Four Days Later: The Party

Maxon ran his fingers through my hair, my head lulling back into the plush pillows on our bed. "The party," I murmured. I rolled onto my side and faced Maxon. It took a second for my eyes to de-blur and then my husband slowly came into focus. I stroked his scratchy cheek and he closed his eyes and leaned into my touch.

"I don't want to go," he complained. I giggled.

"Silvia will kill you if you don't."

"Not if she can't find me," he smirked. I kissed the smirk off his face, to which he gladly responded.

"We have to go, Maxon. We can't be late. I've spent so much time preparing this."

"What do I get for going?" I rolled my eyes.

"For one, you get to meet the happy people of our country. And for a second reason, after this, we're planning our honeymoon."

"Okay okay," he grumbled. "I'll get up... Planning only," he muttered. I giggled again as I left to get ready for the party.

***

Birds chirped as I made my way outside. The grass was greener than before, some of the patches "magically" gone. White tents stood tall, exactly four: 1 for dessert, 2 rowed together for a buffet style lunch, and 1 afternoon tea tent. The dessert and tea were both on my left while the food stations were on my right. In the center, twenty-something tall tables with balloons attached to the tops stood, their white cloths swaying in rhythm with the wind.  A netted material hung from the tops of the four tents, not really preventing the sunlight from coming in, but for the look. "Oh Silvia! It's beautiful!" I gushed as I took in the party, about 30 minutes until our guests would start arriving.

"Thank you, my queen," she smiled. I turned around to face her when Maxon caught my eye. His hands were in his pockets, an evil squint in his eyes and a small grin on his mouth. He was wearing white pants and a white dress-shirt with a sliver suit-jacket draped over his shoulder. He looked like some sort of casual angel. As he slowly paced towards me, I got impatient and huffed. I walked towards him, stopping inches away from him. "What?" I demanded.

"It look's wonderful." The corner of his lips turned up. He raked his eyes up and down my body before meeting my eyes again. "As do you."

"What was that?" I remarked.

"What was what?" He innocently asked, his eyebrows shooting up and a smile plaguing his face. I wrapped my hands around his waist and leaned my head on his chest.

"Do you like it? The party, I mean." I glanced up at him when he didn't answer. He wore a look of amazement, pure shock.

"This is our first party, America. Look at its s beauty." I glanced around.

"Yeah, so?"

"This is the one where it's okay to mess up. And yet you didn't. I can't wait for the other parties." I blushed and looked down.

"Thanks."

"America!" Silvia called after me. "We need you here! The guests will be coming soon." I deeply inhaled and tried to let out the jitters in my stomach through my breaths.

"Coming!" I yelled back. I faced Maxon one more time and kissed him on the cheek. "You look extremely handsome, my king." He blushed a little-- something I still wasn't used to from him-- before kissing my cheek and leaving the garden to go do something with his royal self.

I walked to where Silvia was and looked at what she was looking at. "Oh, it's all wrong," she muttered as she looked at the flower arrangement.

"What is? It looks fine to me," I honestly said.

"These aren't the flowers-- really?" Silvia squinted her eyes, trying to figure out whether I was being nice about it or if I just forgot what I had ordered. It was the latter, I totally forgot what the flowers looked like. As long as they somewhat matched the theme, I was totally okay with it. I told her just that.

"Okay, so, before the party starts, I'm going to go freshen up. Is there anything else I need to do?"

"Nope. It's all set."

"Perfect!" I beamed. I made my way back inside, rushing to the Women's Room to fix anything wrong with my outfit.

When I finally reached the room, I opened the door and raced to the bathroom. The bathroom was a golden color, extremely historic and kind of a gold-ish Victorian theme. Random tassels hung on the edges of golden and white curtains, giving an ancient royal feeling. I walked up the bathroom mirror, also plated with gold, and stared myself down.

I was wearing a lot of powder on my face with a tan powder line streaked on my cheekbone to make me look more "angular and regal". I had orange and brown eyeshadow lightly dusted on my eyelids, professionally done by one of my maids. And finally, my dress and hat were what made me stand out. My dress was a simple white tea dress that reached my knees, a giant silver belt around my middle. My hat was a white sun hat with a fabric sticking out from the side. The fabric gave my outfit a refined and classic style.

Once I was done admiring myself in the mirror, and pointing out the many faults (moles, freckles, etc.) I had, I decided I had already shown my face to Maxon and Silvia, so what did it matter that my face was going to be seen by everyone else?

Apparently, it mattered very much. As I got closer to the party, I felt more insecure and jittery about the way I looked. What if someone doesn't think I'm ready to be Queen? What if what if what if? I started hyperventilating before I even reached the garden doors. What if no one comes? What if they didn't get invitations?

I only stopped freaking out when I felt a very Maxon-like hand grab my waist and pull me into their arms.

"America," he breathed into my ear as we walked outside to the parties location. "Stop. Freaking. Out." I vigorously nodded, closing my eyes in the process. "And this isn't even your first party! Remember?"

"Yes." I smiled at the memory. I leaned into his touch about to turn around and plant a kiss on his lips when I heard a shriek from the hallway.

