"Please do not be a 9. Please do not be a 9," I pleaded, shaking the dice in my hands and eyeing the hotel on the property.
"Please be a 9! Please be a 9!" May chanted, watching me intently.
"Please don't be a 9. I swear, do not be a 9," Maxon said.
"Max!" May yelled. "Whose side are you on?"
"America is scary when she's angry," Maxon shrugged, unapologetic.
"Does she get angry when she loses?" May taunted.
"I don't know. She never loses," Maxon said.
"And I'm not gonna start now," I said, flicking my wrist and sending the dice rolling across the board. I held my breath as the dice rolled and tipped before finally settling on 8.
"Yes!" I screamed, grabbing Maxon's face and kissing him. There was a loud ew from Gerad. I pulled away smiling wide. "I love monopoly!"
"Kenna and I both still have more money then you," He reminded me.
"Not for long! I'm playing to win!" I yelled and moved my piece around the board. I smiled at the hotel on the square in front of me. Not today, May, not today.
"I needed that money to get ahead," May pouted.
"Don't worry, May. We can get Maxon to land on that square," I assured her.
"Ames!" He yelled.
"I'm sorry, but this game is everyone for themselves," I grinned. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
He shook his head, grabbing the dice and throwing them back down. He rolled an eleven and moved accordingly.
"Your the richest, so your the enemy," I shrugged.
"He won't be for long," Kenna quipped. "That's my space, pay up Max."
"Doesn't even make a dent, Ken," Maxon taunted, handing her a few bills.
"Slowly closing the distance," She replied, counting the bills and handing them to James, who sorted them into piles next to him.
"Be nice kids," Magda warned, taking her turn. "I think that's your property, America. How much do I owe you?"
"Your not supposed to remind her, Maggie. If she would have forgotten, you wouldn't have had to pay her," Shalom told Magda.
"But that's dishonest. And she's the princess, I don't think were supposed to lie to her," Magda said.
"It's a capital offense," I nodded solemnly. We locked eyes and I broke out smiling.
She laughed. "How much?"
"100."
Magda frowned down at her funds. "That'll bankrupt us, Shalom."
Maxon turned to Kenna and they high-fived.
"Well maybe I could reduce the price because you were honest—."
"No America! That's how you win. They have to go bankrupt," Maxon explained.
"But—."
"Thank you America, but it's fine," Magda cut in. "You can stop being a princess for a few minutes, it's just monopoly. Shalom and I are used to to loosing anyways. Kenna and Maxon are relentless."
"I win too sometimes!" May yelled.
"Of course honey," Magda said, patting Mays arm reassuringly.
Shalom helped Magda get to her feet and they sat on the edge of my bed to watch.
"I'm bored. Can we turn on a movie?" Gerad asked, throwing his money and properties next to him.
May and Kenna immediately went after all his assets like hungry animals and I laughed.
"Sure, Gerad. The remotes on the side table. You can watch whatever you want," I told him.
"Yay!" He yelled and took a running start to jump in the center of my bed.
A soft knock sounded at the door. Gerad was jumping up off the bed to get it before I could say a thing.
"Hello!" He greeted the person.
"Who is it, Gerad?" I asked, standing up and smoothing out my dress so I could get the door.
"A maid," He chirped.
He slid away from the door and I pulled the door open wide so I could see who it was.
"Oh hey Veda, what's up?"
"Good morning, Princess America. I have a message from your father."
"What is it?" I asked distractedly, glancing back at Maxon to make sure he wasn't stealing my money. I wouldn't put it past him at the moment.
"Your father has requested that you and Sir Maxon meet him downstairs in the parlor by the women's room," She said. "Silvia and your parents are waiting for you there."
"Oh um..." I peeked behind me. "I'm sort of in the middle of something."
Her mouth dropped open and she shut it quickly. "Um...I—Uh. The King said it was urgent, your majesty."
What did I just say? Did I just say I was in the middle of something? Literally, I have no idea who I am.
"Right, of course. Thank you, Veda, I'll—. I'll be right there," I mumbled, closing the door. I shook my head, muttering to myself. "In the middle of something? I don't think I've ever said that in my life!"
"America?" Maxon asked, rolling the dice. "You alright?"
"We gotta go, Maxon," I sighed, walking over to my vanity and fixing my hair. "Miss Silvia and my father want to meet with us."
"About what?" He asked.
"I'm not sure," I said, grabbing a lipstick and applying it quickly. "I'm so sorry about the board game everybody."
"I'm not!" Kenna yelled, holding up her stack of cash. "I'm in the lead right now which means I win!"
"That's not fair!" Maxon accused. "The games being cut short! We need a rematch, or we will continue playing later but—."
"Max, let it go," May sighed. "She won. She always wins."
