-Maxon-

After the announcement I walked solemnly to my room. This time nothing stopped me.

My father had been so happy. He had commended me and even hugged me. The gesture felt odd coming from him. The only other time he had ever commenced close contact with me was…

I paused in the middle of the hallway. Fear rushed through my veins, even worse than during the rebel attack. Doubling over, I felt the ghostly pains of long gone lashes spread across my back.

Passing soldiers looked at me like I was insane.

"Are you okay sir?" asked a voice from above me.

I scrambled to find an acceptable excuse. "Oh, I'm fine!" I said a little too enthusiastically. "I just hurt my–" My hand quickly shot out to my knee. "–my knee!"

"Do you need help sir?"

I nodded vigorously.

Glancing up, I could see from the soldier's face that he wasn't convinced, but he helped me all the same. He called over another soldier; they stood on either side of me and looped my arms around their shoulders.

We walked at a slow, but steady pace. Going up the stairs proved to be a problem, yet we – ok they – managed it. They carried me to my room and set me on my bed then quickly left to go do whatever it was soldiers did.

I paused in that thought. Why didn't I know what the soldiers did? If I was going to be king shouldn't I have that knowledge? Aside from the fact that they protected us, I knew nothing about them. Where were their barracks? Were the ones that were stationed here fresh recruits or veterans? What did they do when they weren't working?

For a future world leader I knew very little.

I glanced at my watch; it was three a.m. I groaned loudly.

Finally getting up from my bed, I changed into my pajamas mechanically, and flopped onto my bed in a very unprincelike manor. Pulling the covers up to my chin, I allowed all my muscles to relax, and I closed my eyes and there was peace.

That is until my father burst into the room.

"There's my boy!" He said happily, a wide grin spread across his face.

"Hello, father," I replied, my voice weak and small.

His smile wavered for a moment, "You aren't going to go to sleep are you?"

What tipped him off, the fact that I was lying in bed with my eyes closed, or that I looked just as exhausted?

"Yes, I wa–"

"No, you can't I need to have a talk with you," He cut me off, his eyes shining menacingly.

I knew that I wouldn't get any peace if I refused to listen to what he had to say, so I sat up and tried to pay attention in spite of the sleepy haze that floated over me.

My father stood in the doorway silently for a moment, his eyes sweeping over the room. "The maids cleaned up nicely in hear," he started, his voice soft. "I heard that yours was one of the hardest hit rooms."

That startled me. Why hadn't I noticed that my room was clean? If it was anything like what little of the third floor I had seen, it would have looked like a tornado had ripped through here. Yet, it was clean, my widows were intact, none of my furniture was destroyed, and my clothes and other belongings were all where I had left them. The only evidence of the attack was the faint smell of fresh paint. I honestly could not be this clueless. Could I?

Father sighed loudly, pulling my attention back to him as he started to speak, "Maxon, as you know, you shall soon ascend the throne and become king of Illéa. And, this law that you have put into place, gives a precedent for how you shall rule." He paused then, and drew in a deep breath. "I believe that you have set an exemplary standard of rule."

My eyes widened, "Th – thank you father." He smiled again, but this smile was foreboding replica of the first.

"To think Maxon, you, of all people, are the one to implement such an edict. Not even I would dare do such a thing!" he moved from his place in the doorway to stand directly in front of me. "This will send a message that we do not accept such blatant disrespect. It'll hit the rebels hard. They'll be eradicated in months at this rate."

He stood taller then and straightened his clothes. When he spoke again his voice was softer and more composed.

"Of course, there will be casualties."

I furrowed my brow. "What?"

"Lives will be lost; a few people will die, but it will have finally been accomplished. The Rebels will all be gone." As he said the last part that ferocious gleam in his eye sparked up again.

My stomach turned, and I felt sick

"How many people are going to die?"

He turned to leave, and completely brushed off my question. "Maxon, rest we'll conti–"

"How many people are going to die, because of what I did?"

My father paused in the doorway, looking at me over his shoulder.

"A little more than a million."

I closed my eyes for a long time; I didn't want to open them again.

The same words played over and over again in my head. What have I done what have I done whathaveidonewhathaveidone?

"N – no, we – we have to stop this as soon as possible." I stammered

"After the fanfare you brought up just to announce it? No, we cannot risk seeming indecisive or weak." He left then, but there was one more thing I had to know.

"Why wouldn't you have done this?" I called, sitting there for several long moments before realizing that he hadn't heard me.

Just as I was lying down again I heard a voice say, "I can't afford to have the people hate me as they will hate you for this," and then the lights went out.

Afterwards, I laid in the dark for what felt like hours. I blinked away tears and tried not to think about how I had just killed a million people.

AN: Sorry this is a day late; I'm super busy right now. This chapter isn't very action-packed, but it's very important! So, as always please review. xoxo