I know y'all have waited a while for this update; I've had extremely limited wifi and time with the amount of work i've been doing for my job this summer. Hope y'all enjoy!

America

"This feels wrong," I said to Maxon as we walked down to the hospital the next day. "It feels wrong for us to be making this decision for my mom. She's still in there, she's still living."

He frowned in sympathy. "I know it seems unfair but at least there is someone who loves her that can make this decision."

"Maxon, if you'd had to decide whether or not your parents lived, would you have been able to do it?" It was probably a low blow but I just didn't think he understood how I was feeling.

"I'm not belittling the responsibility you have here, America," he said in a measured voice. "I'm just trying to make you see that at least you have this decision. I would have much rather been able to decide that my parents would die peacefully in their sleep instead of in a rebel attack." I opened my mouth to retort but he stopped me by raising his hand. "Look, we're both tired and emotional. I think we should just take a deep breath and stop discussing this."

I nodded, but only because I wasn't in the mood to fight with him. Arthur and Dr. Ashlar were already waiting for us in the hospital when we arrived. Maxon kissed me and bid me farewell before heading up to his office. I took a seat next to Arthur.

Dr. Ashlar smiled grimly at us and bowed his head to me. "Queen America, thank you for taking the time out of your schedule to come here."

"It was no problem," I told him stiffly, eyeing my mother's still form in her bed.

"We're here to decide our next plan of action," Dr. Ashlar said. "We have two options. The first is that we keep her on the breathing machine and let her die here in the hospital. The second is that we discharge her and let her die in her quarters here at the palace. I would want her to stay in the palace but I'm sure we can make her plenty comfortable here."

"For sure," I confirmed. Her room hadn't been used in several months but I could easily get someone to go in there and spruce it up for her.

"How much time would she have, Doctor?" Arthur asked.

Dr. Ashlar sighed and tapped his fingers against his knees. "She'd have longer here in the hospital, I can say that."

"Amber's baby will be born in August. Will she be able to meet her grandchild?" I pressed, wanting to get a definitive timeline.

"Unfortunately, I don't think so. I think she has a month, maybe two."

Arthur stood up abruptly and paced near the window. "I want her to be comfortable," he said decisively. "I don't want to prolong her life because I am being selfish and don't want to lose her. She should be able to die surrounded by her family in the comfort of a warm bed, not hooked up to a ventilator and breathing tube."

I opened my mouth to argue but then I actually took in what he was saying. How much of my reluctance to let my mother leave the hospital was out of my own selfishness? I could easily justify that by stating that as my only parent, I did not want to lose her yet. But if I had to choose between her living longer and suffering through her last days or losing her sooner while she's comfortable, it made more sense to choose the latter.

"America?" Dr. Ashlar asked, grabbing my attention. He could probably tell that I wasn't paying attention.

"I agree with Arthur," I forced myself to say.

Dr. Ashlar seemed to study me for a few moments, trying to see how supportive I actually was feeling. Finally he wrote something down on his clipboard and then passed a paper over to me. "A family member has to sign," he explained when I just stared at the paper. Arthur and my mom had been together for so long that it was easy to forget that they weren't officially a couple.

I quickly signed the paper, my hand shaking the whole time and making my signature look sloppy. "Arthur, I can start making preparations with Silvia and my head of staff if you'd like," I told him.

He nodded, looking down at my mother in a daze. "Yes, that sounds good." I kissed Mom's forehead quickly and then went up to our study. I had to keep busy, otherwise I would go crazy. Silvia, however, was waiting for me there and she had other plans.

"Your Majesty, I hate to bother you but I must remind you that the tea with the German Federation and Italian royal family is tomorrow," she said, biting her lip nervously as she awaited my reaction.

"Is it really tomorrow?" I asked, looking down at my desk calendar. There in the box for the next day was a reminder for the tea.

Maxon, who had been sitting at his desk reading over a report, looked up at me. "You've been planning it for the last few weeks, dearest," he gently reminded me.

"Yeah, yeah, it just completely slipped my mind with everything else going on." I sat down in my desk and chewed on the end of one of my pens. "We can't cancel; they're probably getting ready to leave as we speak."

"Cancel?" Silvia practically screamed. "Why on earth would we be cancelling?"

I blinked up at her, surprised by her outburst. "I have to take care of my mother and help her and Arthur get settled in her rooms. I don't have time to waste on an afternoon sipping tea with people that are already established as allies to us."

"Perhaps there is someone else who can help with those arrangements? How about your sisters?"

