A/N: I can't believe this is it...I'm sorry it took so long for me to post. I wanted to make sure that I got this right, and I'm still not 100% happy with it. But I hope you guys enjoy!

Thank you for every single review and follow. It means a lot that you stuck with me through my long break. I'm happy I could finish this, and I'll be working on some original stuff and some one-shots. You guys are amazing, and its truly been a pleasure to write for you.

I couldn't take my eyes off the King. His eyes were still open, glassy and still, the knife gripped loosely in his hand. Maxon's grip tightened on me in fear.

"I…I didn't mean to," he stuttered. "It was an accident. He fell, and I tried to catch him." I could feel his breath rattling his chest, the way his hands shook against me. Maxon pulled me a little closer. Amberly looked up from her husband, her eyes studying her son. They focused on his swelling eye, on the cut from the knife on his arm. Her eyes met mine briefly before looking back at him.

"You both need to go. Now."

"Your majesty," I pleaded, but the Queen shook her head.

"If the guards come, then assumptions will be made. Maxon, take your guards and get out of here. Go to your rooms and stay there until I come for you," she ordered. "Get the physician to look at America."

"Mother- "

"How many times has he hit you before this? How many times that I didn't know about?" she asked, her voice as sharp as a steel blade. Maxon opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. I knew of a few times. I wondered how many nights Maxon was the subject of his father's wrath. That response was all Queen Amberly needed. Her face hardened into a regal mask, the resolve evident in the set of her shoulders. "Go."

Maxon nodded his head and took my hand. He led me down the hall, where he opened a door that held a staircase that went into the lower levels of the castle. We went down a flight before meeting Carter and another guard whose name I wasn't sure of.

"Your highness," he quickly addressed, but he stopped short when he saw our state, especially mine. Their eyes fell on me, on the bloodstained tatters of my dress. Carter's eyes widened in horror. I curled into Maxon, who protectively pulled me closer. "What…what happened?" Carter asked.

"Right now is not the time to explain. I need your help," Maxon said. "We need to get Lady America to my chambers as quickly and quietly as possible. We do not need to be seen."

"I'll scout ahead," the other guard murmured before giving Maxon a bow. He headed down the stairs and turned the corner. I was so tired and parched. Before I could take a step, Carter picked me up in his arms.

"What are-

"You look dead on your feet," he murmured. Maxon gave him a grateful nod. I knew I was moving way too slow. A soft chirp echoed from down the stairway, signaling that we were clear. We moved quickly, but Carter was careful not to jostle me. I tried to keep my eyes open, to focus on where we were going and the danger we faced, but my adrenaline was gone. I had nothing left. My world faded to black just as Carter went up a flight of stairs.

When I came to, it was dark outside, the room was filled with the soft light of a fire. I had bandages around my chest and stomach, covering the wounds on my back and sides. I blushed a little bit over the state the physician must have seen me in, but that wasn't my biggest worry. I slowly sat up and looked around the room.

Maxon was seated at the fireplace, watching the flames with apt attention. I tried to move to get out of bed, but a sharp pain ran up my side. I gasped, and he turned towards me.

"America."

He came to sit beside me. He gave me a look over, examining every inch of me. It gave me a chance to do the same. Maxon's good eye was red and puffy, the color in his cheeks gone. The bruised eye was swollen shut, the skin now dark purple. He lowered me back in to bed.

"You have to be thirsty," he warbled. His voice shook despite the effort he made to steady it. He reached for a glass of water on the side table, helping me take a few precious sips. I swallowed it and cleared my throat.

"Maxon, what happened?"

He straightened the blanket around me before he answered. "Mother called the guards once we were well away. She told them she had found him like that. No one but his personal guards knew he had you up there. They've been imprisoned. When they mentioned you, the Queen told them that I had come to get you and that'd the charges against you were false. The guards loyal to mother and me helped back her story." I nodded my head. I was grateful for the Queen's help. "I'm King now," he whispered. "I'm the King because I killed my father." A single tear rolled his cheek. I brushed it away with my thumb. My heart broke for Maxon. By the look of him, that was not the first one to fall.

"No, Maxon," I countered. "His death was an accident. Despite what your father did, you would never wish him dead."

"It was my fault, though."

"It was self-defense. He attacked you first. And you were defending me." I brushed his cheek, and he reached up, holding my hand there.

