The Princess- A selection story

Chapter 20- Adeline

I haven't seen Maxon in a while. For this reason, I grow curious. Perhaps he is busy with royal duty? I mean, Spain has just provided resources to Illea, which could be the first step in an alliance. Maybe he was managing this? Even so, I trust him. I hope that he's coping well.

The women's room seems so much quieter now, without Marlee and Natalie especially, we just sit in silence. But today, it's only me in there. I can truly appreciate its beauty this way. Soon Kriss comes in giddily, hands clutching her heart. "Hey, someone's happy today." Kriss nods joyfully. "Do share, I could use something to cheer me up." She pauses "I don't know if it would cheer you up... but... I've been on a date with Maxon!" Masking my confusion well, I smile "That's great Kriss, honestly I'm happy for you." She sighs, and sits next to me "He's so romantic... and well... we kissed." I just nod, any possible tension diffused by Elise coming into the room and sitting down, not talking with any of us, simply opening a notebook and drawing.

I see this as a golden opportunity to change the subject. "What's her problem?" I whisper "She... is taking it very seriously at this point." Kriss breathes. I shrug "Her loss. Want to do something fun today?" Kriss beams, and we spend the day together.

At night, I sit in bed and think carefully about everything. Why was I so jealous of his lips on Kriss'? You won't know how much you love him until you lose him. Is this love? In this moment I don't care about the idea of freedom, living, travelling, marrying whoever, all I want is him. And I think I'm ready to confess.

I eagerly walk to his room, and a guard attempts to stop me "Go back to bed miss." I roll my eyes. "Actually, I need to see the prince." The guard smirks "I don't think he'd appreciate company right now." I brush this off, and carry on, despite the guard's comment. On the way to his room, I catch the eye of a maid, who bends down in front of me to fix her shoe, oddly, because there seemed nothing wrong with it. "He's not there. Try downstairs." She whispers sadly. I thank her and she responds "He's not anywhere you couldn't find him if you looked anyway. Besides," she said, her eyes full of admiration, "we like you." I smile at her kind gesture, and make my way downstairs.

I check many of the rooms, yet I cannot find him at all. About to give up, I hear it.

Another whisper.

A flirtatious giggle.

A warm sigh.

The sounds focused, and I was certain where they were coming from. I took one more step forward, looked to my left, and saw a couple embracing in the shadows. After the image settled and my eyes adjusted to the light, a shock went through me.

Maxon's blond hair was unmistakable, even in the darkness. But what I'd never seen before, never imagined before, was how that hair would look with Celeste's long fingers, nails painted red, digging into it.

Maxon was all but pinned to the wall by Celeste's body. Her free hand was pressed against his chest, and her leg was wrapped around his, the slit of her dress revealing her long leg, tinted slightly blue in the dark of the hall. She pulled back slightly, only to fall back into him slowly, teasing him it seemed.

I kept waiting for him to tell her to get off him, to tell her she wasn't what he wanted. But he didn't. Instead he kissed her. She lavished in it and giggled again at his affection. He whispered something in her ear, and Celeste leaned in and kissed him, deeper, harder than before. The strap of her dress fell off her shoulder, leaving what seemed like miles of exposed skin down her back. Neither of them bothered to fix it.

Celeste's lips slid off Maxon's and settled onto his neck. She gave another obnoxious giggle and kissed him once more. Maxon closed his eyes and smiled. With Celeste no longer blocking him, I was in Maxon's line of sight.

When he opened his eyes, he saw me. I didn't quite know what to do. Should I laugh? Should I cry? Should I stay? Should I leave? I've followed my heart so far, so I let it have a last turn at controlling me. I stare him in the eyes, a look which told him all he needed to know, and I left, knowing Celeste didn't see me.

How could I be so stupid?

I just flop on my bed, sobbing into a pillow. I knew this was a bad idea, coming here, opening up to him, loving him.

Predictably, I soon hear a sharp knock at my door. I don't bother with composure, I sought him out to tell him how I feel, and that's not going to change now.

"You lied to me. You said you'd wait. And guess why I was going to find you? I was ready." A mix of anger, regret and sadness is evident in my voice now.

"Adeline, what I do with any other girls is nothing to do with how I feel about you." He snaps

"Why do you want her. She's a fake, Maxon. Surely you can see it? She'll lose any dignity as long as she gets the crown."

"I can see it." His calm is unnerving.

"Then why. Then why do this." I whisper

No answer. And I think I know why. My uncle has told me of all the scandals of the Illean royals, it was my favourite history lesson actually, and if he knows what I do about Gregory Illea, then it makes sense Maxon would follow in his footsteps.

"I'm done. I'm done with it all. I won't do it any longer."

"No, you're only done when I say you're done." Maxon corrected. "You're upset and angry, but not done."

"WHY WONT YOU LET ME GO?" I sob angrily "YOU DONT KNOW HOW MUCH IVE GIVEN UP FOR YOU, FOR THIS, AND THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS?"

He reaches out to me but I push him away, flinching from his touch. "I understand why you are angry but-"

" I am beyond angry because you, Maxon Schreave, you are nothing but a child who has his hands on a toy that he doesn't want but can't stand for someone else to have."

He glares "Do not call me a child."

"What are you going to do about it?" I challenge

Maxon grabbed my wrists, pinning my arms behind my back, and I saw the anger in his eyes. I was glad it was there. I wanted to be provoked- I wanted to be able to justify tearing him apart.

But there was no rage in him. Instead I felt the warm buzz of electricity that had been missing for a long time. Maxon's face was inches from mine, his eyes searching my own, perhaps wondering how he'd be received, perhaps not caring at all.

He doesn't fight as I pull away, resisting the urge to feel the beautiful sensation of his lips on mine. I couldn't. Not like this.

"Are you going to send me home?" I ask quietly, and he shakes his head, unwilling or unable to speak.

"Then go."

I wait until the door closes to cry. Sobbing furiously, throwing pillows on the floor, screaming to myself. All I wanted was him, and I wasn't enough.