The Prince (Maxon's Selection POV)

Chapter One

This fanfiction takes place from Prince Maxon's point of view after the events of The Prince By Kiera Cass. In case you haven't read it or need a refresher, this is after his and America's first date where America knees him in the "thigh". These characters are not mine and this is my first fanfiction. Sorry for any misspellings!

-theselectionseriesfan

It was the next day. I got ready for breakfast, wondering what on earth I was going to say to America. I stepped into the dining hall, trying my best to not give away how my date went with my expression. Father stared at me, telling without words that the date better have been the last I would have with a five. I swallowed and look around the room at all the ladies coming in. All of a sudden, I heard shouting from the hallway.

Shit, I thought slamming my fork down on the table, why now?

"To the back of the room, ladies" Father yelled, running to the window to pull down the metal shade. Mother and I quickly followed him pulling the other shades down over the windows. A group of guards sprinted into the dining hall, into a line, and the doors were closed, bolted, and secured with bars.

"They're inside the walls, Majesty, but we're holding them back. The ladies should leave, but we're so close to the door-"

"Understood, Markson" Father replied interrupting Officer Markson.

I searched the room for America, and saw her running to pull down another metal shade with a few other girls following to do the same. To my horror, something crashed into the shade she was pulling down, sending her backwards.

I ran to her immediately, "Are you hurt?" I asked, worried.

"No, I'm fine."

"To the back of the room. Now!" I ordered, helping her up. I raced down the hall, snatching up girls who were frozen, with shock or fear, bringing them to the back of the room. There was so much crying, and one girl fainted. What was her name? Tiny? Thankfully, not all of the girls were crying, some like Celeste were the picture of ease.

Father's arm was wrapped around Mother as he talked with a guard. I noticed a couple of the girls staring at them in awe, including America. Walking to some of the girls, I asked them if they were ok, and awkwardly tried to stop their crying, but failed. Two of them even asked to leave when this was over. Finally I went to America, and stood beside her, staring at the flowers that held her gaze, not sure what to say.

"Are you doing all right?" I asked finally.

"Yes" she whispered.

I paused, "You seem unwell."

"What will happen with my maids?" she asked, worried.

"Your maids?" I asked. Why would she be worried for her maids?

"Yes my maids" she said, looking into my eyes with a fierce look, shaming me. I stared back, realizing that she wasn't far from being a maid herself.

"They should be hiding by now. The help have their own places to wait. The guards are very good about getting around quickly and alerting everyone. They ought to be fine. We usually have an alarm system, but the last time they came through, the rebels thoroughly dismantled it. They've been working on it, but......" I sighed.