The Promise: A Maxerica Fanfiction

The King

For four days I stayed cooped up in my room. Well, my old room.
I had thought to console myself with the pictures of the Selected all over my wall, but looking at my wall only made my pain worse.
Everywhere, she was looking at me. In one picture, she had a surprised expression on her face, her curls flying as she turned to see me. Another was a candid shot of her laughing, her smile lighting up her face.
I plucked them one by one off the wall.
The one of her and I in the garden, the one of her and Princess Nicoletta whispering conspiratorially, the one of her and the other Selected fawning over fashion designs, and so many more.
By the time I was done collecting the photos, less than a quarter remained.
It seemed America was everywhere, and yet she was nowhere.
***
I had a lovely few hours of quiet torment before a guard discovered me. I shooed him off, but I knew he would stay right outside my door. Every three or four hours a maid would scurry in and try to coax some food into me.
I refused most if not all of it.
I felt awful. When I wasn't sleeping, I was curled into a ball wondering how I could ever go on living without her.
Sometimes a messenger would come in, but I rarely listened to what they had to say, nor did I care. Murmuring the apologies, they would slip out and I resumed my sulking.
On the fifth day, I decided enough was enough.
My heart had died with America, but just as she had said, I still had a country to run.
People were relying on me
Their King.