I'm alive! I'm sorry for the unexpected hiatus. Life has been busy. I've been sick two times since I last posted, I went on vacation, and I lost my grandfather. Currently, I've been trying to catch up on schoolwork because I missed five days. That being said, I will be gone all of this week to go deal with my grandfather's death so I won't be writing.

Above all, I just haven't been writing (or reading) recently. I don't know what it is, but I'm not enjoying it that much. And that's why there's such a weird time skip in this chapter: I just couldn't write from where I was at.

For the cliff notes version, don't expect another chapter for another week or two. I'm hoping to post bi-weekly now, but it may be monthly (I know I've said this before; sorry for the repeat). Thank you for sticking with me, even when my posting is sporadic.

Enjoy!

-CL

Edit: There will be no new chapter this week and probably not next week. This week I've been catching up on school work and this upcoming week I work every week. I did do a little bit of revision for this chapter, so maybe check that out. I'm sorry for the wait.

-CL

"It is with great sorrow that I tell you this news: that our King, His Majesty King Maxon Schreave, has fallen into a coma after being shot at the last masquerade ball," I say, keeping the wobble out of my voice. I can hear the cameras move closer, hoping to catch a tear or two; I refuse to give them any. My deep red lip trembles, but I get it together. "The doctors are not sure when he will wake if he ever will. He was shot near his heart, causing great risk to his circulatory system. All we can do is hope and pray he comes back to us.

"Until he does, I will be ruling. Please be patient with me as I haven't been fully trained to run a country," I say with a wry smile. "Long live the King." The cameras shut off, and I immediately slump against the podium.

Ames rushes up to me. "You did great, Bella."

"Thanks, Ames," I whisper. She helps me down, leading me out of the filming room.

"Let's get you to your room," she says, careful of my ballgown.

I shake my head and feel the sweat on my forehead cool in the moving air. "I want to see Maxon."

America's face softens. "Of course, Bella," she murmurs. She turns around and walks the other way; I trail behind her. "Are you ready to be Queen?" Ames asks after a beat of silence.

"Ames, I can't be the ruling Queen without Maxon," I say, my anxiety spiking when I think about even trying. "I hardly understand anything! Just recently, Maxon had to help me look over paperwork. Fucking paperwork!"

Ames stops and turns to face me. She gently grabs my shoulders. "Breathe, Bella," she instructs. I do. "You're not going through this alone. I've had the training; I'll help you. I promise."

"Thanks, Ames," I say, tears forming. "I'm sorry. I just—I miss him so much." I pull my arms toward my body trying not to cry.

"I know, Bella," Ames says, hugging me. "I know."

"You good, Bella?" Ames asks.

"Yeah," I say, grimacing. "I think I ate that dessert too fast; my stomach is cramping."

"Do you want to pick up later?"

I shake my head. "No, I just want to get it done with." It's been over six months since Maxon has fallen into a coma, and Ames and I are trying to keep up with the royal duties. Well, I should say more like Ames with me helping a little. And I feel so bad for her because Marlee watches Annabella for the majority of the day so we can complete our tasks. Everyone is suffering from me. Let's just say I never want to be in Maxon's position and do this on my own.

It takes us almost the whole day each day to finish just enough to be on track, never ahead. I glance up and notice the stars twinkling in the night sky. My eyes tear up remembering when Maxon compared me to the night sky…God, I miss him so much.

Ames turns to me, her eyes softening. "Hey, we're good for today. Let's continue tomorrow, alright?"

I nod, exhaustion settling throughout my body. "Alright. Thanks, Ames. For everything."

"Of course, Bella," she says, hugging me. She stands up. "I'll see you in the morning."

I nod. "Good night, Ames." I stand up and follow her out the door. We part ways to make it to our own rooms before long. Ames waves before walking around the corner.

Soon after, I make it to my room. I enter and immediately head to the walk-in closet. I grab my faerie outfit that was remade and put it on. Every night, I sleep downstairs next to Maxon's hospital bed in my outfit, hoping that he'll wake up and recognize me. I want him to know that Cat was me, Bella, before anything else. I realize that it sounds delusional, crazy…but I don't care.

