A Selection Ever After

Chapter 18

So I changed a few chapters, and they may be major or minor depending on what you think. However, this doesn't change the story line, so you don't have to read it again. I just re-read my work and it was a bit weak, so I tweaked it so the words weren't as redundant and fixed a few grammatical errors, and now Kriss isn't a huge baby in chapter 3 or 4! Anyway, thanks for sticking with my weird schedule.
I hear a lot of  footsteps and door shutting and a lot of chatter.
"I know right! They're so cute."
"Yeah America and Maxon are probably cuter than me and Maxon. Besides, my Callan is gold."
That's when I debate whether to cut my ears or not. I'll be like Vincent Van Gogh, I think to myself.
Doors shut. Footsteps slow. Chattering stops.
9:26.
I doubt that anyone is asleep. It's barely 9:30.
After what seems like ages, I want fresh air. Being cooped up reading in the same room is not a good idea unless I have fresh air. I open the door while my maids look at me crazily, but I ignore them. When I get outside I take a deep breath, getting as much air in my lungs as possible. I sit down at a nearby bench and I hear voices–a male and female–coming towards me. I hurry to a nearby bush and squat.
"–day. Are you okay?"
Asks the male voice.
"I'm fine. Just I really don't like dresses."
"Well get used to it. You're going to be living in royalty for the rest of your life."
Maxon and America. I should've known. They sit down on the bench I was at a couple of minutes ago.
"I love this ring. It's beautiful."
"Well a beautiful girl needs a beautiful wedding ring."
They share a small laugh. Then Maxon stops laughing. America is still softly chuckling, but it fades away.
"Are you okay?"
She asks. I look through the little pockets in the bushes to see Maxon shaking his head.
"Are you really fine with being with me? You'll never have privacy. You'll practically never be able to go outside. And you'll be running the country, and I have to set a bit of the burden on you."
"Maxon. I don't think you understand. We're married now. I know the responsibilities. I was a Five–"
He flinches.
"But I'm not stupid. Trust me when I say I love you."
Maxon looks relieved, at least from the side. I'm breathing very shallow now, and praying that they'll go away so I can run back to my bedroom without being noticed.
"America?"
"Yes?"
"You better call me 'Your Royal Husbandness.'" Maxon teases, cracking a small smile. America swats at him and sticks out her tongue. "I'm tired." America says, softly. Maxon gets up and scoops America up as if she weighed as much as a feather. Which she also looks like, with her wedding dress, a bit tattered at the ends from the dancing and walking. America yelps  but Maxon quickly silences it with a quick peck on her lips. He carries her into the palace all the while laughing.