The Addition (The Selection)

Chapter Eleven

I wake up later than usual, quickly realizing that my maids have not come to wake me up. This strikes me as odd, but I don't fret it, ringing the bell that summons Marlee to my room instead. Within a few minutes, she is in my room with a tray.

"Good morning, America," she tells me. Marlee quickly bends into a curtsy while also managing to keep the tray balanced. I get out of bed and walk over to the small table where I usually have my breakfast. Marlee sits the tray down and begins taking plates off.

"Good morning, Marlee," I tell her. As I watch her work, I become curious about why she was late coming up. "Why didn't you wake me like usual?" I ask. She shrugs and sits across from me. Before I begin eating, I give her one of the pastries she brought me.

"I figured I would let you sleep in. . . I knew today would probably be a little hard with it being a month and all. . ." she says quietly. I shake my head. The first week or so were not the greatest but I'll be honest; I have recovered. This was something Maxon and I have worked through. 

"It isn't the happiest anniversary, I will admit, but I am not the first person to lose a child, Marlee. I am fine," I tell her as I take a sip of orange juice. She nods and takes a bite of her pastry. I eat a light breakfast, hardly eating half of what she got me. 

After our silent breakfast, I stand up and walk over towards my bathroom to begin getting dressed. Marlee does not follow and I realize she scheduled a fitting for me today. "Do we have to do the dress fitting today?" I complain. She nods. 

"Yep, now come on," she tells me. She leads me to the dressing room I use only for special events when Maxon is not allowed to see what I am wearing. I stand up on the stand while she goes digging for a measuring tape. 

Once she finds one, she begins taking the usual measurements, stretching the measuringtape around my bust, around my waist, and from my shoulders to my feet. Several times I notice her taking the measurements twice for certain parts of my body. "There really is no reason to stress. All the distances should be the same," I tell her.

Marlee looks up at me and shakes her head. "You're right, they should be. What I am concerned about it that they aren't," she tells me. I raise my eyebrows and take the measuring tape. I measure around my waist and she's right: my waist is almost two inches larger than usual. 

"This isn't right. I have even ate less the last month," I tell  her. She shrugs. 

"Well you see it, too, America. There is something wrong. Maybe we should go see the doctor," she tells me. I shake my head. 

"No. I don't think a little weight gain is anything to go alerting the doctor about. I am sure it is nothing," I tell her with a shrug. I step down from the platform and lead the way from the dressing room and back to my bedroom. 

"Well there still could be something wrong with that weight gain. No one is going to judge if it is just something silly. You need to go see the doctor," she tells me as she follows me. I open the door to my wardrobe and walk into the bathroom. 

"If I say I'll go will that make you happy?" I yell back as I pull my dress over my head. 

"Of course it will. Should I go alert King Maxon?" she asks me. I stop moving and suddenly become panicked over this. I quickly shake it off.

"No. He has far more important matters to attend to," I tell her. She mumbles a response back as I pull my braid out of my hair. Neither of us speak as I walk out of the bathroom. She doesn't insist I do my hair or make up as we walk into the hallway silently. 

When we reach the clinic, it is empty except for the doctor talking with a nurse. He looks a little shocked when he sees Marlee and Me. The nurse curtsies and walks away to one of the little rooms off the main hall. "Queen America, how can I help you today?" he asks me. 

"We discovered something today when my maid, Marlee, was taking my measurements. My waist was about two inches larger than it should be. Several of my measurements were," we tell him. He nods and points towards one of the rooms. 

"I think I might no what is going on. Go ahead and go into that room. Would you like for me to call the king?" he asks. I shake my head, mumble a no and enter the room. I sit on the table and Marlee sits on the chair next to it. We sit in silence for several minutes before the doctor enters. 

"I had some suspicions based off of what you told me and I just did some quick research on it," he tells me before sitting down. I raise an eyebrow as a way of questioning him. "It seems that you may be having a hysterical pregnancy."