999 Pieces

Chapter Four: Aspen

“Officer Leger,” a butler says, walking up to me. “His Majesty would like to speak with you privately.” 

Is this man blind? 

“I’m afraid I am physically unable to see him right now,” I answer, gesturing to my wrapped leg.

“He understands that. That’s why we are going to move you,” the butler replies.

I watch as a nurse rolls a wheelchair over to my bed. She carefully helps me into it with the help of the butler.

“Thank you,” I tell the nurse once I am sitting.

“No problem, Officer,” she replies and walks away.

It’s hard to not notice all of the curious eyes watching me as I’m rolled by the butler out of the Hospital Wing. Two guards stand outside of it, waiting. They help the butler carry me up the sets of stairs, eventually reaching the third floor. Evidently, the lifts to the different floors were disabled.

The butler thanks the guards, and they return to their posts. He rolls me through the hallway and we stop at what I imagine was Maxon’s room. The butler gives a brief knock on the door before opening it.

“Your Majesty,” I say bowing my head. When I looked up I noticed his eyes are red from crying.

“Maxon. Call me Maxon,” he instructs, waving to the butler to leave.

“As you wish.”

“Would you like to drink something?” he asks, leaning against his bed.

“I’ll pass.”

Maxon is silent as he studies me. “Tell me everything,” he says finally.

I look away from him. “I was surprised when I found you with her. I wasn’t upset, really, just... Well... surprised. Later, when you left, America tried to tell me that nothing happened. She had put her hands on my chest in the intensity of her defense when you found us.”

“If only I had let her explain…” Maxon mumbles, a pained expression on his face.

“Don’t blame this on yourself, Maxon. It’s my fault too.” I sigh running a hand through my hair. “I was never able to tell her this, but I didn’t love her romantically anymore. I love Lucy, her maid. And when Lucy found out that I was America’s ex, well, she didn’t take it so well.” 

I give a short laugh. “She was devastated. We were on the plane to our flight back here by that time, so I decided to go to America and end things then and there. But she was so nervous about telling you about us, that she told me she didn’t want to talk about anything. So I wasn’t able to tell her about Lucy. That may have changed things.”

We were both silent again, unsure what else to say.

“You were a Six, correct?” Maxon asks suddenly.

I nod, unsure where he is going with that.

Maxon walks over to his bedside table and opens the top drawer, pulling a thick folder out. He hands it to me and nods for me to open and read it.

I feel my eyes widen as I read the first paragraph. Hope begins to shimmer within me as I look up to Maxon. “You’re going to dissolve the castes?”

He nods, a small smile on his lips. “It was because of America that I ever even thought of getting rid of the castes. She didn’t know I was planning all of this. I-I never got to tell her.” Maxon looks away, closing his eyes.

“She would have loved this,” I whisper, putting a hand on his shoulder, hesitating as I wonder if I’m going too far.

Maxon nods sadly, looking over to the wall next to him. I follow his gaze and suck in a breath. The wall is covered in photos. Pictures of the palace, other parts of Illea, and what I imagine is New Asia litters the wall. But the focal point is all of the pictures of the Selected and the Elite.

Just by looking at the wall, I can tell how much Maxon loves America. Her face certainly appears more than once.

“Did you take those pictures?” I ask quietly.

“Most of them. Some are from magazines.” Maxon looks back to me. “What do you think of removing the castes?”

“I can speak for many people saying that it will be greatly supported, at least in the lower castes. The Twos and Threes might not appreciate it as much.” 

Maxon pauses. “You don’t call yourself a Two?”

I shake my head. “I may be a guard on the outside, but I will always be a Six in the inside.”

Maxon smiles. “I can understand that.”

I return the smile, and continue looking at the photos.

“I owe you a lot, you know,” Maxon says suddenly. “You were one of the big reasons why I met America, plus you saved her life and my life many times.”

“Not all the time. I failed once.”

“If I can’t take the blame for America’s death, then you certainly can’t. I am more at fault than you. I understand why you took me and not her. If I was in your position, I would have done the same thing,” Maxon argues. “Anyways, what I am trying to say is I would like to give you a higher position in the guard.”

I look down. “I appreciate it, but with my leg, I don't think I will be able to be in the guard anymore. Doctor Ashlar says I will probably have a slight limp for the rest of my life.”

“Well, in that case, I could give you a position as general or an adviser,” he offers.

“Maxon, you don't have to do that,” I argue.

“But I insist. I know you are a hard worker and I could use some different views of Illea on my board,” he says.

I hesitate. “Well, if you are positive, I’ll take the General.”

Maxon gives me another small smile. “I will make arrangements so when you are better, we can get you started.”

“What are you going to do next?” I ask.

He sighs. “That, I do not know yet.”