-Maxon-

The next few days passed without incident.

On the surface I looked like I was the perfect prince. I listened intently at meetings about the war, which often lasted late into the nights. To the girls, I was the image of the perfect gentlemen. I took them each out on dates, if that's what you could call them.

But on the inside I was completely shattered. During the war meetings I couldn't stop thinking about all of the innocent people that would die because of my ignorance. Every time I so much as looked at one of the girls, I couldn't help but wonder if someone they knew was going to die because of me.

I felt so stupid, so incredibly stupid. How could I sentence people to death and expect them not to die?

It was like I was running on autopilot, and when I finally found my consciousness again, I was at dinner.

I scanned the room, my eyes burning like someone was shining a light in them. The girls sat at their tables near the edges of the vast room. They were in groups, well that is except for Marlee, but I didn't expect as much. She was a loner.

Someone was calling my name. I looked up to see my mother, elegant as ever in a spring green evening gown, looking at me intently.

"Maxon," she said her voice edged with concern. "Are you okay?"

I stared at her for a long moment, before I was able to process what she had said.

"Y – yes, I – I'm fine," I stammered, the words feeling wrong on my tongue. The room suddenly felt void of air, and I drew in a shaky breath.

"Son," My father said gently, his voice making it sound like a question.

The room was beginning to close in on me; I drew in another shaky breath, and knew that I'd lose consciousness if I didn't get out of here.

I pushed back my chair and stood, which turned out to be a mistake because then the room started spinning, and I had to brace myself against the table in order to keep from toppling over.

"May I be excused?"

My parents looked at me like I was insane, and then looked at each other for a moment before answering. "Yes, but be sure to see the doctor, son." My father whispered the last part.

I nodded quickly – another mistake – then pushed my chair back in and started towards the giant mahogany doors. As I walked I felt the eyes of the Elite watching me fixedly.

When I finally escaped the crushing tightness of the room I stood in the hallway for a moment, still unable to catch my breath.

I had to get out of here. Should I go to the garden? No, the guards would watch me there.

That left only one option.

Before I had even decided on it, my legs began to carry me up the innumerable stairs. I wasn't even conscious of being tired or even mildly winded this time, though the latter was likely due to the fact that I still couldn't breathe. Or, maybe I was, but I just wasn't aware.

Everything was a fuzzy blur, and I hadn't realized that I had reached the roof until the wind hit me. It was sharp and chilly, but it brought me to my senses.

I drew in a deep breath, and it felt like I was breathing for the first time ever. The air was so sweet on my tongue, and it tickled my lungs. I ambled over to the flagpole and collapsed next to it. The moon wasn't full so I was sure no one would see me as I leaned on it.

I dreamily watched the skyline twinkling like a million stars. Beyond that I watched the sky spread on and on to infinity.

Was that what it felt like to die? To finally be free, and feel yourself spread outward infinitely?

Perhaps I had done those people a favor, and freed them from what would prove to be an agonizing existence. The world was far crueler than anyone would ever know, but what would I – a prince, who has lived his entire life in luxury – know about that?

Everything, and yet at the same time, nothing at all.

I rubbed my eyes; it was way too late at night for this philosophical crap.

The moon rose higher in the sky, and my eyelids got heavier until I could no longer stay awake, but perhaps if I had, I would have heard the sirens, or the shouts from the soldiers, or even the pounding of footsteps on the stairs.

I awoke to a feeling of pain spreading across my jaw, and grabbed the flagpole just in time to keep myself from falling to the ground.

"That was for Aspen," said a cold voice from above me. I realized with a sinking feeling that it was familiar. "And, this is for me."

I felt something akin to a brick hit me in my stomach and I grunted in pain as I tried to hoist myself up.

"Not so tough without your daddy's guards around to protect you," the voice said again, this time the attacker hit me in the face again. I landed a few feet away from where I had been at the flag pole, only this time I was on my back and I could see my attacker – I could see her.

The girl looked just like she had the last time I'd been so unfortunate so as to encounter her. She even wore the same clothes. The only difference from last time was that now, she wore a type of steely determination in her eyes. It was terrifying.

She punched me in the face again, but this time I was sure that my lip had busted. The girl shook her head as if to get rid of a bad thought before continuing.

I didn't stop her; I didn't fight back. I knew I deserved whatever she dished out, but I was surprised when I saw a stray tear trail down her cheek.

"You condemned innocent people to death. And for what? A few broken vases, a little shattered glass? They stood up for what they believed in and you took their lives away." She spat at me, balling up her fist for another punch.

I couldn't stand this any longer; I was like one of the bottles of soda my Aunt Adele brought me after they had been shook up. I couldn't contain myself any longer.

Hot, angry tears flooded down my face, mixing with the blood that was already there. "Don't you think I hate myself enough for it?" I yelled at her. "It's all I think about, the people that I've killed. I can't sleep, I can't eat, my own parents think I'm going crazy, I have no idea what I'm doing with my life anymore, and – and I just hurt all over."

She watched me for a moment before sitting down next to me. I scrambled up into a sitting position next to her. The girl just looked out into to space for several long moments before saying, "I'd planned on killing you."

Her eyes hardened. "I still do," she confessed, her voice nothing more than a whisper. I had to strain my ears to hear the rest. "But, maybe we can help each other."

"You believe me?" I asked incredulously.

The girl finally turned to look at me. "You can't fake the type of pain that you have. I can see it in your eyes; this is going to stay with you the rest of your life."

I shivered at her words. "H – how do you suggest we help each other?"

"I don't want the people I love to die, and you want to save lives. Am I right?"

My limbs were shaking as I slowly answered, "yes."

"Then, I think we can come to a compromise."

I began to nod, a question formed in my mind that I couldn't ignore.

"One condition," I said, watching carefully for her reaction. "You have to tell me what made you want to kill me this time."

She gritted her teeth. "Shreave – " she started, but I cut her off.

"If we're going to do this then you have to call me by my name – my first name."

"Which is?"

I was perplexed; most people already knew my name. "Maxon."

She looked at me for a long time. "My name is America," she finally admitted, and then she told me everything.

Wow, super proud of this chapter too. This chapter was actually pretty hard for me to write (which is why it took so long), but here it is! And as always please review!