America

I inwardly cringe as a piece of lettuce falls of my fork and flutters to the floor. Salads are impossible to eat nicely. Luckily, Queen Amberley, who's seated next to me, is looking away and doesn't seem to notice.

Most of the girls seem to be having a great time. Marlee and Celeste are competing to see who can eat more spinach and artichoke dip. A few of the girls are eating daintily, but most are attacking the hors d'oeuvres passionately.

Amberley laughs lightly. "Hors d'oeuvres really are the best part of a meal, aren't they?" She comments. "When I first came to the palace, I didn't even know what a hors d'oeuvres was. We always just called them appetizers."

"I was the same way," I confide. "I remember being offered pinwheels and bruschetta with olive tapenade but having no clue what either of them were."

Down the table, Kriss no longer seems to be having fun. Earlier in the meal, she had been smiling and joking around with some of the girls. Now, she has set down her fork and is clasping her chest with her hand.

Maxon, who has also noticed, begins to look concerned. Politely, he excuses himself from conversation with Bariel and walks over to stand behind his wife. He whispers something in her ear, and after a brief conversation, Kriss stands up.

"I'm afraid I must retire to my room," she announces quietly. "Please continue to enjoy your dinners!"

She withdraws from the room and everyone (not-so-discreetly) looks up at Maxon questioningly.

"Nothing to worry about," he reassures us. Neither his expression nor Amberley's reveals anything but calm.

Slowly, we return to the hors d'oeuvres. The main dishes start to trickle out of the dining room and we ooh and ahh at each of them. Marlee admits defeat as Celeste piles her plate high and smirks. "You'll have to drag me upstairs," she groans.

"Me too, but it's worth it," Celeste says. "The only time I'll eat this well again is my wedding! Better make the most of it."

When desserts come out, most of the girls protest that they couldn't possibly eat another bite. Personally, I've purposely eaten light during the main course so I can eat as much dessert as possible. Every dessert is prettier than the next, and I quickly end up with a much fuller plate than I intend. I take a small bite of a chocolate soufflé and groan.

Next to me, Amberley has selected a single dessert: a dainty cup of rice pudding. Celeste is also working her way through the desserts, and even Marlee is picking at some flan.

"Pass this to Lady America Singer." A voice says. Maxon.

A plate is set in front of me. Strawberry tarts.

I smile gratefully at him. "I seem to have overestimated myself," I say, gesturing at my plate.

Maxon laughs. "You know, you don't have to finish it all."

"Oh, yes, I do." I say. I know you're technically allowed to waste food in the palace, but it isn't my nature. My mother would be appalled.

Even Celeste seems to have finally given up. I reach for a strawberry tart— heaven. I can't resist taking another.

Next to me, Amberley stands. "A toast," she announces, "to all the lovely ladies here tonight. The Selection has always brought us together as a nation, and it seems that the tradition has continued. The bonds of friendship remain strong, and I am so very pleased that you all have returned for one last time. To the Selection, and to Illéa!"

"To the Selection!" We all echo.

To the best and worst experience of my life.

I do not regret it.

***
Kriss

Maxon shuts the door as he comes in. "What are you doing?"

"Reading," I say, holding up the book. 

He frowns. "Why haven't you gone to the hospital wing?"

"It's sweet of you to worry, but I'm completely fine. It's just stress."

"Still, there's no harm in double checking," he urges.

"Maybe later. Actually— there was something I wanted to mention to you. I was thinking about looking to teach. As a volunteer, of course."

Maxon furrowed his eyebrows. "We were just talking about how stressed you were, and now you want to take on more work?"

"I know it's a lot, but I wouldn't let it interfere with my official duties. Maxon, I'm so passionate about education. It means everything to me."

"Well if it means that much, then who am I to argue?" He sits next to me on the bed. "But seriously, I want you to take it slow. I'm worried about you."

"I will," I promise. "Maxon, I know we've never had a grand love story, and I'm sorry. You deserve that. But I'm so grateful you're with me."

He smiles. "Me too."