"When you were missing, I thought of a thousand terrible things he could have done. I knew he'd gotten to you, and I worried that I would be too late to save you."

"It's okay," I promised him. He dropped my hand, his expression bleak.

"I'm such a terrible person," he admitted. "What he did to you…I wanted to kill him. And when I saw him lying on the floor, for a moment, I was relieved. I was glad he was out of our lives, that he could never hurt you again. And then I was ashamed." He ran a hand through his hair. "How could a son think that? What kind of person does that make me?"

I took his hand in both of mine. "It makes, you human, Maxon. He was your father, and he did some terrible things. I think it is normal to feel conflicted."

"I never wanted you to have scars like that," he said, his voice thick. Tears pooled in his eyes. "I never wanted you to ever feel that kind of pain." He tucked my hair behind my ear, his tears falling freely now. I couldn't stand it anymore. I pulled Maxon down to me, cradled him in my arms, and he willingly sank into them. Silent sobs racked his body, and I cried right along with him.

"I would have taken a thousand more if it meant you never got to feel it again," I told him.

"It wasn't fair."

"It wasn't, but we got through it."

"Together," he amended. "I don't know what I'd do without you, darling." His fingers brushed my cheek. I stared deep into his eyes, trying to convey the love and admiration I had for him. Maxon was so good. It wasn't fair that this happened to him, the guilt he felt. It wasn't his fault. I wanted to take it away from him, but I knew only time would help. And I would be there every step of the way.

"God willing, you'll never have to."

We just laid there for a while, our breathing steadying as we both got it out. Maxon didn't say anything else. He seemed to calm a little in my embrace. I think I dosed off a couple of times, but the soft touches from Maxon always brought me back. He'd brush my cheek, place his lips against my forehead, give my hand a squeeze. We shifted so we were both lying down and facing each other. I bit my lip. I needed to ask about my family, but I didn't want to bring it back up.

"What is it, darling?" He voice was weak, but it was saturated in love. I didn't know how I deserved someone like him.

"It can wait until morning," I promised. Maxon raised his brows disbelievingly before giving me a soft smile.

"I know your worried face when I see it. You'll be up all night agonizing over it, and you need to rest. What is it?"

"Is my family okay? My father- "

"They are all safe. Your family should arrive in the morning. I sent for them while you were asleep. As for your father, the King also sent guards after him, but he was intercepted by some rebels who took him to safety. They were the ones who told me that he was holding you in the cells. I sent Shalom to bed a few hours ago. He was dead on his feet worrying over you, and there was no point in both of us watching you sleep. He's just down the hall, if you wish me to get him."

"Let him sleep." I laced my fingers through Maxon's and gave them a squeeze. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For loving me. For protecting me. For taking me as I am, flaws and all. For never giving up on me."

He smiled, one so genuine and heart-stoppingly pure that my own sputtered in response. He rose from the bed, going to a tiny chest on a table nearby. He rummaged through it for a second before returning with a ring. It was absolutely stunning. The center was set with a ruby, and the sides held the coat of arms of the Schreave family.

"This ring has been in our family for generations. It's traditionally given to the Prince Consort when he marries, to give to the future Queen. I had the diamond replaced with a ruby. It seemed more you."

All I could do was nod my head. Maxon knelt by the bedside. There were still tear tracks down his cheeks, but it was overshadowed by the love in his eyes. He took my hand and lightly kissed the back of it. "America Singer…my heart, my love, my wife…I promised you that we would make it to this day. I wish that all the hardship, that the lies, the deceiving, the games, didn't have to be a part of our story, but in a way, I think that they only made me love you more. They made me so much stronger, a better man, a better King. I've fought for you, and I never want to let you go. Stay with me. Rule with me. No more hiding. I want everyone to know that you are my wife. America…will you marry me? Again?"

I laughed, and I didn't even feel the pain from my cuts. It was just me and him, with nothing but our future. "Yes."

Maxon slipped the ring over my finger. I reached for him, holding him close as I kissed him. He pulled me even closer, his touch so gentle yet so strong. I melted in his embrace. After everything we'd been though, it was nice to know that no matter what came our way, we could handle it.

As long as we were together.

I sat at my dressing table, watching as Mary pinned up my hair. She finished it with a final pin, before setting the tiara on my head.

It didn't seem like it had been a year since Maxon and I were formally married. It felt like even longer since he'd become King, but really, we were married only a few weeks after he took the crown.

