Gone But Not Forgotten

Ch 2 - Afraid Of

America is no longer writing in the journal.

I wake with the sun in my eyes, momentarily blinded. I get out of bed slowly, careful not to wake Maxon, and close the drapes. Mary must have forgotton to close them last night. This is the first time she has ever forgotten. Strange...

There's probably something else on her mind. Maybe she was caught up sewing a new gown or helping a new maid that isn't sure where to go. Mary is like that, trusting our bond of friendship to the point of carelessness. I don't mind. It's nice to do something on my own, even something as small as closing the drapes.

I head over to my desk and look for the journal I wrote everything in. Maxon did say that writing everything down would make this huge decision easier, but I don't think it's helping. I glance at the pages I wrote yesterday, fiercely embarrassed that a queen was acting this way. A queen is supposed to be able to support herself and her country.

I sigh. Amberly is the perfect queen, a way better choice then me. Why did Maxon pick the most unqualified girl for the job? Elise would've made a great queen, with her connections in New Asia and her quiet determination. Or Celeste, she would be a perfect role model for the kingdom and she would look good next to Maxon. Natalie was quiet but caring, a perfect qualities for a great queen. Or...I can't swallow. It's not her fault that Maxon found out about Aspen and almost ended up in my position. Kriss would be a perfect queen with her great ideas and enthusiasm.

Maxon rolls over in the bed and jerks me from my thoughts. I stiffen and quickly glance down at the journal I'm holding. I can't let anyone find this! I quickly open one of the drawers that holds my music and shove the book in. I asked the maids not to mess with that drawer. Maxon rotates again and I quickly jump into bed with him.

I pull the blankets up to my chest and stare at the cracks in the ceiling until I fall asleep.

* * * *

"America, darling, wake-up...we have a very important decision to make today..." calls Maxon softly as he leans over to kiss my cheek.

I let his lips brush my cheek and then answer, "I'm still not your darling." Then I tug at the covers to pull them over my head, but realize that I can't. When I finally decide to open my eyes, I realize that Maxon is sitting on top of the blankets so that I cannot pull them over my head and hide until Mary comes and drags me out.

"I've figured out all your tricks," he says with a sly smile and pulls the blankets back. I shiver as cold air meets my warm skin and pause for a moment. "You're so slow today! We have a big decision to make today about our future heiress." He pauses for a moment with a sparkle in his eye. "So, did my journal idea work?"

That almost got me out of bed. "No, it didn't. I guess that can be added onto the list of things you're not good at. So far, the list includes cooking, war strategy, staying away from me, and the newest addition, giving me 'smart' ideas." I used quotations with my hands for extra emphasis on 'smart.' "We should really start writing the things you aren't good at on paper, it's getting quite long."

"That's it! No more strawberry tarts!"

"No! I'll be good, I promise!" With the threat of no more strawberry tarts on the line, I find the strength to leap our of bed. When I turn around, I see Maxon on the bed, laughing his head off.

"Works every time," he says with a smile. He leaps out of bed with the same power I did and presses his lips to mine. I feel a warmth spreading over me and I run my fingers through his hair. I put my arms around his back, feeling hard muscle expand and contract. We fit together like two halves of a whole.

The doorknob starts to turn so we quickly break apart. Mary walks in looking flustered. "Sorry your Majesty, we need to get you dressed for the council meeting."

My heart misses a beat. The council meeting. The time when my family's future will be drastically changed. I'm the queen, though, so I must put aside any fears I have for the good of Illea. I sigh and let Mary lead me to my personal chambers.

* * * *

There's a beautiful woman standing in the mirror.

Her fiery hair is pulled into an elegant bun with several small strands of hair framing her face. Her gown has a sweetheart neckline and is colored a light orange that fades to a deep burgundy, giving the appearance of her being on fire. She has a golden tiara that seems to be alive with fame and shimmers when she moves her head. That beautiful woman cannot be me.

"T—Thank you Mary! It's beautiful!" stuttering in my shock.

"Your welcome your Majesty. You better hurry though, the meeting starts soon," answers Mary with an amused grin. I sneak one more glance in the mirror. This fiery woman looks as if she can do anything: she can burn the tallest tower, rule the biggest forest, and accomplish anything she wants done.

I'm going to need that confidence.

* * * *

Maxon is waiting outside his room for me, his face blank as if looking into the future. His expression brightens when he sees me and he quickly offers his arm. I take his hand and we walk down the hallway. It's nice to take our time and admire the beautiful family portraits that line the hallway.

I still remember when we had to hurry down the hallway in fear that the rebels might take advantage of an unsuspecting royal. Celeste was one of many examples of innocent people who fell into the trap that the rebels have woven. I shudder and Maxon looks at me, trying to comfort me. His actions are in vain, though, for something is reflected in his eyes. He's afraid too.

But what are we afraid of: the future or the past? Which should we be afraid of?

We stop outside two big oak doors that lead to the conference room. We look into each other's eyes, giving us strength. Maxon takes a deep breath and opens the doors. Our future awaits.