What the Rebels Want: Maxon & America Schreave

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I bent my toes as they reached the icy cold water. A chill ran up my feet stopping at my ankles. Maxon gently stuck in his toes too, wrapping his arm around my shoulders in the process.

"You know, I've never done this before," he commented.

"Really?" I asked, genuinely shocked. But then I realized that he was a prince, now a king, extremely busy with his kingdom and people. Of course he never had time. "Well, enjoy it while it lasts."

"America, can I tell you a secret?"

I tilted my head to look up at him. "A secret? Sure," I giggled. I planted a brief kiss onto his lips, and as I was about to pull away, he came back and kissed me harder.

He leaned his forehead against mine. "I hate the castes as much as you do," I nodded vigorously, "But I think something's going to happen. Maybe something even worse than the Rebels."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my forehead creasing in confusion.

"Why do you think General Marty left?"

"Did it occur to you that he retired of old age?"

"The day we announce the castes are gone. No." Maxon shook his head. "Think about how much of a coincidence that is."

"Well, you are King. You could find him and ask..." Maxon's eyes traveled to the right in thought.

"Maybe I will."

I wanted to say that this was our honeymoon, and that we shouldn't be talking about this, but other than this, there wasn't anything too interesting to talk about. Well, maybe there were a few things.

"Tell me about your childhood, my dear," I kissed his right cheek and then his left cheek. I casted a brief glance at his eyes as they fluttered shut.

"Maybe later," he mumbled. I stopped kissing him. "What?" He whined, snapping his eyes open. I laid on my back, my feet still in the water, and waited for Maxon to join me. When he did, I pulled one leg out of the water and wrapped it around his outer leg. Then I draped my hand on his shoulder and rested my head on him.

"I want cute childhood stories. Now," I fake demanded, breaking down into a giggle fit when Maxon sighed.

"Well, it was... Jeez, Christmas and I was 5. We had this huge towering tree in the middle of the grand hall, and I loved to run around it. I also loved to hide inside the leaves for hours until my mom would find me. Then Christmas day came, and I got tons and tons of presents."

"Aww, poor Maxon," I teased him. I couldn't help but feel jealous. Yes, I had my fair share of presents as a young child, but I couldn't imagine the amount he had.

"But I didn't want most of them. Like, I wanted the red car instead of the blue one." He paused for a moment, letting out a short laugh. "So, I went into the servants headquarters, about a week later, and gave out some of the toys I didn't want. At first, the kids were skeptical, but I insisted they keep it."

"What about the blue car?" I asked.

"I gave it to a baby, 3 years younger than me. 2 years old--"