So far, the country was thriving under his rule. The rebel attacks had stopped, and now there was an elected council that assisted him in ruling the country. We are growing stronger by the day. Our regions were wealthier, the common folk managing to do more than just get by. Our country was becoming one of opportunity, of a chance to grow and thrive.

"You look beautiful, your majesty."

I touched the tiara with a smile. It still seemed strange to me that I was a Queen. Maxon included me in his meetings, in his councils. I wanted to help the country, and the other nobles seemed very open to my suggestions and thoughts. The weight of the crown was a lot. I had so many people's hope and well-being in my hands, and I tried to never take the privilege that came with leading for granted.

"Thank you, Mary. I honestly feel huge," I admitted. I studied my reflection. My cheeks were getting puffier, but I guess that was to be expected.

"You are glowing!" she countered. "I don't think I'd seen anyone look more dazzling."

I stood up and straightened my dress. It was a little difficult, wearing such a heavy gown, but it fell wonderfully over my bulging tummy. I was just big enough where everyone was starting to notice. Our child brought so much joy into the castle. The Queen was beside herself with joy, and so was Maxon. I knew he was worried about being a good father, but I wasn't. I had no doubt that Maxon would be fantastic.

"I think you have to say that," I pointed out. Mary just smiled.

"You are my Queen, but you are also my friend. I wouldn't lie to you. You carry the babe well, your majesty."

"She does, doesn't she?"

I turned at the voice, all my anxiety leaking away. Maxon stood in the doorway, clad in his regal best. His tunic was covered with the royal sash, a sword strapped at his side. One of the smaller crowns sat upon his head. His hair had grown out slightly. It was starting to dangle in his eye, but it went with his beard. He walked towards me, his smile warming me.

"And how is my son today?" he asked after kissing my cheek.

"Just because you say it's a boy doesn't make it so," I argued. Maxon laughed before kissing me. Every time he did it, every time he touched me….it still felt like the first time. I still felt every point of contact. There were still butterflies in my stomach. He pulled away, that charming smile doubling my joy. "And apparently, we are agitated. The baby has been kicking all day." I rubbed my stomach where I'd just felt a kick.

"Maybe she's just excited," he amended before placing a hand there. "Maybe she knows there's going to be strawberry tarts, and she already loves them just like her mother."

I shook my head, feigning my displeasure, but it didn't work. The grin just wouldn't go away. "Always so charming."

"I want to provide my Queen with whatever she desires. Whether that happens to be strawberry tarts, a party for the masses, or jewels." He offered me his arm, and I gladly took it. Tonight was the final night of the festival, and the whole castle was invited. I thought it would be much better to give something back to the people than throwing a lavish anniversary party for ourselves and the noble elite. Honestly, everything was as perfect as it could be.

"I have everything I desire," I promised.

"There's got to be one thing," he urged. A through crept into my mind, making me smile.

"I can only think of one thing," I admitted. "But I think I already got it."

"Oh? What's that?"

"It's going to sound silly."

"Something silly from you? I wouldn't expect anything less," he teased.

"I'm not telling you now." I broke away from him, heading to the ballroom where our guests were waiting. He grabbed my arm, spinning me into him.

"Tell me, America."

When he looked at me like that, there was nothing I could deny him. "I just want our happy ending to continue."

"That's not silly at all. It will," he whispered. He took my hand and placed his lips on the back of it. "Once our child is born, I think we should start on the next one."

"Done with your son so soon?" I chided him with a grin.

"Not at all. I just want to have a huge family. I want this one to have brothers and sisters," he explained as he laid his hands on my stomach. His fingers drifted up, igniting a yearning inside me. "Plus, I love the sound you make when I-

"Maxon!" I hushed him, giggling all the while. I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing at the thought. "Later," I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. His gaze darkened slightly in the way that set every nerve on edge.

"Later," he agreed, the word heavy with promise. He alerted the page, and we stood behind the doors, waiting for his announcement.

"Presenting his Majesty, King Maxon Calix Schreave, and her majesty, Queen America Schreave!"

The doors opened, and we were greeted with applause and cheers. Maxon gave my hand a squeeze. I never thought I'd make it here. It was a fairy tale come true.

"Together?" he asked. I leaned forward and place a kiss against his cheek. A few cheers came from the crowd.

"Always."

The end