"Dearest," Maxon interjected, "perhaps Amber can take your place at the tea? Like you said, she has very little diplomatic responsibility for this tea and it could be another way for her to prepare for being queen."

"Amber," I sighed, considering her competence in this. It was all planned. Silvia could handle the last-minute details. All Amber would have to do is show up on time, dressed respectively. "I suppose she could."

Silvia nodded and made a note on her clipboard. "Would you like to tell her or should I, Your Majesty?"

"I will. Thank you, Silvia. Could I give you the responsibility of checking the flower arrangements and menu tomorrow morning?"

"It would be my pleasure, ma'am." Silvia curtsied and then left, typing something on her small tablet that Maxon and I had given her the year before for Christmas.

When she was gone, I buried my face in my hands. Just seconds later I felt Maxon's hands on my shoulders, gently kneading out the knots and tension. "Everything's going to work out," he assured me, placing a kiss behind one of my ears. He tugged on it playfully.

"I just feel like I'm already grieving her, you know? And I don't want to be doing that. I want to appreciate every moment I still have her," I admitted, feeling the tears from the night before return.

"I know, love."

I leaned my head back so that it was resting against his stomach and so that I could look up at him. Times like these I realized just how lucky I was to have him in my life. Maxon and I had been through so many ups and downs before even getting married that we were extremely well equipped to go through tough times together as a team. We each had our roles in times of trouble. Maxon was Mr. Make-A-Plan-And-Fix-It and I was Mrs. Let's-Do-The-First-Thing-That-Comes-To-Mind. We really made a good team.

Amber stumbled in then, looking extremely disgruntled to be awake before noon. "Sleep well?" Maxon joked. I smacked his hand, rolling my eyes at him. He had told me this morning that he had seen Amber sneaking down to Kile's room the night before. I had scolded him for not stopping them until he reminded me that she was already pregnant; what was the worst that could happen?

Amber clearly didn't appreciate Maxon's comment as she plopped down into a chair across from me. "Silvia said you wanted to speak with me," she said in a groggy voice.

"Do you mind covering the tea for me tomorrow afternoon?" I asked her.

She considered it for a few moments, blinking at me with bleary eyes. "The one with the German Federation and the Italians? Why aren't you going?"

"Your mother will be very busy these next few days helping Grandma move into her new rooms downstairs," Maxon replied for me. "It would really help ease the burden if you did this for her tomorrow. Plus it'd be good practice for when you're queen someday!" He tried to add that last part to make it appealing but all he got was a scowl. Amber was no more of a morning person than I was at her age.

She shrugged. "I mean, I don't really have anything better to do. Do I have to wear a dress?" she asked me.

I nodded and added, "And heels. Preferably a tiara as well."

"The whole getup?" She raised her eyebrows at me in disbelief. "Mom, these women have known me since I was in diapers. Since when do I have to wear the whole nine for a simple tea?"

"Because as queen you sometimes have to reestablish your professionalism in front of your peers. Even if it means being overdressed for an afternoon with friends. I wore a dress and heels every day during the Selection."

"No, you didn't," Maxon argued in a troubled voice.

I held up a hand for him to stop talking. "The point is, you must be dressed and ready to go tomorrow at two. Silvia will welcome them; all you have to do is wait for them in the Women's Room. Do you have anything to wear? You can borrow one of my old dresses." I felt bad, suddenly remembering that I hadn't ever instructed Parrah to make any maternity dresses.

"Yeah, Parrah took my measurements a couple days ago to make a new batch of dresses."

"Good. Any other questions?"

"Can I go back to bed?"

I smiled and shook my head. "But feel free to pick up a book. Who knows? You might actually learn something."

She rolled her eyes as she stood up and stretched her back. "You're really funny."

Amber

Queen Nicoletta seemed to never age. The earliest memory I had of her was when I was around six where she joined Mom in a karaoke battle in the music room and she looked exactly the same now, twelve years later. There may have been a few more smile lines around her eyes and mouth but even her long dark hair was left untouched by time with just a few wisps of gray at her temples.

She breezed into the Women's Room right on time, her hips swaying elegantly. "Queen Nicoletta," I greeted, bobbing my head to her.

"Mia bella, there is no need for you to greet me so formally! Not only have I known you since you were in diapers, I'm pretty sure I've changed your diapers," she joked, making me blush.