"I am the oldest, hear me roar!" Kenna yelled, tossing her money.
"Ken—," James tried to cut in.
"Clean that up Kenna Renee Singer!" Magda chastised.
"Orders, Ma! Kenna Orders!" Kenna groaned.
"Not when you're acting like that," Magda quipped. "Clean up the money you threw around."
May laughed at her and I smiled, running to grab a pair of heels.
"Somebody help the very pregnant women up," Kenna called out.
"So people just summon one another here?" I heard May whisper to Kenna.
"It's the palace, May. Of course they summon each other."
"M' lady," Maxon said, holding out his arm.
I took it and waved to the singers. "Goodbye everyone. Monopoly was great!"
"Bye America," They chorused.
I closed the door behind me and smiled.
"I love your family," I sighed.
"They love you too," He said. "They talk about you all the time."
"My mom has been talking about you all the time since you had tea with her the other day. She loves you!"
"I think it's sufficient to say that we are both in with the in laws," Maxon said, pulling me close and kissing my cheek.
I high-fived him, clasping our hands and leaning my head on his shoulder.
"What's this?" Maxon asked, gesturing to the painting we were passing of my mother and father.
I examined it, remembering the story that went along with it. "That is a painting recreation of the first photo my mom and dad took together."
"Why do I recognize that dress...?" Maxon trailed off, glancing back at the painting.
I rolled my eyes. "That's the same dress I wore for our engagement pictures. The selected used to wear that exact dress when they took their official photos with the Prince. Cream, with a slit on the left thigh and a modest v-neck. It's been that same dress for generations."
"If you don't mind me asking, why didn't you have a Selection?"
"For the exact same reason that I've been fighting marrying you for so long," I admitted. "It would be just another part of my life that everyone else would be controlling."
"But wouldn't you have a choice in who you married then? I thought that's what you wanted."
"The Selection would hardly be my choice. I'd be surprised if I even got to choose who won it. The truth about the Selection, is that's it's all fake. Anyone can apply but the people who make it to the palace are each hand selected. Either they have connections that would benefit the palace, or they are breathtakingly beautiful, or they are of a lower caste to make it seem like it's all random. But none of it is random. Everything is carefully orchestrated, from the people who are picked to when each girl leaves to the person who wins. And I could only imagine how much worse it would have been with my father controlling it all."
"That is...sick. Is that how it was for your mother and father?"
"Undoubtedly. I do think my father loves my mother. He's despicable but he takes care of her. But none of that would have mattered if she didn't have other valuable things going for her. And I despise that about the Selection."
His eyes were wide as he took all this information in. I'm sure that from any citizens point of view the Selection may have seemed romantic, but it was anything but if you knew the truth.
"So how'd you get out of it then? Isn't the Selection a tradition that's been carried down for generations since the beginning of Illea? I remember reading that King Gregory Illea's son was the first." I had to bite my tongue to keep from ranting. You don't even want to get me started on Gregory Illea and his stupid diaries. "I know your crafty, but how'd you manage that one?"
I peeked around to make sure no one was listening to what we were saying. Maxon knew more about me and my family then I suspect anyone, even my dad's closest advisors, knew. I trusted Maxon with anything. I trusted Maxon more than I think I've trusted anyone, but I wasn't going to dwell on how much that scared me because then I'd go spiraling to a place I try to avoid going. But I didn't trust everyone in the palace and we had to be careful with who was listening.
"Last year, on my 17th birthday, my father brought up the idea of us beginning to prepare for a Selection. The country had been asking about if I would have one and my father was all too happy to provide the people with my misery. And I outright refused."
"It was that easy?"
"Oh god no. That began a month long process of my parents trying to get me to plan different things in regards to the selection. The Selection had always been women, so the guest rooms needed to be more masculine and they wanted me to pick between green and blue drapes. They wanted a feast for the first night and I needed to choose the meal. But I refused to do anything. They couldn't get a peep out of me. My father punished me for it and ultimately they just started making the decisions without my input."
His thumb rubbed across my palm, soothing me.
"So I went to my father and I made a speech that I still remember every word of till this day. I think it's the only time it ever worked. I told him that no matter what he did, I wouldn't talk to a single suitor in this palace. I wouldn't go on the report and talk to Gavril Fadaye. No dates. No kisses. No nothing. I was not going to put on a show. He could kick and scream and beat me until I was bleeding on the floor, hanging on to my life, but I was not going to participate in the Selection."
I took a deep breath, thinking about how scared I had been when I confronted him. He had been so angry, I honestly think that if he got the cane out he never would have stopped.
"And it worked. He had no choice and for once I got my way."
Maxon lifted our conjoined hands, waving them in celebration. "Well cheers to that!"
"...And now I'm in an arranged marriage so the tables really have turned," I sighed. "But I'm happier now, thanks to you. Happier then I've ever been."
