by Kiera Cass
They were so lost in each other; they didn’t notice me walk away, heading off to find the one person I really wanted to see.
CHAPTER 32
LEAVING THE HOSPITAL WING, I got my first look at the palace. It was hard to process the destruction. So much broken glass strewn across the floor, glittering hopefully in the sunlight. Ruined paintings, parts of the wall blown out, and menacing red stains on the carpets reminded me of how close we’d all been to death.
I started up the stairs, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. As I passed from the second floor to the third, I noticed an earring on the floor. I couldn’t help but wonder if its owner was still alive.
I made my way to the landing and saw a number of guards as I walked toward Maxon’s room. I supposed it was unavoidable. If I had to, maybe I’d call out to him. Maybe he’d tell them to let me pass . . . just like the night we met.
The door to Maxon’s room was open, and people buzzed in and out, bringing in papers or taking away platters. Six guards lined the wall leading up to the door, and I braced myself for the brush-off. But as I got closer, one of the guards noticed me. He squinted, as if double-checking that I was who he thought I was. Beside him, another guard recognized me, and one by one they bowed, deeply and reverently.
One of the guards by the door extended an arm. “He’s been waiting for you, my lady.”
I tried to be someone deserving of the honor they were giving me. I stood taller as I walked, though my scratched arms and cut-off dress did nothing to help. “Thank you,” I said with a gentle nod.
A maid rushed past as I went in. Maxon was on his bed, the left side of his chest padded with gauze under his plain cotton shirt. His left arm was in a sling, and he used his right to hold up the paper some adviser was explaining to him.
He looked so normal there, dressed down, hair a mess. But at the same time, he looked like so much more than he had been before. Was he sitting a little taller? Had his face somehow become more serious?
He was so clearly the king.
“Your Majesty,” I breathed, falling into a low curtsy. Standing, I saw the quiet smile in his eyes.
“Set the papers here, Stavros. Would everyone please leave the room? I need to speak with the lady.”
Everyone circling around him bowed and headed toward the hall. Stavros quietly placed the papers on Maxon’s bedside table, and as he passed, he winked at me. I waited until the door closed before I moved.
I wanted to run to him, to fall into his embrace and stay there forever. But I moved slowly, worried that maybe he regretted his last words to me.
“I’m so sorry about your parents.”
“It doesn’t seem real yet,” he said, motioning that I should sit on the bed. “I keep thinking that Father is in his study, and Mom’s downstairs, and any minute one of them will come in here with something for me to do.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
He gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know you do.” He reached out and put his hand on mine. I took that as a good sign and held his hand back. “She tried to save him. A guard told me a rebel had my father in his sights, but she ran behind him. She went down first, but they got Father immediately after.”
He shook his head. “She was always selfless. To her very last breath.”
“You shouldn’t be so surprised. You’re a lot like her.”
He made a face. “I’ll never be quite as good as her. I’m going to miss her so much.”
I rubbed his hand. She wasn’t my mother, but I would miss her as well.
“At least you’re safe,” he said, not looking into my eyes. “At least there’s that.”
There was a long stretch of silence, and I didn’t know what to say. Should I bring up what he said? Should I ask about Kriss? Would he even want to think about any of this now?
“There’s something I want to show you,” he suddenly announced. “Mind you, it’s a bit rough, but I think you’ll still like it. Open the drawer here,” he instructed. “It should be on the top.”
I pulled out the drawer in his bedside table, noticing a pile of typed papers right away. I gave Maxon a questioning look, but he just nodded toward the writing.
I started reading the document, trying to process what it said. I got to the end of the first paragraph and then reread it, sure I was mistaken.
“Are you . . . you’re going to dissolve the castes?” I asked, looking up to Maxon.
