Chapter Thirteen: Maxon

365 11 6
                                    

I grit my teeth, looking over to Stavros. "Do you mind explaining?"

Stavros nods. "The Italians have agreed to give some funds, although they did mention that it may be less than last time when Lady America made the arrangements. In return, they wish to make an alliance with Illea."

There is a beat of silence as everyone's eyes widen.

"B-But why?" Mr. Forteir asks, voicing everyone's thoughts. "The Italians have yet to be this agreeable to the possibility of an alliance. What changed?"

"Lady America," I respond. "As some of you may know, the Italians wrote a letter to my Father a few weeks ago, saying that they would like for him and his family to visit them, as well as Lady America. They stated that they, and I quote, 'can't imagine anyone following in the queen's footsteps quite like her'."

"But that's no longer possible, Your Majesty," Mr. Voss says, stating the obvious. "Why are they still reaching out?"

"The Italians know that if the Southern Rebels take over Illea, they will only gain an enemy," I state simply. "Plus, they want to align themselves with a country that is giving their people more freedom." I give Mr. Voss a look.

"Did they say anything else?" someone else asks.

Stavros hesitates. "The King did mention that some of his advisors may be reluctant to form an alliance with a country that is unstable."

All eyes shift to me, and I cross my arms in front of my chest. "I am not getting married right now."

"Your Majesty," Mr. Forteir pleads. "You don't have an heir. If you happen to die, who will succeed the throne?"

"August Illea can, for all I care! I'm not dead yet, am I?" I demand, looking at each advisor in the eye.

"Your Majesty-"

"I will not be forced into a marriage right now!" I repeat, standing from my chair. "My Father and Mother just died for goodness sake! Not to mention the woman that I'm in love with, who was supposed to by my fiance!"

The room is silent.

"I need time," I hiss, glaring at the advisors. "So if you think you will accomplish anything by pushing me, you are wrong! You are only making it worse!" With that, I turn on my heel and leave, slamming the door behind me.

Clenching my fists, I quickly make my way to the stairs and run down to the second floor. I need to get away, and there is only one place where I know I'll be left alone. This time, when I reach America's door, I don't hesitate to open it. I shut the door behind me and fall onto her bed, breathing heavily.

As I look around the room, tears appear in my eyes again. I let out a sob as my head falls down into my hands. "What do I do, America?" I ask between sobs. "What the hell should I do? I need you... I-I can't do this without you."

I cry my heart out to the point that I struggle to breathe through my sobs. I take deep breaths trying to calm myself down, and slowly I start to get air again. Exhausted, I put my head on America's pillow and breathe in the faint scent. Before I know it, my eyes become heavy and I feel myself fall asleep.

-o-

When I open my eyes, I'm still in America's room, but it's noticeably darker. I groggily look at the clock and sigh. I missed dinner again.

But why does it matter? I think. It's not like anyone is waiting for me. If I really get hungry, I can just ring a meal up to my room.

At the thought of food, my stomach lets out a growl and I sigh. It looks like I'll be doing just that.

I slowly sit up from America's bed and run a hand through my hair. Standing, I attempt to smooth the sheets again to no avail. I walk over to the mirror and take in my appearance. My eyes are no longer red from crying, but you can tell that I was doing just that.

I take one last look around the room, about to leave when I remember something. I quickly walk over to the table and carefully pick up the letters that I'd abandoned there earlier. I gingerly place them inside my suit pocket before leaving the room.

Thankfully, I don't run into anyone as I make my way to the third floor back to my room. I only nod to the guards posted outside of my room, before disappearing into my room. I quickly ring for my butler and shrug off my suit, carefully taking out the letters. Laying the suit on a chair, I walk over to my nightstand, tucking the letters into the top drawer where they would be safe.

As I close the drawer, my door opens and my butler walks in, giving me a bow. "Your Majesty. How may I help you?"

"I missed dinner. Could you get something for me from the kitchen please?"

My butler nods. "Anything in particular that you want, Your Majesty?"

I wave my hand. "I don't really care. Whatever is available."

"Of course, Your Majesty. It will be up right away."

I give him a small smile. "Thank you."

The butler bows and exits my room, closing the door behind him. My eyes shift from the door to my collage of photos on the wall next to it. I walk towards it and move to study the pictures, softy smiling as I remember certain events. Eventually, my eyes can't ignore her and I find myself just staring at America's application picture.

Taking a step closer, I brush my hand on the picture, sadness filling me again. As my hand falls away, my eyes spot a picture right next to America's. I freeze, my eyes widening.

I look up as the door opens, my butler carrying a tray in for me. "Are you alright, Your Majesty? You look troubled," he says worriedly as he sets the tray down on the table by the fireplace.

I nod slowly, my mind racing as I turn back to the photograph. "I'm fine. Can you send Stavros up? I have something urgent to discuss with him."

He bows. "Right away, Your Majesty."

Sorry I haven't been updating... This kind of slipped my mind. Anyone have an idea on what made Maxon call Stavros? 🙃

-theselectionseriesfan

999 PiecesOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora