America
I smiled and looked down at the three babies that were lying beside each other, happily gurgling away. Two of them, Aspen and Celeste, were already sporting dark chocolate brown eyes, almost identical to Maxon's. The third, named Shalom, was the quietest of the three, but he was sporting ice blue eyes, my eyes.

My daughter, Celeste, already had a shock of red hair sprouting from her head, whilst the two boys remained bald, we were still wondering what their hair colours would be.

I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around me, and pull me close. Maxon wrested his chin on my shoulder and leant his head against mine.

"Hello my Darling," he kissed my hair, he looked down at the babies and smiled, "Hello my dears." We stood there, gazing at our beautiful children. Our children. That would never get old, I was a mother, and Maxon was a father. I couldn't wait to see what the three babies lying before me would bring Maxon and me.

********

I straightened Shalom's tie for him, as he repeatability drew his hands through his already messy hair. It was almost funny to me how much he looked like his father, with one exception, his nose was longer than Maxons, and the exact colour and shape of his eyes was mine.

"There's no need to be nervous," I assured him, placing my hands on his shoulders, "believe me, these ladies have a lot more reason to be nervous tonight than you do."

He gulped and nodded.

"Five minutes!" Someone close to the cameras yelled.

"Go and sit down," I told my son, patting him on the shoulder, before releasing him so that he could go and sit down on the four seats set out for the royal family.

I stayed where I was stood, watching Shalom take his seat, and begin fiddling with his cufflinks.

"He's still very nervous isn't he," I turned to see Maxon stood beside me, following my gaze and looking at our son.

"I think he always will be," I replied.

"Well I remember by vividly almost throwing up before the names of my selected were revealed," Maxon mused.

I rolled my eyes and laughed.

At that moment, another person entered the studio.

"Ah, AJ!" Maxon clapped our other son on the back, "so good that you could join us!"

"I'm not late," Aspen insisted, still tying up his tie as he spoke, "I still have ages before we go on air."

"Four minutes!" The person beside the camera yelled.

"See, I have four whole minutes!" Aspen grinned.

"Well, he does have four minutes," I agreed.

"You two are impossible," Maxon wrung his hands, "you're made from the same mould if ever anyone was."

"Go and sit down AJ," I told him. Aspen pecked me on the cheek, and then hurried off to take his seat beside his brother.

Maxon's hand slid into mine, and I felt him sigh. I knew exactly what he was thinking. There was something missing, a big important thing. No matter how much I loved my two sons, moments like this simply reminded me of all that we had lost.

"C'mon, let's sit down," I guided him over to two remaining seats beside our boys.

"Oh, Shal you're going to rip those off!" I told Shalom, who was close to ripping the cufflinks off of his shirt.

"Really Shal, there's nothing to be nervous about. It's just a list of names," Maxon reached over and patted Shalom's arm reassuringly.

"One minute!" The person beside the camera yelled.

Aspen patted his brother on the shoulder too, "don't worry, we're both in the same boat here, you can throw up on me if you want to."

This made Shalom laugh, a skill that Aspen, and only Aspen, had perfected over the years.

"Thirty Seconds!"

Gavril Faradaye walked onto the set and took his place at the centre of the stage. He shot us a winning smile, and Maxon returned it, along with a thumbs up.

"3, 2, 1!" The national anthem played, and then all of the screens around the room showed our faces on them.

"Good evening Illea!" Gavril said, flashing his smile at the camera, "tonight we have a very special report. All over the country, young women have been entering their names into the selection, in hopes that they will be one of the 70 selected to come to the palace and win the heart of one of our young princes. Yesterday Prince Shalom and Prince Aspen drew the names at random, but they have yet to see them and will meet these ladies in a few moments with the rest of the country. But first, I think it's only prudent that we allow our wonderful King and Queen to voice their opinions and give some last-minute advice to those ladies chosen for the Selection." Gavril made his way over to us, and turned to Maxon, "any advice for the princes your majesty?"

Maxon smiled, and turned to look at the boys, "don't hold any expectations for these ladies, because all of them will surprise you in ways you can't even imagine."

"Wise words," Gavril agreed, "what words of advice do you have for the ladies Queen America?" Gavril asked me.

"Don't see the other ladies as rivals," I said, after a moments thought, "in the end, it comes down to what the Princes want, you may think that you can change their minds, but men are unbelievably stubborn. Make friends, enjoy your time here, and brace yourself, because everything is about to change."

"Thank you," Gavril smiled, he turned back to the camera, "Now without further ado, let's see the footage of the name drawings from yesterday."

All four of us had been present, along with the royal household, which included the Woodworks and the Ledgers. The report showed a two-minute highlight video of the drawing. There were clips of me and Maxon holding hands, and smiling at our sons, Maxon had whispered something in my ear, and I nodded and laughed. Aspen nudged Shalom, and the two laughed. The editing made us all look excited and happy, which of course we were, but it failed to capture the haunted moments where Maxon and I remembered what was missing.

The clip drew to an end, and Gavril reappeared on the screen, he drew a scroll in front of him, "and now, the names of the 70 women of the selection. From Angeles, Miss Celia Gardener," a picture of a beautiful redhead girl filled the screen, in the corner there was a box that showed Aspen and Shalom, in it, I saw Aspen nudge Shalom, "Also from Angeles, Miss Amelia Woodwork."

I blinked, and looked at Maxon, making sure that I had heard it correctly. But he looked just as surprised as I had, there on the screen was a picture of my goddaughter, Marlee and Carter's only child Amelia.

Welcome to my fanfiction of The Selection by Kiera Cass. In case you didn't realise, the characters from The Selection such as America, Maxon, Aspen etc do not belong to me, they belong to Kiera Cass. This book is an alternative sequel to the one (so The Heir and The Crown never happened).
As stated in the description I took inspiration for this book from @maxerica_lives 's books Peanut Butter Fingerprints and the Nevermore Princess.
Anyway, I hope that you all like this book and enjoy the story that I have created.
Remember to vote, comment and be amazing!
~Em xx