This woman had so much enthusiasm. I wondered how Dad could even spend time with her and Mom in the same room. It must be exhausting to be around them. It was a nice contrast to have the Italians and Germans in the same room though. Queen Gretel was normally demure but standing next to Queen Nicoletta, she couldn't have been more placid. "Thanks for that reminder, Zia," I said, trying to pass off my embarrassment as appreciation.

"And now you're having one of your own!" Nicoletta exclaimed. "When I found out that one of my closest friends was becoming a grandmother, I could hardly believe it but here you are!" I touched my bump, feeling the baby move ever so slightly. I searched Nicoletta's eyes for any hint of judgment but couldn't find any. This was really the first time I was doing something diplomatic since being noticeably pregnant and I had been nervous despite the fact that I was essentially surrounded by family. "Are you excited?"

"I am, actually. It was kind of a shock at first but I think I'm finally getting used to the idea of being, you know, a mom."

Nicoletta smiled warmly at me and I saw a little bit of the maturity in her face that came with motherhood. "And you only just got used to the idea of being queen. I can't imagine becoming a queen and a mother all at once."

"It is a lot but my Aunt Daphne was in a similar situation so I've been talking to her a bit for advice."

"Oh, well if you ever get tired of talking to that dragon, feel free to call me." She leaned down and wrote her phone number down on a cloth napkin, not seeming to care one bit that she was writing on a piece of fabric that cost as much as her shoes. "But please, use it with discretion. I gave my number to your mother once and next thing I know she's calling and asking me to aid the rebels!"

I nodded and smiled but it felt kind of wrong to be making fun of Mom without her here. Even though she would just shake her head at that, I still missed having her here with me for these things. But it was something I'd have to get used to if I was going to be queen. "How's your sister?" I asked Nicoletta, trying to steer the conversation to nicer territory.

"My, I never knew giving up the throne could bring so much happiness. I mean, truly, ever since she broke her engagement with that prince and she gave up her title, she has been floating."

"She gave up the crown?" I repeated. The last I had heard was that she was marrying some prince in Asia.

Nicoletta sipped her wine and shrugged nonchalantly. "Said she wanted to live her own life. I can't blame her. Having people looking over your shoulder all the time does get exhausting. She's just been traveling the world, doing things she would never have been able to do as a princess."

I fought the urge to gape at Nicoletta. Giving up the crown was practically unheard of in our world. You had to really not want it in order to give it up. Abdicating meant giving up all of your wealth, all of your comfort in life. Just being a normal person. It meant not having to go to afternoon teas as a substitute for your mother. It meant not having to send good men off to war. It meant sleeping in until noon and wearing yoga pants because you were pregnant and really should be able to do anything you want.

"Your Highness?" Someone tapped on my shoulder.

I shook my head, realizing that a maid had been asking for my attention for quite some time without my realizing it. "Oh, I'm sorry. What is it?" I asked her.

"Dr. Ashlar sent these pills for you to take," she said, holding a small silver tray with a couple small pink pills on it. I nodded and took them, quickly chasing them down with some tea.

The maid left quietly. Nicoletta leaned close to me as if she was about to share a secret. "So…are you having a prince or princess?"

"Um, I don't know. I wanted it to be a surprise," I told her. I had this automatic urge to bristle whenever someone asked me anything about the baby. There was a very strong desire in me to just take my baby and run for the hills where we could live in privacy, far away from the chaos of being a royal.

"You don't care about having an heir?" Queen Gretel asked, sounding appalled.

I shook my head. "Am I supposed to?"

Nicoletta laughed like it should have been obvious to me. "Mia bella, you are the future queen of Illéa. Your child is the future king or queen."

"I would like to think that my baby is more than a matter of state," I quipped, starting to feel defensive. "And what I choose to do in this pregnancy is my decision, no one else's."

Queen Nicoletta held her hands up in front of her and then turned to Queen Gretel. "I think the young princess could use some time to cool off. Come, let's discuss that scandalous Emperor Xin." Nicoletta and Queen Gretel walked over in the direction of the sandwich table just as Win entered and drew up to my side.

"Need a breath of fresh air?" she asked, seeing the annoyance clear on my face.

"A breath? More like a whole oxygen tank."

A corner of her mouth pulled up slowly. "Well, the good news is that this tea only has another half hour before it's supposed to end," she said, checking her watch and observing the room. I looked over at Win, noticing how she stood so poised with her shoulders back and her chin lifted at an elegant angle. She would make an excellent queen. Why couldn't she have been born before me? "Although, if you wanted to claim sudden illness, I wouldn't be adverse to wrapping things up for you."

My mouth dropped open. "Really?"

