Thank you so much for the responses from the last chapter! they were all wonderful. some of you said that you didn't really like Maxon getting drunk but I saw his relationship with his father similar to that of Chuck Bass from Gossip Girl and his dad so I took some inspiration from that. (Okay, a lot of inspiration.) so about this chapter...this is not at all what I had planned for it. in fact, I had a different chapter half-done when I started this one but I got so hooked with writing this I ended up finishing it within an hour (which explains any typos this might have).

This chapter is written in Maxon's point of view and I think you'll figure out what is going on soon enough.

"Maybe I'm scared because you mean more to me than any other person. You are everything I think about, everything I need, everything I want."

I woke up to a blinding light above me. The first thing that ran through my mind was Am I dead? I sure hoped I was dead because I wanted the pain in my chest to end. At that point I couldn't tell if it was physical or emotional; the pain from a bullet wound or the pain of heartbreak. They surely seemed like two different injuries but they felt the same to me in that moment. Surely I was bleeding out from the hole in my heart that America used to fill.

I wanted to hold her hand. I wanted to smell her perfume. I wanted her, all of her. Just when I thought I could not feel any more devastated, I realized that I didn't even know if she was alive. The last memory I have before passing out was of her being pulled away by Officer Leger…Aspen. He loved her; he had to have kept her safe, right? What if a rebel found them before they even…I stopped the thought before it could send me into a panic. Her rejection sliced open my heart but it was nothing compared to even thinking about the possibility of her being dead.

I blinked several times until my eyes adjusted to the light. Voices started reaching me as my body started to awaken again. I closed my eyes as chaos started to settle around me.

"He's responding!" someone shouted.

"Quick, stitch up the wound!" another person demanded.

"Don't worry Your Majesty, you're safe," a female voice said from close to my head. I ached for it to be America but in the haze of drugs and pain I could not remember her voice. She wouldn't call me by a title though, would she? If she was still wary of me, maybe. After what I had said to her before the attack I wouldn't blame her for being scared of me. I was scared of me.

I started pinpointing voices though, one of them being Dr. Ashlar. "Do we have an update on the girl?" he asked someone. I heard something snipping like it was being cut by scissors.

"No, Doctor, we've only gotten to some of the safe rooms. August and Gavril just left to start sweeping the other side of the palace," someone reported. I didn't recognize that voice.

"Have you checked the bodies yet?" Dr. Ashlar asked calmly as if he was asking about the weather. I watched my world get turned upside down before passing out but those last few moments of consciousness were focused on getting America to safety that everything else seemed unimportant.

Something crashed nearby and someone yelled, "We have guards who need help now!"

A different person started reading off names. "Officer Dutill, Officer Brown, Officer Blanks, Officer Sheller, and Officer Leger. All with serious injuries, non-life-threatening as far as we know but they need immediate attention."

Leger…Aspen Leger. America's lover. He was hurt but alive. What did that mean for her? What time was it? I opened my eyes to raise my left arm to check my watch but was met with blinding pain when I barely moved my arm. I must have cried out because someone started soothing me. A cold compress was pressed against my forehead but I just wanted to know if America was alive or not and I was ready to rip the compress away from me in order to get out of there.

"Send Dr. Freud and Dr. Macky to them!" Dr. Ashlar instructed. His voice was a bit more panicked and I could tell he was standing over me, his face actually kind of close. He must have been studying the fire in my chest intently. I couldn't remember him ever sounding anything but calm.

There was another crash close by. I realized that it must have been the doors slamming open and closed. "Doctor, we need to clear the OR as soon as possible. We may have to amputate Leger's leg," a woman reported in a strained and urgent voice. For some reason I shuddered at the news. This was bad. This was all so bad. I had to be taking care of my people, not lying in an operating room helpless.

"I'm working as fast as I can Candice!" Dr. Ashlar yelled. "He wasn't even alive until a couple minutes ago!" So I was dead. How long? If people were starting to arrive here that meant the attack had to be over. Then I realized that I was still in the company of my staff. That had to mean that the Southerners were put to rest, right? But how? My men were vastly outnumbered and unprepared. But what did that person say before? August was here, he was checking safe rooms. I had to know what had happened.

"King Maxon," Dr. Ashlar suddenly said in a serious voice. "I'm giving you a small dose of pain medicine and sedative. We're moving you up to your room. I'm sorry but we don't know where America is."

