The Princess- A selection story

Chapter 22- Adeline

I can't stay here. I have to write to Harriet and Nicoletta, to tell them that I really tried, but I can't stay here. Not even to help Illea. Every good leader knows to carefully consider their actions and the possible consequences before doing something as big as this though, so I walk to the gardens. The one place I can truly think.

As I passed the hospital wing, the door flew open and I ran right into Maxon, who dropped a sealed metal box. He groaned after we collided, even though it really wasn't that hard.

"What are you doing out of your room?" he asked, slowly bending to pick up the box. I noticed it had his name on the side. I wondered what he was storing in the hospital wing.

"Going to the gardens. I need to think." I say stiffly. "Adeline..." He whispers, as if he had something to say. I shake my head and move on. But then the alarms sound once more and guards start shouting.

"They're inside!" Rebels again. I'm getting quite tired of this now. And then, like bees intent on landing, small, quick things buzzed into the hall. A guard was struck and fell back, his head hitting the marble with a disturbing crack. The blood pours out of his chest and I gasp, starting to shake. Maxon instinctively pulls me close, but pure shock and horror is evident on his face.

"Your Majesty!" a guard called, racing over to us. "You have to get downstairs now!"

He gruffly turned Maxon around and shoved him away. Maxon cried out and dropped the metal box again. I looked over at the guard's hand on Maxon, expecting to see that he'd driven a knife into his back based on the sound Maxon had made. All I saw was a thick, pewter ring around his thumb. I picked up the box by the handle on the side, hoping that didn't mess up anything inside, and ran in the direction the guard was trying to move us.

"I won't make it," Maxon said.

I turned back to him and saw that he was sweating. Something was really wrong with him.

"Yes, sir," the guard said grimly. "This way."

We are led to a small safe room, and Maxon searches for a light switch. "Are you okay?" I ask him quietly, and he nods. He explains to me that this safe room is for servants. I put his box down on the bench I'm sat on.

I notice his pain, how he's struggling to move. "Maxon, something's wrong, isn't it?" He sighs "I can't take it anymore. Please get my coat."

I nod and remove it. He looks at me, as he gestures to the buttons on his shirt. I raise my eyebrow but comply. He grabs my hand before I begin. "This secret goes to your grave. Do you understand?" I stare at him. He's one to talk about secrets. But I nod anyway. I unbutton his shirt, trying to hide the blush on my cheeks, as it is clear there is nothing romantic about this situation.

I try to slide it down, but the back sticks. "Slowly." He asks, and I go to try from the back. Blood. His shirt was drenched in blood. My eyes widen as I fully expose his back. A bleeding gash on his shoulder tore down to his waist and crossed over another one that was also dripping blood, which crossed over another one that had been healed for a while, which crossed over yet another one that was puckered from age. There was too many to count.

I grab a cloth and drench it in water. "This could sting." Maxon sighs "It's fine, I'm used to it." He took it all silently, as I carefully cleaned his back. Then he began to talk.

"It's my father. He... does this."

I gulp. "Why? If you don't mind me asking." He doesn't seem to, so he answers. "As a punishment, to discipline me, to scare me. He has all sorts of reasons. But tonight, I took him on. I felt strong enough to voice my opinion, to go against his wishes. But he found my weakness, and threatened me with it. So I took the beating."

"You're Maxon Schreave. You can't possibly have a weakness." He turns around and stares me in the eyes. "Yes. I do. And it's you." I cover my mouth in shock. He took this beating... for me?

"Does anyone know about what he does?" He shakes his head. "The doctor must, but he's quiet. My mother is mistreated in her own ways, but I'd never want her to worry about this."

"I have more sympathy for Carter and Marlee than you know," he said, trying to sound light. "These things take awhile to stop hurting, especially if you're determined to take care of them on your own."

"I'm so sorry." I whisper, my voice breaking.

I treat him, and we sit in silence for a bit.

"I owe you an explanation. On Kriss and Celeste." He mumbles. "Kriss... she is nice. Steady, dependable. It hasn't always been a bed of roses between you and I, and she's refreshing. She'd be an acceptable choice... but I felt nothing for her, not as long as I had you. I can't work out if we'd have chemistry..."

"And Celeste... well... my whole life is dictated. I just wanted 15 minutes of my life not to matter. I know that she is using me, for the crown, so I didn't feel guilty about using her. I just needed to escape, to feel, and Kriss has boundaries, so I turned to her."

"I understand." I whisper. "I've been stupid and angry and jealous. I pushed you away, but I want you to know that if I could take away all of those beatings on your back, and put them on my own, I would. Because you'd do nearly anything for me, and I pushed you away." I choke, and fall into his arms. I start sobbing again, and he strokes my hair. "Hush now darling, it isn't all your fault. I am partially to blame, I wish I could've done things differently too. Heck, I wish I proposed as soon as I got your uncle's permission at the Spanish ball." I freeze. "What..." He smiles, "It's always been you, Adeline."

We are found a couple hours later, light pouring into the room as I clutch onto Maxon. "They're here! They're alive!" Maxon gets straight back to business, and plants a kiss on my forehead before he searches for his mother.

We're coming...

The same message is repeated all over the palace walls. I look at it and shake my head. For a girl who entered the palace so perfect, so numb, so emotionless... I really have changed. These words scare me now, as I realise. Yes, It's simple and to the point, but so are the rebels. And they want us dead.