“That’s the plan,” he answered, smiling. “I don’t want you to get too excited. This will take a long time to do, but I think it will work. You see,” he said, turning the pages of the vast file and pointing to a paragraph. “I want to start from the bottom. I’m planning on eliminating the Eight label first. There’s a lot of construction we need to do; and I feel like, with a little bit of work, the Eights could be absorbed into the Sevens. After that, it gets tricky. There’s got to be a way to get rid of the stigmas that come along with the numbers, but that’s my goal.”
I was awestruck. I’d only ever known a world in which I wore my caste like a piece of clothing. And here I was, holding something saying that those invisible lines we’d drawn between people could finally be erased.
Maxon’s hand touched mine. “I want you to know that this is all your doing. Since the day you called me into the hallway and told me about being hungry, I’ve been working on this. It was one of the reasons I got so upset after you did your presentation; I had a quieter way of reaching the exact same goal. But of all the things I wanted to do for my country, this would have never crossed my mind if I hadn’t known you.”
I took in a breath and gazed at the pages again. I thought over the years of my life, so short and fast. I’d never expected to do more than sing in the background of people’s house parties and maybe get married one day. I thought about what this would mean for the people of Illéa, and I was beside myself. I felt both humbled and proud.
“There’s something else,” Maxon said hesitantly as I continued to take in the words in front of me. Then suddenly, on top of the papers, Maxon slid over an open box with a ring resting in it, shining in the light cascading through his windows.
“I’ve been sleeping with that darn thing under my pillow,” he said, sounding playfully irritated. I looked up to him, not saying anything, as I was still too stunned to speak. I was sure he could read the questions in my eyes, but he had his own to address. “Do you like it?”
A web of thin gold vines crawled up, forming the circle of the ring, holding at the top two gems—one green, one purple—that kissed at the crown of it. I knew the purple one was my birthstone, so the green one must be his. There we were, two little spots of light growing together, inseparable.
I meant to speak and opened my mouth several times to try. All I could manage to do was smile, blink back my tears, and nod.
Maxon cleared his throat. “Twice now I’ve tried to do this on a grand scale and failed spectacularly. As it is, I can’t even get on one knee. I hope you won’t mind if I just speak to you plainly.”
I nodded. I still couldn’t find a word in my entire body.
He swallowed and shrugged his uninjured shoulder. “I love you,” he said simply. “I should have told you a long time ago. Maybe we could have avoided so many stupid mistakes if I had. Then again,” he added, beginning to smile, “sometimes I think it was all those obstacles that made me love you so deeply.”
Tears pooled in the corners of my eyes, balancing on my lashes.
“What I said was true. My heart is yours to break. As you already know, I’d rather die than see you in pain. In the moment I was hit, when I fell to the floor sure my life was ending, all I could think about was you.”
Maxon had to stop. He swallowed, and I could see he was as close to tears as I was. After a moment, he continued.
“In those seconds, I was mourning everything I’d lost. How I’d never get to see you walk down an aisle toward me, how I’d never get to see your face in our children, how I�
��d never get to see streaks of silver in your hair. But, at the same time, I couldn’t be bothered. If me dying meant you living”—he did his one-shoulder shrug again—“how could that be anything but good?”
At that, I lost my control, and the tears came in earnest. How had I ever thought that I knew what it meant to be loved before this very second? Nothing had come close to this feeling radiating in my heart, filling every inch of me with absolute warmth.
“America,” Maxon said sweetly, forcing me to wipe my eyes and face him. “I know you see a king here, but let me be clear; this isn’t a command. This is a request, a plea. I beg you; make me the happiest man alive. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
I couldn’t get out how much I wanted this. But where my voice failed, my body succeeded. I crawled into Maxon’s arms, holding on to him tightly, certain that nothing could ever pull us apart. When he kissed me, I felt my life settle into place. I had found everything I’d ever wanted—things I didn’t even know I was looking for—here in Maxon’s arms. And if I had him to guide me, to hold me, then I could take on the world.
It seemed too soon our kiss slowed, and Maxon pulled back to look into my eyes. I saw it in his face. I was home. And I finally found my voice.