The last thing I remember before falling asleep is not the news about America but what he had called me. There was no way I heard him correctly. My parents…I was Prince Maxon. King?

I woke up and found the room quiet, the silence deafening compared to that of the hospital. My eyes took in the familiar dark wood of my bed above me. I tried to move my left arm but found that it was only tingly and otherwise unresponsive. The other arm seemed unharmed though. The fire in my chest had been dulled to a slow simmer. I looked around and saw one of our senior advisers sitting at my desk. He noticed that I was awake and came over to me.

"Your Majesty, what do you need?" he asked, concern written all over his face.

"Water," I croaked out. He immediately went to my bathroom and I heard the faucet turn on.

He returned and gave me the glass of water. "Sir, Dr. Ashlar would like to see you as soon as possible." I nodded and started to move to the edge of the bed slowly and painfully. Stavros's eyes widened. "Your Majesty, what are you doing?" he demanded.

"Going to see Dr. Ashlar," I told him plain as day. "And you cannot do anything to stop me." I felt like if I stayed in that bed one more minute I would explode.

I slowly made my way to the open door and leaned on it as my vision cleared again, the pain threatening to send me back into unconsciousness. Why didn't they give me more pain medicine? I stepped out into the middle of the hallway and saw the destruction laid out before me. Glass littered the floor, making it look like it was made out of diamonds. Curtains hung over the windows, some torn and others in a heap on the floor. There seemed to be hundreds of people in this hallway that normally only saw three people a day. Maids were hard at work, sweeping up the glass and guards were standing in clusters. Everyone stopped what they were doing when they noticed me, dipping into deep bows. They were whispering something but I couldn't quite make it out.

Gavril was approaching me, his face ashen. My heart seized. This was it…he was about to tell me that America didn't make it. She was gone forever. Despite my best efforts, I wasn't able to save her. Then he put a hand on my shoulder. "Your Majesty, I am so sorry I am the one that has to deliver this news to you," he began. "But, it seems your parents did not survive the attack."

A guard standing beside him started recounting what happened but I was only half-listening. Grief settled on my shoulders like concrete. "What?" I choked out, cutting off the guard. Then I realized what everyone was whispering. It seemed to swell together into a chorus until it almost overwhelmed me.

"…the king."

"Long…king."

"Long live…"

"Long live the king."

The reality of what my life had become within hours pressed in on me. I went from being engaged to single, from prince to king, from euphoric to dismal. There was no grand spectacle about it. There were no fireworks, no cherubs singing from the rafters of a cathedral, not even a crown…just like that, standing in the hallway in my pajamas with one arm bound in a sling, barely able to stand on my feet, not having any idea of whether the love of my life was alive or not, I became king.

My eyes burned and I realized I was about to cry. How wonderful it would be for me to cry in the first few seconds of my reign. I quickly reigned in my emotions and nodded slowly, trying to put feeling in my neck and shoulders again. In my entire body really. Where was America? I had the aching feeling that she was supposed to be there next to me. "Well, I have a lot to get done then," I announced, turning and heading back to my room.

The sun was just rising, finally giving away the time. My world was crashing down but the sun still knew to rise. How? Did it not know the devastation occurring within this palace's walls? I settled myself back in bed and other advisers started coming in with paperwork and questions that I was supposed to know the answers to but my father had never disclosed the information I needed in order to answer them.

A couple times I actually asked someone to go ask him but with a heavy heart I realized that I didn't have that option. My father wasn't in his study downstairs. My mother wasn't in the other room. I was alone. Utterly alone. There was that but there was also the fact that America's life was in the balance and I didn't know where it was in the balance.

"Your Majesty," Stavros eventually said. "There is one matter that must be settled sooner rather than later."

I lifted my head to meet his gaze and realized that everyone in the room stopped what they were doing in anticipation for Stavros's question. "Yes?" I asked, hating the way my voice shook.

He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor. "You need a wife…a queen."

This was the question I feared most. How was I supposed to answer if I didn't even know if America was alive? I knew what I had to do. "If Lady America is able, I wish for her to be sent here as soon as possible. If not, I will be marrying Elise Whisks."

Everyone in the room drew in a collective gasp at this change in events. I had eliminated Elise along with Celeste but I could use her for some sort of alliance with New Asia. Ending that war was completely up to me now and because I didn't know how to organize fighters I could only think to form some sort of treaty. No one answered me; they all just slowly went back to work.