She shrugged. "I actually quite enjoy these things. Go," she nodded to the door. "I passed Kile on my way up; he's just gotten off his shift."

I kissed her cheek. "You're the best sister ever."

"I know I am," she said but I was already halfway out the door. Win was truly the better fit for a queen. She liked going to teas and galas but she liked the diplomacy aspect of them. I just liked a good party. She could sit in on long meetings and still look placid by the end of it. Maybe it was just her skill of performing that was translating but whatever it was, she pulled off being constantly attentive and interested.

I walked into Kile's room without even knocking. From the sound of it, he was in the bathroom doing something that involved the sink running. When he finally came out, I was lying on my back on his bed. "Did you ever want to do something similar to your dad?" I asked him, not even saying hi.

He was unsurprised by my sudden question, merely plopping down on top of his covers so that his leg was by my head. "What do you mean?"

"Like, your dad is a guard. Did you ever consider going into the guard or the military like him?"

Kile frowned and ran a hand down his face. "My dad never chose to be a guard; he was drafted. But it's not he ever pressured me to follow in his footsteps. He and my mom always encouraged us to do whatever we wanted. I think by my dad not getting a choice in career, he really made it clear to us that without castes we could do whatever."

It made no sense. Kile's parents had no problem reminding their kids that without castes, the sky was the limit for their careers. It seemed like of everyone in the country, I was the only one still trapped by my nonexistent caste and it was because the very people who abolished them couldn't imagine that I would want to do anything besides be queen. "Did you ever consider going into a career field that your parents didn't want you to go into?"

"No, but the decision to go to Africa was not taken lightly. In fact, my mother didn't agree with the plan to go there until I was standing on the tarmac at the airport and she had no choice in whether or not to say goodbye." He shrugged and gently removed the tiara from my hair, setting it on his bedside table. "I like you better without your crown."

I smiled sadly at him. "Me too, I think." He returned the sad smile and I could see that he understood all of my questions. Suddenly I sat up on my knees so that I was kneeling in front of him. "Let's go somewhere."

"What?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Let's just leave the palace and live somewhere exotic, like Morocco."

"Morocco?"

I nodded. "Morocco. You can open a practice and we can have a family and we won't have to worry about war strategizing meetings and budgeting and looking perfect all the time. Let's go."

He shook his head. "I have to finish my residency with Dr. Ashlar and you have to be queen."

"No, I don't have to be queen." He looked at my in confusion. Obviously he understood that I was feeling trapped but not that I actually wanted to escape. "There are four other heirs behind me. My parents always said that it was my choice."

"But you made your choice when you married Derrick, didn't you? You've been training to be queen for months now Amber. The country thinks you're going to be the next queen. Are you really going to give all of that up?"

I relaxed marginally at his question. He wasn't asking me to not give it up; he was asking me if it was something I really wanted because once done, there was no going back. "I'm sure."

He played with my fingers, studying them intently for a while. "I have a deal. Let's get this baby born nice and healthy, let me finish my job here, and then maybe we can discuss moving to Morocco."

I threw my arms around him, pushing him back further into bed. "Thank you so much!" I squealed in his ear. "You would really move to Morocco for me?"

"I love you," Kile answered. He hesitated and then added, "There is one other thing I would like for us to do."

"What's that?"

He smiled conspiratorially. "If you really want to break the rules, I think you'd agree with this."

I shared his smile. "Okay, I'm intrigued."

"Let's not get married. Let's live together and have babies and own a house and not be married."

"Not into the whole matrimony thing, huh?"

"I just don't see the point. My parents never had a real wedding yet they're more in love than most couples out there. Magda and Arthur aren't married but they're still happy. To me, it's just a technicality, a piece of paper that says you share the same last name."

I sighed and played with the collar of his shirt. "If that's what you want."

"It's what I want."

"Then let's not get married." He laughed as I tucked my head into his shoulder.

"My parents will be pissed."

I shrugged and laughed with him. "There're worse things that could happen. Like eloping." I felt fatigue tugging at my consciousness so I got comfortable at his side, pulling a fleece blanket over our legs and whispering, "Tell me a story."

He sank down further into his pillows to get himself comfortable in the bed as well. "Sometime ten years from now, you and I will be going to bed just like this. We'll be in our little bungalow in Morocco that also serves as my practice. We'll be dealing with this child's angsty pre-teen years and we'll have a little baby of our own. And we'll be completely, one-hundred percent happy there." I fell asleep as he continued speaking, dreaming of a duty-free, blissful future.