Song: Battlefield by Jordin Sparks
I ran a hand through my hair as we pulled up to the French palace, where we would be staying for the next and last two days we had in France. I still hadn't worked up the nerve to tell America about what'd happened between Daphne and I. I didn't want to make her feel like Daphne was a threat, because she wasn't. I'd made it perfectly clear to Daphne that I wasn't interested in her like that and she said that she never wanted to see me again. That was the end of it. If Daphne was going to do anything, it would be ignoring me the whole time. Things should run smoothly as long as America never found out about what'd happened.
Still, I had a bad feeling in my stomach- like this trip was going to trigger something terrible. I tried to push the feeling away but it festered in the back of my mind.
America and I got out of the car. She took my hand and looked at me curiously. "Why are you so nervous?" she whispered. "You said they were just allies and family friends, right?"
"I'm not nervous," I replied hurriedly. She shrugged and rolled her eyes at me, pulling me up the steps and to the door. The guards on duty bowed and opened the large doors.
Daphne and her family stood in the foyer, waiting to greet us. Daphne smiled at me warmly, her dark blue eyes meeting mine. I wasn't sure how to approach her. Was she still mad or not? That was the thing about Daphne. If she didn't want me to know what she was thinking, I'd never know.
America and I walked closer to them. "Maxon! It's good to see you again," the king said. "It's been far too long since the last time I've seen you."
I gave a polite bow to everyone before responding. "Indeed it has, sir."
"Yes! It really is odd to think about everything that has happened since then. You got married for God's sake! Speaking of which," he said, turning to America, "would you like to introduce us to this fine young lady?"
America blushed as I rested my hand on the small of her back. "America, this is the king of France. Sir, this is America."
She curtsied politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty." The king nodded approvingly.
"Likewise, my lady." He turned back to me. "You've picked a lovely girl, Maxon."
"Oh, I know. You wouldn't believe how much effort it took to get her to like me, though," I said while winking at America as she tried to suppress a smirk.
Daphne cleared her throat, stepping forward with her mother. I gulped and felt myself lean away from her a bit. "Maxon," she said. "Aren't you going to finish the introductions? Papa isn't the only one in the family, you know."
I coughed. Well, here goes nothing. "Ah, yes. America this is Daphne and the queen. Daphne, Your Highness, this is America."
"It's so nice to finally meet you, America!" Daphne exclaimed, moving to America and embracing her. America laughed and hugged her back. "I'm so happy for the both of you. Prince Maxon always used to tell me how he couldn't wait to find a wife and, well, here you are!"
America pulled away, casting me a questioning look. "Maxon used to talk to you about this? I apologize, it's just that I was under the impression he never really had anyone to confide in and he never mentioned you."
Daphne waved it off. "Oh no, it's fine. Considering he was with a beautiful girl like you, I'm not surprised he didn't bring up another woman. But, yes. We were close friends."
America blushed. "Thank you. You're so sweet."
There was a lump in my throat as I watched them talk. I didn't know what was going on. I'd thought Daphne would be cold and distant, but she was actually being nice. Nice! I was almost too stunned to speak. All I knew was that I needed to figure out how to get through the time we were spending here without letting America find out what'd happened. To do that, I had to get away from Daphne. At least, until it was time for dinner.
I was about to make an excuse for us to leave when the queen did it for me. "You two must be tired from your long drive. Why don't you go up to your room an rest for a bit? I'll have a maid come and fetch you when it is time for dinner."
She gestured to the butlers who had our luggage and they began towards our room. I nodded politely, taking America by the hand and following the men. As we were leaving, I could've sworn that I saw Daphne glare at me as we passed.
When we reached the room, we thanked the two men and they left us alone. America ambled around the room, running her fingers over the furniture. There wasn't much in the room. It was just a bed, a desk, some drawers, and two night-side tables. Really, that was all you needed for a guest room.
I thought about Daphne's words from before the Selection as I sat down on the bed. She had said that with my parents' personalities, they'd unknowingly trained me to be incapable of love and that was why I didn't return her feelings. That thought had scared me, that I would never know what love was. Obviously, that wasn't the case.