The sun started to shine on my floor through my balcony doors as Stavros leaned closer to me with a paper I had to sign. They all were starting to blur together but I realized this one was signing off on some sort of agreement with Twos and their taxes. My hand froze, hovering above the page, remembering the stack of papers sitting in my bedside table.

For the third time that morning, everyone suddenly went quiet and bowed and I realized I had a visitor.

"Thank you," I heard someone say from outside the door. It was her. I knew it right away.

And then there, standing in the doorway, was America. Her dress was hanging in pieces and her hair looked limp and knotted. Bandages covered her arms, almost matching my left arm. Her eyes were puffy and swollen and I knew she had been crying. She had been crying a lot because her make-up was smudged on her cheeks. She was never more beautiful than she was in that moment.

When her eyes rested on me they were relieved and then replaced by a foreign emotion, one I had not seen in her before. I realized it was caution. I smiled at the thought of her for once showing a little fear. She sank down into a low curtsy though I didn't miss the small wobble in her ankles. "Your Majesty," she sighed. I had never seen anything more breathtaking than her. The sight of her seemed to lift all of the weight on my shoulders.

"Set the papers here, Stavros. Would everyone please leave the room? I need to speak with the lady," I told them all. It was the first time I was really exercising my power and I could not think of a better reason for it.

Everyone bowed and left, Stavros being the last one after placing the paper on the bedside table. I caught him smiling as he left, no doubt suspecting what I was about to do. Then I looked at her again. God, every time I laid eyes on her I felt like I was seeing her for the first time. Why wasn't she coming to me though? She held her ground ten feet from me but it felt like ten miles.

"I'm so sorry about your parents," she said quietly and I knew she was.

"It doesn't seem real yet," I admitted. I motioned for her to sit on the bed in front of me because I wanted her close. I was so tired of being separated from her and if I had my way, that wouldn't be a problem anymore. "I keep thinking that Father is in his study and Mom's downstairs, and any minute one of them will come in here with something for me to do."

She sighed. She was still avoiding eye contact. "I know exactly what you mean."

I smiled at her, realizing that she did indeed know what I meant. "I know you do." I had to hold her hand and my arm seemed to move of its own accord. She put her hand in mine and relaxed slightly. "She tried to save him. A guard told me a rebel had my father in his sights, but she ran behind him. She went down first, but they got Father immediately after." It didn't hurt any less to say it out loud and quite frankly I didn't know why I was telling her but I had to tell someone. I had to get it out. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. "She was always selfless. To her very last breath."

A corner of America's mouth turned up. "You shouldn't be so surprised. You're a lot like her."

I frowned, not seeing that at all. "I'll never be quite as good as her. I'm going to miss her so much." And I already did. I missed both of my parents but there was just something about my mother that made me gravitate toward her. Probably the same thing that made my father pick her. I felt America's thumb rub across the back of my hand and I could see the grief in her own eyes. Mother had always been partial to America and made it no secret to me that she hoped I would choose her. I tried to look on the bright side though because my grief was diluted by the immense relief I felt in America still being alive. "At least you're safe. At least there's that."

I didn't know what else to say after that and I could tell that she was dying to ask me something but she held back for some reason. That was so unlike her. I had to show her somehow that I still loved her. I was scared that every second that went by without me saying something to her she would distance herself even more. The things I had said to her were unforgivable but I didn't know where to begin apologizing. Then I caught a glance at the paper sitting next to me.

An idea popped into my head and I knew that it was now or never. I had to propose to her now. Everything was so wrong in my world but I suddenly couldn't imagine it happening anywhere else. "There's something I want to show you," I told her, catching her by surprise by my sudden enthusiasm. "Mind you, it's a bit rough, but I think you'll still like it. Open the drawer here. It should be on the top." I pointed to my bedside table and she did as I said.

I held my breath as she pulled out the documents. She looked confused but I nodded to her to read. I could see the questions lingering in her eyes as she continued to read, a crease appearing between her eyebrows as she concentrated. Then disbelief covered her features. "Are you…you're going to dissolve the castes?" She finally looked up to me and I could see the bewilderment.

I smiled. "That's the plan." I could see excitement building in her and I knew I had to warn her. "I don't want you to get too excited. This will take a long time to do, but I think it will work. You see," I leaned forward to flip to the page I knew the plan was on, "I want to start from the bottom. I'm planning on eliminating the Eight label first. There's a lot of construction we need to do; and I feel like, with a little bit of work, the Eights could be absorbed into the Sevens. After that, it gets tricky. There's got to be a way to get rid of the stigmas that come along with the numbers, but that's my goal." And it was. It was a rough outline of the plan but it was at least a start. With her help there was no doubt in my mind that we could accomplish this.