"Ahhhh! America!" I turned around to find Princess Nicoletta-- the future Queen of Italy-- speed-walking in her stilettos. I dropped Maxon's hands from around me and met Nicoletta in the middle of the hallway. We embraced each other and jumped a little. The last time I saw her was at the wedding.

"I hope you enjoy the party!" I said.

Her smile faltered. "Really?"

"What?" I asked.

"You treat me as any other guest?" She shook her head in mock disappointment. 

"Well," Maxon said, wrapping his right arm around my waist again. "Maybe, you aren't special, so--"

"Maxon!" I interrupted. Nicoletta rolled her eyes before curtsying to Maxon. When she stood straight again, I said, "Don't worry Nicoletta, you're special." I caught sight of her parents arm in arm walking down the hallway. "And so are your parents!" I curtsied to each of them as they came closer. Nicoletta's father kissed my hand.

Maxon gestured to the glass doors leading to the party. "Shall we go?"

"We shall." I looped my arm through his and we walked to the garden. I pecked his cheek as we walked past the guards and entered the party. I practically gasped when I took in my surroundings.

The party was just how I pictured it! The tents were filled with servants passing food onto the plates of other royal families, mingling, laughing, ultimately having a good time. Children were running around, tagging each other, and popping out of the most ridiculous places to scare their friends.

In accordance with the invitations, the guests understood the theme was white and silver. Most, like myself, wore white. Nicoletta, being the long-legged, brunette, honey-skinned, beauty she was, decided to stand out even more by wearing a silver floor length dress. I inwardly sighed at her abundance of curves and her beauty. Even though we were friends, I couldn't help but be a little competitive with her. So far, this was the score:

Nicoletta: 3

Beauty

No duties of Queen

Beauty (Yes, yes it is written twice. If only you could see.)

America: 2

Maxon

I'm Queen! Hah!

"Queen America!" A little girl yelled. I turned to find her run up to me. I bent down to her height.

"Yes?"

"You're very beau...beau...tiful."

"Awww!" I gushed. "Thank you, sweetie!" The girl blushed and looked down. I gave her a kiss on the forehead. Hopefully my lipstick didn't leave any marks on her forehead. I stood up as she ran away and took in the rest of the party.

Maxon was across the party talking with other young women and nobleman wives, having a good time. As he delivered the punch line of a joke, he leaned forward to the women, who also inclined towards him. When the joke was delivered, finished, they threw their heads back as he squinted his eyes and grinned, clearly enjoying making the ladies laugh. Although, I did catch him he scan the crowd for someone-- me, I think.  Time for me to swoop in.

I walked towards him, smiling. When I made it to him, I looped my arm around his waist, leaning my head on his shoulder while doing so.

"America!" Some 20-something year old women, who I didn't remember the name of (I'd ask Silvia later), yelled. "Your husband just told us the funniest joke! What a charmer he is!"

Maxon blushed a little and that made me remember. The other night Maxon was talking to me as we lounged on his bed.

"I love you, America. I love every single part of you..." And eventually that led to me getting closer and an intense make out session following that. As Maxon had grabbed my waist that night, I blushed in happiness and I guess embarrassment. He opened his eyes at that moment and placed his hand under my chin. "Why are you blushing?" He murmured.

"Um... Because I can't stop?" That made me blush even more.

"I've had to deal with awkward questions my whole life-- teaching me not to blush and also to blush on command when needed." I rolled my eyes.

"I doubt it--." I looked in shock as he blushed, the red blooming on his cheeks. "You can control it completely?"

It took about 20 seconds, but the blush went away. "Yes, my dear." And so he taught me, because I desperately needed to master the art of not-blushing. Or at least he tried to teach me.

I stepped out of my recollection of that night when Maxon kissed my cheek. We definitely were a little more touchy that day then usual.

"Well, my dear." Maxon looked at me, his head cocked to the side. "We really must get going. To mingle and meet other guests."

Maxon intertwined his fingers with mine and we set out. We grabbed the food from the buffet, because Maxon was "on the brink of starvation". When he said that, I got an idea.

"Maxon, my dear?" I asked him.

"Why don't you make a speech?"

"Uh.." Maxon looked around. "Okay," he gave in. I told the nearest servant to grab a microphone and we waited patiently as a speaker was set up. When everything was ready, Maxon cleared his throat. "Everyone, may I please have your attention." Everyone looked up, pausing their conversations, and slowly made their way to Maxon. "I want to forewarn you, I am making this up as I go. I usually spend hours thinking of metaphors and a good speech, so this is new for me." The crowd chuckled a little. I patted Maxon's arm. "It's been 200 years since my great-grandfather started the caste system. I'm extremely proud to say that our country has escaped from the cage we were locked in. I hope to see painters, that wanted to be doctors, become doctors. I hope to see new sport players out on the fields of our country, finally able to let go of their worries of being caught and do what they want to do. I hope to see people get married with each other, regardless of a-- quite frankly-- a stupid number. " The crowd chuckled. "Finally, please raise your glasses to the evolution of our country!

"We are finally free from our chains! Goodbye ranks! Hello freedom!"

***

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