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A/N: Heyy guys we are Authorsmakinghistory we want to keep this short sooo we will post on Thursdays or Fridays it will depend ik some of you will be a little pissed at first but maxerica will happen if you have any suggestions feel free to message have fun reading! btw if u havent read the selection series be sure to read that first

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America's POV:

"I...I...choose...Kriss" Those words resembled the sound of my heart shattering into a thousand pieces, broken beyond repair. It was the last thing I heard before tears welled up in my eyes, as I started sprinting towards the door. My heart ached as if the most important part of me was ripped away, oh who am I kidding, my very soul was ripped apart viciously, all at hearing those three dreadful words.

How was I supposed to live like this? I shook my head trying to keep the tears at bay. The bright rays of the sun obstructed my view as I headed towards the mesmerizing gardens. Sitting down on a bench, the realization that it was our bench hit me like a freight train. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore and broke down all over again not giving a care in the world if anyone was watching. Drops slipped down my damp, pale and now hollow cheeks as my face resembled a gushing waterfall, except this time, it was running mercilessly and at a deadly rate with its taste as salty as possible. This couldn't be happening, I was sure of it, this was all some sort of inhumane and utterly bizarre joke.

I heard the crunching of leaves as footsteps followed. My bitterness and heartache was clearly written on my face, showcased through every emotion that passed in my eyes and every tear that ran down my wet cheeks at an unsteady and otherworldly rate. I thought it was a guard, so out of embarrassment, I started wiping my tears on the tulle of my dress, hoping that none of my 'makeup' would be smudged on it. I decided that I should leave before that person starts irritating me with all the reasons why a lady should not be out at an hour like this, bawling her eyes out. Why should I care anyway though, it's not like anyone would look for me. But before I could get up, a firm hand clasped my shoulder.

Panic coursed through my veins at the treacherous thought of it being a rebel but I turned around, only to face Prince Nicholas instead. I didn't need more people to pity me, I mused. What was he doing here though? The similarities between Nicoletta and Nicholas was undoubtedly strikingly familiar. I think they are twins, but she didn't mention much about him other than the fact that she wanted to be queen but 'someone' happened to steal her chance. The rivalry between them was evident and I am pretty sure some gossip columns caught on as well. All I knew was that they rarely talked to each other.

"Earth to America," Nicholas repeated twice, waving his hand in front of my face, trying to catch my constantly wavering attention. Simultaneously a slight giggle was heard, which to my surprise lodged out of my mouth. I looked at him trying to catch on with what he was saying, his face highlighting signs of concern. Concerns for ... me!? Why ever would he waste his time pitying a woman like me, I thought sorrowfully.

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