"I'm glad," He murmured, leaning down to kiss me quickly.
"We're here," I mumbled against his lips.
"Do we have to go in?" He asked. "Silvia and your father both scare me."
"We have to," I said, pulling away and reaching for the door handle with the hand that wasn't holding his. I pushed the door open and was faced with a parlor that probably hadn't been used in years, but looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Every surface was covered in papers and books and magazines, and there was so much clutter that I didn't even have enough time to dwell on what any of it was.
"Mom? Father...." I trailed off looking at where my parents sat on a love seat. Silvia was filing through some of the clutter on the coffee table. "Miss Silvia? What is going on in here? It looks like someone converted the parlor into a library."
"No jokes right now, America," My father reprimanded.
My brow creased. "My apologies...I didn't realize this was serious. I assumed it was just something about the arranged marriage."
"It is," Silvia confirmed.
I glanced back at Maxon who looked just about as confused as I did.
"Amy, Maxon, why don't you two sit down?" My mother said, watching me wearily.
My mother has always been a dead giveaway and that's when I knew I wasn't going to like this at all. Maxon squeezed my hand, immediately sensing that my mind was already beginning its spiral. His hand in mine grounded me though, and I just calmly led us to to the loveseat opposite of Mother and Father's.
"What is going on?" I asked, taking Maxon and I's conjoined hands and folding them officially in my lap.
"The whole country is upset," My father grumbled. "The rebel attacks have only been increasing in number, and unrest amongst the castes is at the highest it's been in a 100 years." I looked at my father and over to Maxon. It was shocking that he would say any of this in front of Maxon. Maxon would be dealing with this in a matter of years, but Father never liked to admit to anyone that his country wasn't perfect. "If we don't do something quick, it will only be a matter of time before everything begins to crumble."
"Okay..." I murmured, trying to think of how we would approach this. "Isn't this something that we should be addressing with the advisers?"
"We've already talked with them," He said as if I should have known. Fantastic. Another meeting that I wasn't present for. "The people are unhappy. And what we need is something to cheer everyone up."
I narrowed my eyes, biting my tongue to resist telling him everything that was wrong with that statement.
"And what do you have in mind?" I asked.
"In the past, what has always worked best is a selection. But obviously that is not an option. So we're doing the closest thing that we can. We're shortening your engagement as much as we can. We want the two of you married as quickly as possible."
My jaw dropped open and that's when I realized what I was surrounded by. The room was a mess with bridal magazines. And books with pretty destination landscapes and photographs of wedding dresses.
Oh my god, I think I'm going to be sick.
Why can't I get a moment of peace around here? I am finally just beginning to come to terms with everything. I'm finally beginning to let Maxon and his family in. I'm actually in a good place in my relationship and I really like him. Nothing can ever be still though. As soon as my life begins to look like it's getting better, it all comes crashing down. My father can never just let me be. I'm hardly even eighteen and now were talking about marriage.
It was going to be a long engagement. I was going to have time to be with Maxon and get to have a normal relationship with him before we were to marry. I was looking forward to getting to know his quirks and flaws. The things that made him tick and the things that made him laugh. What he liked about me and what I liked about him. It was a long engagement when it was convenient to my father for us to get to know one another, and now it'a going to be cut short to suit his needs.
This is my life we're playing with! How many more times am I going to be pulled in different directions? How much more of this do I have to take before I can make my own decisions? Will I wake up tomorrow and have the wedding postponed again? Will I wake up tomorrow and there will be no wedding at all?
This is my life and I don't even get a say in what's happening in it.
It's not that there is a difference between marrying Maxon in 3 or 4 years and marrying him tomorrow. At the end of the day, we will be married. I just hoped that Maxon and I would almost get to have a real relationship, instead of something that has been fake since the beginning. I don't even know why I pretend like this could have ever actually ended any differently.
It's just another thing that is out of my control. I want to choose when and where and who I fall in love with.
And damnit, I want that person to be Maxon.
"I...um," I mumbled. "Okay. Well I..."
"Would you mind if I speak with America alone?" My mom spoke.
"Amberley we are on a tight schedule—."
"What I meant to say is that I am going to talk to my daughter," Mom interrupted sharply. "This is marriage, Clarkson. It is the rest of her life. And I am going to take a moment with her to talk about it."
His jaw audibly snapped closed. "Well uh...ahem. Of course, my dear."
Father stood up, brushing himself off and clearing his throat bashfully. I almost smiled.
"We will wait in the hall," He muttered and crossed to the door.
Maxon's hand was still in mine and he squeezed it, reminding me of his presence. He brought our hands to his lips, kissing them, and then let go to follow my father and Silvia to the door. He looked back at me and I could feel all that he was trying to convey to me, but I was too shocked to really comprehend. The door clicked shut behind them and it was just my mother and I.
