"Kriss, dear?" A voice calls out. I'm laying on my bed, slices of cucumber on my eyes.

"Yes?" I reply, not bothering to look.

"I heard there was a mix-up with the dresses."

Uh-oh. I calmly remove the cucumbers and sit up. "Don't trouble yourself, dear. I fixed it."

"Good." He smiles. "Whose dress was it, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Marlee's. The maid must have grabbed the wrong dress."

"Well, it was very kind of you to lend her one of your-"

"Won't you stay?" I interrupt him.

He frowns. "I'm afraid not. I still have a few things to do."

"You work too much." I scold him. "Someday, I'll take you to the beach."

He grins. "It's a deal."

***
America

Someone is knocking at my door, and I don't want to get up.

Blearily, I look up from my book and open my eyes. There is no maid in sight. For a second I'm confused, and then I remember that Holly told me this morning that she went to bed early.

I grimace and haul myself out of bed. As an afterthought, I wrap my dressing gown around me, and I swing open the door.

I freeze. Maxon freezes. "Hi." I say, awkwardly.

"Hi." He repeats. "I- I wanted to make sure... that you were, um, well?"

"Yes, I'm fine." I reply.

"Good. Good." He fiddles with his cuffs. "And I actually wanted to talk to you. If you don't mind."

"I don't mind."

"I just wanted to- apologize. For that fight that we had."

"Maxon- Your Majesty- that was years ago."

"I know, but I overreacted. I don't want to spend the rest of this visit avoiding your eyes. I was wondering if we could be friends?"

"Of course." I say. Part of me feels relieved. The other part feels... disappointed? I cover it up quickly. "Friends."

"Good. I-uh, we- Kriss and I- are having a picnic for the Elite tomorrow afternoon. Just so you know."

"I'll be there." I say. "Good night, Your Majesty."

I start to close the door, but he catches it with his foot. "Friends, remember?"

I relent. "Good night, Maxon."

"Good night, America."

***
Kriss

I sulkily pull dresses of of hangers. "Get me a blue one, Lattice."

Said dress is placed in my hand, and I replace a gaudy pink one with bows. I sigh. Looking back, it was all to obvious that I wanted to sabotage America. Especially if she had seen this rack of dresses.

"Kriss?" The voice belongs to Maxon. I scoop up the pile of discarded dresses and shove it into Lattice's arms.

"Yes dear?" To Lattice I whisper, "Take them away. Immediately."

"I was wondering what time you wanted the picnic to be?"

I wave my hand. "Whenever. I don't care."

He steps into the room. "I was hoping that you would organize it. I really don't have a lot of time."

"It was your idea to have the Selected come back to the palace." I counter sullenly.

He sighs. "I thought you would like it. It would be a nice surprise."

"Maxon, I don't want to organize a picnic."

"But don't you-"

"No."

"Alright." He sounds tired. "I'll do it."

I feel bad, but not bad enough to argue with him. I don't want to plan an event, especially not an event for the former Selected. Especially not since America and Marlee will be there.

"Goodnight." I say.

"Goodnight." He hurries away without kissing my cheek. I frown, turning my attention back to the gowns.

I kick the cart away from me angrily. A few dresses fall off of their hangers, but I don't care.

Being royalty isn't what I thought it would be. I had dreamed of a simple, uncomplicated life. Maxon and I would spend time together without worrying about the country. The Selected stayed at home and didn't bother me again.

The life that I dreamed of isn't the life that I'm living.