly yelled, losing her composure. "I'll admit, at first it was unthinkable but then I started to realize the horror of what you tried to do to my family and after that epiphany, it became very easy for me to forget about you."
She shook her head. "I regret ever sending you that letter Amer…Queen America. But you have to know that I had to do it because after I realized the 'horror' of what I did I could barely live with myself. I didn't want to be associated with you guys because I knew I just brought our family shame."
"You're right and I see no reason for letting you stay here," America said in a cold, unfeeling voice.
"Just for a few nights, please," May pleaded.
America let out an exasperated growl. "You are crazy if you think I'd let you inside these walls again. After you tried to kill me and my husband, probably my son too…you're a lying, deceitful little tramp who cared more about a silly boy than her own family!"
"Your Grace," a voice called from behind her. She turned and saw Graham standing at the top of the steps, looking down on the scene in the foyer. "There's no need to tell her everything she already knows. She knows she did you wrong and she is remorseful and would wish to repent; just give her the chance."
America turned away and looked back down at her sister. She tried to see past the sad woman standing before her and then sighed, looking over at the guard standing next to her. "Take her to one of the guest chambers on the second floor, away from my family's rooms or any other guests that are here. Keep all entrances and exits guarded," she told him in a defeated voice. The guard bowed and joined the group of guards leading May past America. As a last minute instruction, America called out, "And get my maids to clean her up!"
The foyer was left in quiet and America realized Graham was still standing behind her. "What, are you obsessed with me or something?" she asked in a tight voice.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "You look like crap, you know."
"Gee, thanks." She started to move past him but he grabbed her by the elbow and stopped her.
"Talk to her. I think you'll find that she has a lot to tell her."
She pulled her elbow away from him roughly. "I think you'll find that I really have a problem doing that because she tried to kill my husband and it just so happens that now my husband is dying. Oh, and I'm pregnant with his child and he'll never get to meet it. So whatever you think you're doing to comfort me, please, stop because I don't need this right now." She turned on her heel and went back to the hospital.
She curled up in Maxon's bed next to him, ignoring her family that was in the room. "Maxon, you have to wake up. I need you now more than ever," she pleaded in his ear. "At least for a little while. Please."