999 Pieces

Chapter Seven: Maxon

"W-What?" I stammer standing from the couch as I realize what that means.

"I know this may be a shock, but please, hear me out Maxon," Gavril pleads.

I nod and slowly sit down, my mind racing. "Explain."

"I'm a big supporter of the Northern Rebels. I'm sure you know by now that we are in full support of the monarchy, especially with you as its head."

I nod. This wasn't new to me. August and Georgia had already told America and I this.

"My role was to give information to August and Georgia, whom you have already met," Gavril continues. "It ranged from the layout of the palace to information of what you and your Father were up to. I assure you, Maxon, that we don't have any other intentions other than to dissolve the castes and get more representation of the people. You can trust us."

"I know I can," I answer, looking back at him. "After all, I share the same wishes."

Gavril smiles. "And that's why we want you on the throne. You're a fair man, Maxon. You are what Illea needs right now."

I lower my eyes. "It's just all so much... I thought for sure that when I ascended the throne that I would at least have someone by my side." Tears form in my eyes again and I let out a shaky breath. "Kriss is a wonderful woman, truly, but America is my love. And now she's gone... I-I don't know if I can be the King that Illea needs. I feel so lost."

I let out a sob, no longer able to keep my tears in. Gavril rubs my shoulder as I cry, not saying anything. When my tears slow, he finally speaks.

"Maxon, I know this is hard for you. I wouldn't wish your situation on my worst enemy," Gavril says softly. "I know you love America deeply, even more than how much your Mother loved your Father, which is saying something. To get out of this you need to fight, just like you told all of Illea minutes ago."

I nod, running a hand through my hair. "D-do you have any advice for what I should do?"

"Surround yourself with people you love and trust. I know you may feel that the number is suddenly much smaller now with America and your Mother gone, but maybe you just need to look wider. Don't shut yourself in and talk to who you trust, just how you've done with me."

I nod again, giving him a weak smile. "Thank you."

Gavril smiles. "Fight, Maxon. I know you can do it. Make America and your Mother proud."

-o-

My parents' funeral is a blur of people telling me how sorry they are. Pity. It's all I can see, and I need to get away from all of it. At the reception I somehow manage to escape to the garden next to the church. I find a bench in a quiet corner and slowly sit down.

Looking down at my hands, I take some deep breaths, listening to the wind blow. I feel my hair getting messed up, but I honestly couldn't have cared less. I was finally alone from all the probing.

I nearly groan when I hear the sound of shoes. Spoke too soon, Maxon, I think, briefly looking up at my visitor.

Kriss.

I feel myself stiffen as she cautiously approaches me. I don't say anything, looking back down at my hands as Kriss quietly sits down next to me.

"You shouldn't be out here alone, Maxon. It isn't safe," Kriss says finally.

"There are three guards by the door and one a few feet away," I respond without missing a beat.

In my peripheral vision I see Kriss nod. We silently remain sitting there, embracing the light breeze. Looking around the garden, my mind begins to wander again. When was the last time America and I were in the garden together? It feels so long ago...

I close my eyes and clench my fists, willing myself to not cry. I really had done enough of it in the past few days.

"Talk to me about her. I know it's eating you away," Kriss says softly.

"Well that wouldn't be fair to you, would it?" I mumble. "Talking about the woman I'm in love with the woman I was supposed to marry for a period of time?"

Kriss doesn't reply as I mentally slap myself. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way," I say, finally looking at Kriss.

"It's understandable, Maxon. I've seen how miserable you are, no matter how much you try to hide it."

"It doesn't give me the right to say hurtful things, Kriss," I answer, sighing.

"If you want to talk, let me know. I'll be there," she says, standing.

As she walks away, Gavril's words come back to me. "Kriss! Wait!" I call, standing.

She stops and turns back towards me.

"Please... I-I want to talk."

She nods and gives me a small smile, walking back towards me. We both sit down on the bench again, and I let out a sigh. "How are you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that, Maxon?" Kriss replies.

"The thousands of people attending the funeral have done that enough," I answer, glancing at the church for a moment.

"Has it gotten tiring?"

I let a short laugh. "I appreciate that they care for me, or at least pretend to, but it gets annoying after awhile. Hence, the reason I escaped out here."

Kriss smiles. "I can see that. And to answer your question, I'm alright, considering all things."

"Good. I don't know what I would have done if you said you were doing terribly."

She laughs, her hand absentmindedly touching her necklace. My eyes land on it and I freeze.

"Maxon? Are you alright?" Kriss asks, concerned. She lets go of the necklace, touching my arm.

"You're one of them," I whisper, looking up from her necklace. "You're a Northern Rebel."

Kriss turns pale. "Don't be mad, Maxon. I swear I-"

"Was this all an act?" I demand, standing abruptly. "Was this all just to get one of your own on the throne? Do you even love me as you claimed?"

"Maxon, please sit back down and hear me out," Kriss begs. "As I told America-"

"America knew?" I ask, spinning around to look at her.

"She found out when she returned a few days ago," Kriss says quietly.

"How?"

Kriss purses her lips. "Also through my necklace."

"How did she know about the sign? Gavril told me that it's a symbol that you use to recognize each other, so I imagine it's a closely guarded secret..." I trial off, not wanting to voice my thoughts.

"I know what you're thinking Maxon, but it isn't true. America wasn't a Northern Rebel, trust me, I would have known if she was," she reassures. "Besides, she would have found out sooner that I am a rebel if she was one herself."

"But how..."

"I don't know, Maxon. I really don't. Maybe August or Georgia knows. I'm sure you can ask them later."

I stare at her considering her words. The situation between Aspen and America comes back to me, reminding me what happened the last time I didn't hear someone out. Finally, I let out a sigh and nod. "Okay, tell me your story."