As soon as I get my wig situated, I'm flying downstairs, anxious that something may have happened to Maxon. I quietly make my way through the hospital toward his room. I gently open the door, closing it with a soft click behind me. I take a deep breath and turn toward Maxon.

Maxon's lying in his bed, machines galore. There's an oxygen tube in his nose, assisting with his breathing. I slowly walk toward him, the moonlight streaming through the window near his bed. I stand directly in the moonlight, looking longingly at Maxon. "Please, Maxon. Please wake up." I pause before continuing, wondering if he heard me. After a few minutes, when Maxon doesn't respond, I continue. "I can't do this without you, Maxon. I need you. Please, Maxon, please…come back to me." The tears spill over, dripping down my cheeks. I don't wipe them away, allowing them to blur my vision.

I've been pleading for Maxon to come back ever since Michael said the chance he will wake up is slim, slightly decreasing each day. I always follow this ritual: begging for Maxon to wake up, staring at him before sitting down, allowing my skirt to pool around me, and when I'm sure he won't wake up, I curl into a ball and fall asleep, stealing the extra pillow and blanket on the chair next to Maxon's bed. Ames brought those down when I refused to leave Maxon's room for the first few days when we were sure he would wake up any minute. Now…well, now it doesn't look like he'll ever wake up. I refuse to let myself grieve as if he were dead until he is pronounced dead; he wouldn't leave me on his own accord.

After staring at Maxon for a few minutes with tears freely flowing, I gather my skirt to walk near him. I lean down and kiss his forehead, something I've started doing in the past week. I just wish he could kiss me back. "I love you, Maxon," I whisper. I turn back and grab the pillow and blanket, deciding to sleep in the moonlight. I place my pillow on the ground, turning to glance at Maxon once more. The tears blur my vision, so I duck my head—

"Cat?" a voice croaks.

My head whips up, the tears fading from my eyes. I see Maxon, his eyes opened. "Maxon?" I whisper.

"Cat," he repeats, his voice rough from not using it for months.

My eyes tear up again, and I throw myself into his waiting arms, albeit carefully. "Oh, Maxon," I say between tears. I remember to tack on the British accent. Maxon squeezes me faintly. "You're back, Maxon…I love you so much, Maxon."

"Cat," he croaks. "I'm married. I can't love you back."

"No, it's alright," I say.

"Cat, no."

"Maxon, it's fine," I say. I kiss him and guide his hand up to my head. I slowly show him the wig line and understanding flashes in his eyes. He pulls the wig off, throwing it weakly toward the edge of the bed. I undo the bun and let my curls down. I cut off the kiss and say a British accent so he can put two and two together. "It's me. It's been me the whole time. I guess that's why we were attracted to each other." I look down, blushing.

"Bella—" he croaks. I look up and notice the tears trailing down his cheeks. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Maxon," I say, dropping the accent. He gestures for me to come closer. I do, my dress trailing behind me. "I'm so glad you're awake, Maxon," I say. "I—" I'm cut off by Maxon kissing me weakly but full of passion. He pulls back, slumping back into bed.

"Do you want me to notify Michael?" I ask.

Maxon shakes his head. "How about in the morning?" He starts to shake his head again, but I cut him off. "I'll sleep down here. To be honest, I've been sleeping down here ever since you've been in a coma."

"How long was I out?" he says, his voice cracking at the end.

"Six months," I respond. He flinches. "Don't worry, Ames and I have been keeping up." I yawn, remembering how tired I truly am. "I'll tell you more tomorrow." I kiss him one last time before exiting the bed.

Maxon grabs my hand. "With me."

I examine all of the cords and wires hooked up to him. I grab the blanket and carefully maneuver to lie next to him. It's a comfortable fit since the king's hospital bed is queen-sized. I allow my dress to pool over the side of the bed and pull the blanket over both of us. Maxon reaches out and spoons me, gently lulling me to sleep with his breath. The last thing I remember is Maxon whispering "Good night, my dear," and God am I happy to hear him call me that.