“Yes.”
EPILOGUE
I TRY NOT TO SHAKE, but it does no good. Any girl would do the same. The day is big, the dress is heavy, and the eyes watching are uncountable. Brave as I ought to be, I tremble.
I know that once the doors open, I will see Maxon waiting for me, so while all the last-second details are settled around me, I hold on to that promise and try to relax.
“Oh! This is our cue,” Mom says, noting the change in the music. Silvia waves my family over. James and Kenna are ready to go. Gerad is running around, already wrinkling his suit, and May keeps trying desperately to get him to stand in one place for two seconds back-to-back. Even if he is a bit rumpled, they all look surprisingly regal today.
As happy as I am that everyone who loves me is with me, I can’t help but feel an ache that Dad isn’t here. I feel him, though, whispering how much he loves me, how proud he is, how lovely I look. I knew him so well that I feel like I can pick out the exact words he would say to me today; and I hope it stays like that always, that he’ll never really be gone.
I’m so lost in my daydreams that May sneaks up on me. “You look beautiful, Ames,” she says, reaching up to touch the intricate high collar of my dress.
“Mary outdid herself, didn’t she?” I answer, touching parts of the dress myself. Mary is the only one of my original maids still with me. When the dust settled, we found out so many more lives were lost than we’d guessed at first. While Lucy made it through the attack and chose to retire, Anne was simply gone.
Another empty place today that ought to be filled.
“My gosh, Ames, you’re shaking.” May grabs my hands and tries to still them, laughing at my nerves.
“I know. I can’t help it.”
“Marlee,” May calls. “Come help me calm America down.”
My one and only bridesmaid walks over, her eyes as bright as ever; and with the two of them surrounding me, I do start to feel less tense.
“Don’t worry, America; I’m sure he’ll show up,” she teases. May laughs, and I swat at them both.
“I’m not worried he’ll change his mind! I’m afraid I’ll trip or mispronounce his name or something. I have a talent for messing things up,” I lament.
Marlee puts her forehead on mine. “Nothing could mess up today.”
“May!” Mom hisses.
“Okay, Mom’s losing it. See you up there.” She gives me a ghost kiss on my cheek, making sure not to leave a lipstick smudge, and goes on her way. The music plays, and they walk together around the corner and down the aisle that’s waiting for me.
Marlee steps back. “Am I next?”
“Yes. I love this color on you, by the way.”
She juts out her hip, posing in the gown. “You have great taste, Your Majesty.”
I suck in a breath. “No one’s called me that yet. Oh, goodness, that’s going to be my name to pretty much everyone.” I try to adjust to the words quickly. The coronation is part of the wedding. First the vows to Maxon, then the ones to Illéa. Rings, then crowns.
“Don’t start getting nervous again!” she insists.
“I’m trying! I mean, I knew it was coming; it’s just a lot for one day.”
“Ha!” she exclaims as the music shifts. “Wait until tonight.”
“Marlee!”
Before I can scold her, she scampers away, winking as she goes, and I’m forced to giggle. I’m so glad to have her back in my life. I officially made her one of my attendants, and Maxon did the same for Carter. It was a clear sign to the public of what was coming with Maxon’s reign, and I was happy to see how many people welcomed the change.
I listen, waiting. I know the notes are coming soon, so I take one last chance to straighten my dress.
It’s truly magnificent. The white gown is fitted through my hips, flitting out in waves to the floor. The lace sleeves are short and lead to a high collar that genuinely makes me look like a princess. Over the dress, a sleeveless capelike coat flows out behind me, making a train. I’ll take it off for the reception, where I intend to dance with my husband until I can’t stand anymore.
“Ready, Mer?”
I turn to Aspen. “Yes. I’m ready.”
He holds an arm out for me, and I put mine through his. “You look incredible.”
“You clean up pretty nice yourself,” I comment. And though I smile, I know he sees my nervousness.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” he assures me, that confident smile making me believe that whatever he says is true, same as always.