I felt like the weight of not telling America about what Daphne had said was crushing me. All I had to do to get rid of it was tell the truth, but for some reason, I just couldn't do it. I don't know why. Maybe it was because I didn't want to hurt her. Or, I didn't want her to get in a fight with Daphne, or me for that matter. Maybe I thought that it was all just in the past and the whole thing wasn't worth talking about. It doesn't matter why, I just knew I didn't have it in me to confess.
America interrupted my train of thought by saying, "Daphne's really nice. She seems very sweet."
"I guess so," I sighed in an attempt to sound nonchalant.
America turned to me, crinkling her nose. "Why have you been acting so weird today?" She came over, sitting next to me. She put her hand to my forehead, like she was checking to see if I had a fever. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine." America raised her eyebrows at me. I let out a small chuckle. "Seriously, I'm okay America. You don't have to worry about me."
She ran her hand through my hair, smiling gently. I leaned into her slender fingers. "You know I can't help it."
America kissed my forehead before standing up and walking over to our bags. "If you're feeling okay, then I guess you can help me pick out something to wear then, right?" she teased. "I want to impress them."
I groaned exaggeratedly and got to my feet. "If I must."
She laughed and pulled me by the arm to the suitcase. Let's just say it took more than a few minutes to find something for her to wear.
.
.
.
A few hours later, America and I walked with linked arms to the dining room. I had dismissed the maid who'd come to get us. I knew my way around from all of the time I'd spent here during previous summers. We approached the doors and the French guards nodded, opening the doors.
The royal family was seated, waiting for us to join them. There were two empty seats on the same side of the table as Daphne. America curtsied before taking the far seat, leaving me next to Daphne. I didn't meet her eyes as I sat down, subtly scooting my chair away a bit. Unfortunately, Daphne decided that she would compensate for the new distance by also moving her chair. I couldn't really move away any more or I'd be sitting in America's lap and that would be awfully awkward.
Things ran smoothly until about halfway through dinner. That was when I started noticing things. They were just little things that Daphne did, just small enough that you noticed but you wouldn't know why you noticed. There was just something off about her whole demeanor. If I said something even remotely humorous, she would laugh and touch my arm. She was constantly fixing her hair or licking her lips, like she wanted to draw attention to herself. Daphne smiled at me so much there was no way her face wasn't aching. She was acting like a bubbly little schoolgirl who was talking to her first crush.
That was when it clicked. Daphne was trying to make it obvious that she was interested in me, or, at least, wanted everyone to think that she was. Though I wasn't sure if she wanted everyone to think it or just America. She'd definitely gained her desired reaction from America, who sat there with her mouth in a firm line. She didn't look angry, not yet. America was assessing the situation in her head. I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she stared at Daphne.
I felt a hand grab my leg under the table. It wasn't America's. Daphne continued speaking, telling the story about how I'd challenged her in tree-climbing which had resulted in her receiving the scar on her wrist. She acted as if nothing had happened, like her hand wasn't inappropriately resting on a married man's leg.
A sick feeling erupted in my stomach as I took her hand in mine and tried to remove it from my leg. Daphne released my leg immediately, but then took an even firmer hold on my hand. I tried to shake her off under the table without arousing suspicion. She kept her grip tight, digging her nails into my skin. I knew the only way to make her let go was if I were to leave.
"You know what, darling?" I said to America when there was a break in the conversation. "You were right. I'm really not feeling all that well today. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to retire for the night."
I stood up, pulling my hand hastily out of Daphne's grasp. I wasn't quick enough though. America caught sight of our interlocked hands for hardly a second, but that was all it took. She kept her face a mask, but her eyes widened ever so slightly, revealing her shock. I cast her a "just let me explain" glance before hurrying out of the dining hall and back to our bedroom.
I shut the door behind me. I started pacing around the room, rubbing the back of my neck. Oh my God, what was I going to do? The whole "she came on to me" thing probably wouldn't work because when people say that, they're usually lying. Hopefully, America trusted me enough to let me explain and she would allow us to talk calmly. That was the only way that we would get past this, being calm and rational.
The door opened and I turned. America stood there, her hands clasped in front of her, back against the door. Her head was down and her hair hanging partially in her face as she looked at the floor.
"She likes you," America whispered in a barely audible voice.
"She does," I agreed, though it wasn't entirely true.
America looked up then, meeting my eyes. "Do you like her?"
I knew she would think something like that, but it still hurt. I guess I was hoping she'd seen through Daphne's act, that this was exactly what she'd wanted to happen.
"No, of course not."
She smiled grimly and without amusement. "I wouldn't blame you if you did. She's a very beautiful girl and-"
I felt a twinge of anger and I interrupted her. "America, what are you implying?"
"I'm not implying anything. All that I'm saying is that Daphne is a very attractive girl with all sorts of assets that could be useful to the country and that I'd understand why you might have the desire to pursue her."
The anger continued to build in my chest. Screw being calm. She didn't have the right to accuse me of anything. "Do you think I'm being unfaithful?" I asked, my voice rising.
"I didn't say that."
"You were thinking it. I'm not you, America. I don't cheat."
America gasped. I knew I'd crossed a line mentioning Leger, but at the moment I just didn't care. I've proven my loyalty to her so many times. When would she get that I wasn't going to just leave her in the dust for some other girl? Was it that difficult for her to wrap her head around that?
"You're a jerk," she hissed vehemently. Sometime during the argument, we'd moved closer. So close that our faces were mere inches apart, like that would make our words hit even harder. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this furious with her.
"If I'm such a jerk, why did you marry me?" I challenged, my volume climbing above a yell.
"I don't know!"
As soon as the words slipped off her tongue, she clamped a hand over her mouth, like that would take them back. It was too late, though. They'd come out and there was no way to get rid of them or the way they affected me. It was like having been slapped across the face, punched in the stomach, and stabbed through the heart all at once. She didn't know? She didn't know?
"No, Maxon. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
I shook my head at her, pinching the bridge of my nose. Do not cry, I ordered myself. Do not cry in front of her.
"I think you did, America," I replied steadily, bitterness lacing my voice. "You would've made an excellent Two because that was quite an act you had going there. You played me. You played me like a fool. All you wanted was the crown and the power, just like all of those other girls. You were a Five. This was probably the only way to get a ticket into a better life. I'm impressed that you kept it up this long. Once we got married, what was stopping your true colors from coming through?"
She opened her mouth to speak, but I rose a hand to silence her. "I'm not finished," I growled.
"I do want to thank you, though. Thank you, America, for letting me believe for a moment that you loved me, that you cared. It really did mean the world to me. Now that I know you were faking it, I hate myself even more. Do you want to know why?"
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. This was the first time I had no desire to wipe them away, to comfort and console her.
"No? I'll tell you why anyway. It's because deep in this damn heart of mine, I am still in love with you and that will kill me for the rest of my life, no matter how long or how short it is."
I sighed, closing my eyes. That was all I had to say. Nothing America said now mattered. This was it. I figured out the truth and she couldn't say a single word to change my mind.
That didn't mean she didn't try.
"That's not true, Maxon. I love you. I swear to God that I do. Please, just listen. I'm so sorry." She grabbed my hand and tried to pull me closer, but I wrenched myself from her grip.
"I don't need to listen, America. I've heard enough."
I turned away from her so that I was facing the bed. A single, rebel tear managed to escape. Just go, I pleaded silently in my head. Please, just stop making this hurt more.
"Get out," I said quietly.
"What? No. I'm not leaving you." Don't say that.
"Get out."
"I'm sorry. Please, I love you." Stop it.
"Get out, America!"
I heard her let out a small sob that nearly broke me. Then, I heard slow footsteps and the sound of the door opening. I listened, waiting to hear the door click shut. It stayed silent for a while as she hesitated.
A moment later, there was a soft click.
That was it. That was when I snapped.
I fell to the ground, my legs too weak to even hold me up. It felt like every inch of me was shattering, breaking and splitting in the worst ways. With the last of my strength, I took my left hand and removed the silver band. I stared at it. I remembered the vows, the promises, we'd made. I remembered all of the adoring kisses, all of the tender embraces. I remembered all of the playful teasing, all of the romantic gestures. How could all of that just disappear before my eyes?
After that, came the numbness, the time where I just didn't think. There were two words, though, that crossed my mind before everything just stopped for a while.
Come back.