It's always just been my mother and I.
"Amy," She whispered, sitting down on the same loveseat as me. She tucked her feet underneath her and reached for my hands. I let her take them. "Say something."
"I don't really know what to say. I'm trying to not freak out or scream and cry," I admitted. "It's not like I didn't know this was coming. I just assumed I had a few more years."
"Hey," She called, capturing my attention. "Scream and cry and throw things if you want. Do whatever you need. I know it doesn't seem like you have much of a choice, and I suppose you don't, but that doesn't mean you can't be upset about it."
"I'm pretty sure your the only one who feels that way. Father and Silvia would like it best if I just nodded my head and started picking out flowers."
"That not true," She murmured. "Your father...he, I...we haven't been the best parents lately. I haven't been the best mother lately and I'm so sorry Amy. I'm sorry that you got stuck in this situation and I'm sorry that everything is so crazy for you. I should have been there for you but I was worried that you blamed me. But that's no excuse..."
"I don't blame you, Mom." She looked up at me unbelieving. "Not at all. In all honesty, I think this whole experience has been something I needed to go through by myself."
"You've grown from this. With all that's happened, I wouldn't be surprised if you just gave up. I know I would have. I would have given up a long time ago, but you? You are so unbelievably strong. My little girl...You've grown up so fast and I didn't even realize it happened. You will make such an amazing queen. Much better then I am."
"The people love you, Mom."
"They do but I can see it in your eyes," She touched her hand to my face, rubbing her thumb across my cheek. "You have big plans and you will do great things. You'll do more for them." She looked away, lost in thought for a moment. I could imagine what she was thinking about. The things she should have done better, the things she did wrong. She shook her head, her eyes focusing on me. "But that's not what this is about. This is about you. And that handsome young man outside. And the rock on your finger."
I instinctively touched my engagement ring, big and flashy and most definitely not my style. My father had picked it out I'm sure, and an advisor had been the one to give it to me before we announced the engagement. There was no proposal. There will never be a proposal.
I curled my feet under myself too, mirroring her. "I'm afraid. To be a queen, but I've been preparing for that my whole life. More so then that, I'm afraid to be a wife. I'm still so young Mom, hardly even a legal adult, and yet everyday I think about getting married and having kids and carrying on the stupid Illean bloodline. How do I balance ruling a country and caring for a husband and then kids, oh god kids, before I'm even in my twenties? I don't know what to do. Maxon will just end up hating me because I don't know how to do any of this."
"You just have to take it all one day at a time. You are not getting married tomorrow. You don't have to think about kids for a very long time. Just get through today. Then tomorrow. Then the day after that. I know it's all terrifying but...your better. You look happier and you glow now. You never glowed before. So I don't know if your in love with Maxon, and I know even if you are that marriage is a big step above love. But I hope you keep glowing. And I hope your really really happy."
There was a few things that I'm sure of. I was never gonna "meet the family" because Maxon's family and mine were interconnected. There wasn't a first kiss because that had all been for show. I was never going to see where he grew up because who knows if he will ever go back there, and there was never going to be a proposal because we were already engaged. We were never going to have any of those moments and the thought did make me sad.
But did any of that matter?
I...I love Maxon Singer. I want to marry him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him.
Who cares about the rest of it?
"Thank you, mommy," I murmured, throwing my arms around her.
Her hand pulled me tighter to her and the other hand reached up to stroke my hair. She tucked me into her arms, resting her chin on my head and holding me.
"I am so proud of you, Amy. More then you will ever know. I love you to the moon and back."
"I love you more."
We pulled away, laughing weakly and dabbing at our eyes.
"That turned out more emotional then I meant for it too," My mom laughed. "And your Father has been standing in the hall with Maxon and Silvia this whole time."
I pushed off the couch and went to open the door, taking a deep breath. Silvia and my dad walked right past me, but Maxon peeked at me with concern. I grabbed his hand.
"So are we done here?" Dad asked, glancing at his watch. "I have work to do."
"Of course, your majesty. We will begin planning immediately," Silvia said, reaching for her clipboard.
"How okay are you with this?" I whispered to Maxon, leading him back to the loveseat.
"I'll meet you at your room tonight and we can freak out together," He replied, squeezing my hand. "Right now I believe we are picking out a venue."
"This is really scary," I mumbled.
"Absolutely terrifying," He agreed.
I smiled as Silvia started talking about flowers and guest lists and how the royal wedding was going to the biggest event of the decade. I was really scared to marry Maxon so soon. I'm terrified to pick out a wedding dress. I'm petrified to spend the rest of my life with this man who I've only known a short time, and yet I have very big, very real feelings for.
But he's scared too.
So at least we're in this together.