I take in a deep breath and nod. “Right. Just don’t let me fall, okay?”
“Don’t worry. If you look unsteady, I’ll hand you this.” He holds up the deep-blue cane, specially made to match his dress uniform, and the idea makes me laugh.
“There we go,” he says, happy to see me genuinely smile.
“Your Majesty?” Silvia asks. “It’s time.” Her tone is slightly awed.
I give her a nod, and Aspen and I make our way to the doors.
“Knock ’em dead,” he says just before the music rises and we’re revealed to the guests.
All the fear rushes back. Though we tried to keep the guest list small, hundreds of people line the aisle that will take me to Maxon. And as they all rise to greet me, I can’t see him.
I just need to see his face. If I can find those steady eyes, I’ll know I can do this.
I smile, trying to stay calm, graciously nodding at our guests, thanking them for their presence here today. But Aspen knows.
“It’s okay, Mer.”
I look to him, and the encouragement in his expression helps.
I keep moving.
It’s not the most graceful parade down the aisle. It’s also not the fastest. With Aspen’s leg so injured, we have to hobble our way slowly to the front. But who else could I have asked? Who else would I have asked? Aspen had shifted to fill a desperate place in my life. Not my boyfriend, not my friend, but my family.
I had expected him to say no, afraid it was somehow an insult. But he’d said he was honored and embraced me when I’d asked.
Devoted and true, even to the very end. That’s my Aspen.
Finally I see a familiar face in the crowd. Lucy is there, sitting with her father. She beams with pride for me, though really she can hardly tear her eyes off Aspen. He stands a little taller as we pass her. I know that soon it will be her turn, and I’m looking forward to it. Aspen couldn’t have made a better choice.
Beside her, filling up the closest rows, are the other Selected girls. It was brave of them to come back for me, considering not everyone who should be here is. Still, they smile, even Kriss, though I can see the sadness in her eyes. I’m shocked by how much I wish Celeste was here. I c
an imagine her rolling her eyes and then winking, or something like that. Making some wisecrack that was almost snotty but not quite. I really, really miss her.
I miss Queen Amberly, too. I can only imagine how happy she would have been today, finally getting a daughter. I feel as if marrying Maxon makes it okay for me to love her that way, like a mother. I’m certain I always will.
And then there’s my mom and May holding on to each other so tightly they look as if they’re supporting each other. Around them are so many smiles. It’s almost overwhelming how loved I feel.
I’m so distracted by their faces that I forget how close I am to the end of the aisle. As I turn forward . . . he’s there.
And then it seems as if no one else is here at all.
No cameras filming, no bulbs flashing. It’s just us. It’s just Maxon and me.
He’s wearing his crown, and the suit with the blue sash and the medals. What did I say the first time he wore it? Something about hanging him up with the chandeliers, I think. I smile, remembering the long journey that got us here, standing at the altar.
Aspen’s last few steps are slow but steady. When we reach our destination, I turn to him. Aspen gives me one last smile, and I reach over to kiss his cheek, saying good-bye to so many things. We share a look for a moment, and he takes my hand and puts it in Maxon’s, giving me away.
They nod to each other, nothing but respect in their faces. I don’t think I could ever understand all that’s passed between them, but it feels peaceful in that moment. Aspen steps back, and I step forward, arriving at the one place I never thought I’d be.
Maxon and I move close to each other as the ceremony starts.
“Hello, my dear,” he whispers.
“Don’t start,” I warn in return, and we’re both left smiling.
He holds my hands as if they’re the only things pinning him to the earth, and I focus on that as I prepare myself for the words coming, the promises I’ll never break. It’s magical, really, the power this day has.
But even now I know this isn’t a fairy tale. I know that we’ll have hard times, confusing times. I know that things won’t always happen the way we want them to and that we’ll have to work to remember that we chose this. It won’t be perfect, not all the time.