She still looked shocked and kept reading the words on the paper like they were the most precious thing she had ever held in her hands. Come to think of it, for her, it probably was. I touched her hand again. "I want you to know that this is all your doing. Since the day you called me into the hallway and told me about being hungry, I've been working on this. It was one of the reasons I got so upset after you did your presentation; I had a quieter way of reaching the exact same goal. But of all the things I wanted to do for my country, this would have never crossed my mind if I hadn't known you."

I could still remember my shock from hearing her testimony that day and the devious thrill that ran through me when I found this as a solution. Then the heartbreak when I heard her presentation and realized that we had the same idea. Of course, because of our wildly different temperaments, her plan was not like mine.

She was taking short, excited breaths as she kept reading. I leaned forward and reached under the pillow, my fingers finding the small box that had been underneath. She was so focused she had no idea what I was doing right in front of her. I opened it and stared at the ring, knowing that it was a symbol of my love for her and that soon it was going to show the world that she was mine. "There's something else," I told her hesitantly, my hand shaking as I pushed the ring over the papers.

"I've been sleeping with that darn thing under my pillow," I chuckled, the words coming out before I could stop them. She looked up at me with even more questions in her eyes than before and all I could think of saying was, "Do you like it?"

She looked away from me and back down to the ring. She stared at it, not blinking as if she was scared it would disappear right before her eyes if she did. She opened her mouth to speak, several times actually, but she was so overcome with emotion that she just nodded, covering up her tears that I could see were gathering in her beautiful eyes.

I cleared my throat because my own eyes were starting to burn. "Twice now I've tried to do this on a grand scale and failed spectacularly. As it is, I can't even get on one knee. I hope you won't mind if I just speak to you plainly."

She simply nodded. I shrugged my right shoulder, ignoring the pain that still bit into my chest every time I moved. "I love you," I said, that being the best thing I could think of to start with. I forgot my speech just like I thought I would but by the look on her face, I knew I had her. I knew she was ready to commit. "I should have told you a long time ago. Maybe we could have avoided so many mistakes if I had. Then again," I added, seeing the mischief mixing with the tears sparkling in her eyes, "sometimes I think it was all those obstacles that made me love you so deeply."

Her tears were about to spill over and I thought back to those obstacles. My infuriation at her attacking me in the garden that led to my awe at her audacity. Her pulling away, time and time again. My father questioning her constantly and every time I got a little more defensive until I couldn't bear for him to say one more thing about her. My life shifted from being dedicated to my parents to being dedicated to her.

"What I said was true," I resumed, recalling my last words to her before Leger took her away during the attack. "My heart is yours to break. As you already know, I'd rather die than see you in pain. In the moment I was hit, when I fell to the floor sure my life was ending, all I could think about was you." I had to stop because it felt like cotton balls were lodged in my throat. Tears were threatening to spill over my eyes as well as hers.

"In those seconds, I was mourning everything I'd lost. How I'd never get to see you walk down an aisle toward me, how I'd never get to see your face in our children, how I'd never get to see streaks of silver in your hair. But, at the same time, I couldn't be bothered. If me dying meant you living," I shrugged again, painfully, "how could that be anything but good?"

She completely lost it at that. Her tears spilled over and she sobbed, putting a hand over her heart. Then she took a deep breath and met my eyes, wiping her tears away with her free hand. "America," I said again, her name being the most wonderful word that had ever passed through my lips, "I know you see a king here, but let me clear; this isn't a command. This is a request, a plea. I beg you; make me the happiest man alive. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife."

She shook her head and for a horrifying second I thought she was saying no but then she threw her arms around me. My happiness overshadowed the pain searing through my shoulder and chest as I held her closer. I kissed her, forcefully at first but then slower, deeper…trying to convey everything I couldn't have said through my actions.

I pulled away and looked at her. I had once thought of this place as a prison where I'd be jailed under my father's aggressive rule and temper but she made this place beautiful, the way I remembered it from my childhood. She was my home, my family. And my life focused into a pinhole on the one word that passed through her lips.

"Yes."

How was that? I hope everyone liked it! Tell me what you think!

P.S. anyone else here watch Reign? did you watch it last night? Because...yeah...I just can't even.