The Photographer (Selection Fanfic) (Finished)

XXIII

"Good evening gentlemen," King Clarkson says walking to the front, " I'm so glad everyone could make it. Not only does this give my daughter a chance to get know your families a bit more, but it allows me to inform the suitors on what being a Prince Elect end tales. Being King and Prince Elect are somewhat similar, yet different," He begins explains.

"How?" Griffin asks. King Clarkson raises an eyebrow.

" Well, first off you're not the one in full control. The queen-"

"Why do we become the Prince Elect and not the King?" Griffin interrupts.

"Because Gregory Illéa always wanted the true born royal to be in full control. And a King has more control than a queen," King Clarkson pauses daring anyone to argue against him, " But even though you won't be King there will be some similarities. For example, anything to do with the military or even war the Prince Elect will mainly deal with that. Something I deal with that the Prince Elect won't is treaties or even deals with other countries. That will mainly be Princess or Queen America's job. But if you think being a Prince Elect is going to be easy you might as well walk out now," He raises an eyebrow, and quickly glance over at me. I'm bit confused why he's glancing at me but decide not to over think it.

Griffin raises his hand, " Aside from the responsibilities of a Prince Elect. What Attributes should he have?"

"Was that just an intelligent question?" Harper whispers. I roll my eyes and glance over at my Dad who has a big smile on his face.

"Attributes?" He thinks for a moment, " Be strong-willed. Know what you want, and get it done. Don't waste any time."

" Is our future queen held to the same level?" Tyler asks interested.

"Of course," King Clarkson nods, "I've trained my daughter to be the perfect queen. To make no mistakes, and shown how to run a country." While listening I feel my heart break for America. It almost sounds as if he hasn't allowed America to be her own person. To enjoy life. As if he modeled her into the person he wanted her to be. Not what America wanted to be. I realize why her Father doesn't want her to play the piano. It isn't in line with his plan for American. He doesn't want her to waste time on anything for enjoyment. She's always working, or learning. She's probably never had time to be her own person. Instead, she's been drilled how she supposed to talk, act, and in the end be as a person. As if America isn't enough, " A future Prince Elect is in this room," He looks around the room, " The question is who is it going to be," He grins and walks inside without another word.

" Well, isn't he lovely," Griffin whispers.

"I wouldn't say that if I were you, Griffin," Tyler raises an eyebrow.

" Who are you to tel-" Griffin begins but is cut off by my Father.

"Why don't we stop fighting and enjoy the rest of the evening," My father offers and everyone agrees. The evening surprisingly was enjoyable. We sat around the table talked, played cards. Around 10 o'clock we all decide to call it a night. Before heading to bed I walked my Dad back to his room.

"Have fun?"I ask killing the silence.

"I did," He nods, " Maxon, I just want you to know. Whether Princess America picks you or not. Just know that I and your mother love you no matter what," He stops in front of his door. I nod trying not to tear up. It's been months since I've heard those words. My dad smiles and pats me on the back, " Night Max. See you in the morning," He opens his bedroom door.

" Night Dad," I smile as he closes the door. I stand in front of the door for a few seconds thinking about what he just said. "Just know that I and your mother love you no matter what," My whole life my parents have shown me, unconditional love. Even at my worst, they've loved me. Right away I think about America. Have her parents shown her unconditional love? I sigh and decide to head to bed. As I'm walking down the hall to my bedroom I realized I left my camera outside. I run downstairs, and outside. I see my camera on the table we were playing cards on it. I grab it and head back inside. As I'm walking inside I see someone I didn't think I would see: America. She comes walking out of the hospital wing.

"Are you alright?" I asked worriedly walking over to her. Her eyes widen shock to see me but composes herself right away.

"Of course, I'm fine. Just not feeling great. I think I'm coming down with something," She explains wrapping her arms around herself shielding herself. She says she's sick, but she doesn't look sick. Her eyebrows are drawn together. Her fingernails are digging into her arms, and she is gritting her teeth. She doesn't look sick she looks in pain.

"America? Are you sure you-"

" Of course, I'm okay!" She exclaims and begins walking over to the stairs. I'm a bit in shock over her anger, but that doesn't stop me from making sure she's truly okay.

"American, you don't seem-"

She stops walks up the stairs, and turns around, "Maxon. I said I'm okay. I'm just coming down with-" She stops and her hands go into fists. I'm about to say something, but she beat me to it, " Maxon, I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I'll be as good as new tomorrow. This happens all the time. I come down with colds all the time. It's just from all the work, and no sleep I'm going on," She breathes, "Thank you for your concern. I can walk to my room by myself. Good night," She finishes and doesn't even give me a chance to respond. She quickly walked up the stairs, but when she reaches the last step I hear whimpering. I'm about to run up to stairs to see what's wrong, but I remember she didn't want me to follow her. I helplessly walk back to my room and get ready for bed. I lay in bed all night confused.