Liam knew something was not right.

Mornings were just dreadful anyhow. Things he could perfectly do on his own, like combing his hair, pinning his cloak and strapping his belt being done by a legion of mute men. And at their head was the annoying valet who smiled charmingly and wouldn't leave his side at any cost. The very first time Liam had been back from the Drill, the dreaded military training institute: he'd been a complete mess. Or so it had seemed to Atreus - the newly appointed valet, only a couple of years older to him. For about an hour, he had lectured Liam on the delicacy of "fashion". If in the midst of his drone, Liam had reached for his sword hilt, Atreus had just clicked his tongue and said the gesture was manly but too aggressive to be fashionable. After Alexandra's explanation of Mileva's nature, he had been convinced that the two would form an excellently fashionable pair.

Now, after half a century, Atreus had lost two of his teeth (and had the gaps filled with fashionable gold), but he hadn't lost his inclination to groom. Even today, he had tired to bore the life out of Liam with his monologue of "one hundred and sixty three ways to fasten a cloak". And while usually he listened politely, this morning was peculiar. Liam had experienced this restlessness only once before and he had met Alexandra that day.

He was sometimes tempted to wonder who had named him.

The realization oddly amused him: why would anybody have bothered to name him? Despite all that, he liked that name - because it linked him with Alexandra in an unique way. Liam meant "a powerful warrior, a protector". He didn't know if it was a co-incidence or not, that Alexandra meant "one who comes to protect warriors".

He just liked to believe that it was not a co-incidence.

Setting names apart - right now - he knew that the persisting disquiet was not because of any of his frequent nightmares - a few horrid childhood scenes revisiting him. This time, it had something to do with Ophelia. On grounds of morality, they had decided to leave her alone. And though there was usually a week's gap between two of his talks with her, he felt uneasy. Liam wouldn't have waited so long - he trusted his intuition. He would have gone ahead and checked for himself; but a father entering his young daughter's chambers was not considered something very "permitted". That was just as well, he could simply ask Alexandra to do it.

Alexandra. Alexandra. Alexandra.

Sometimes, Liam was himself surprised by the way she appeared in his mind, no matter what he was thinking about. The very first time he'd seen her - he had been on his way to the Cartanian coronation: the reigning Vedessan monarch would have to, in person, acknowledge their new King. Since riding with an entourage had never appealed, he had let them move ahead, preferring his own, leisure pace.

He had been pondering upon the best way to win Doveland's support: his rejection of their eldest princess without even a reason, was bound to have antagonized them. And as far as Liam had known, the Ethorian Queen had been visiting them at the time. The Espionage had informed him that ten to one Doveland and Ethoris would collaborate very soon.

He had feared Sabel ever since Ariston had told him of the way they were connected. Ethorians had been giving him trouble, anyhow. The previous year, their armies had infiltrated common Vedessans - settling down in their midst in an attempt to stir up a civil war. It was good they hadn't been well-prepared. The moment they had opened their mouths, the thick Ethorian accent had come tumbling down and identified them as intruders.

He could give the Dovish anything other than marriage - but that they wouldn't accept. Then, they had been on the verge of joining hands with Ethoris. It would have complicated so many things...

Liam had shook his head sourly: his great father had left him quite a few assets. First there had been the battalion of half brothers and sisters - from his various mistresses. None could contend for the throne, thankfully, both because of Cassandra's condition and the fact that Ethan hadn't married any of their mothers. Those various women, all claiming that they were good as his "mothers". Liam was human, not a sloth. He had known those women were waiting to snatch off portions of the empire. The ministers had advised him to call all of them for a feast and poison their wines. It was a lucrative offer, but he had known that wouldn't necessary.

After returning from sorting out Wilverton, a small, rich-in-resources state that was under anarchy, he had formally met his fifty two "mothers" - all with children who could grow up to demand parts of Vedessa. Without beating around the bush, he had told them to get out - and get lost. Preferably with their children.

Of course, they hadn't heeded at once. 'We are your mothers, Liam. Even if we were not wedded to the late King.'

Nothing had made him angrier. From Ethan they had already extracted jewels and gifts worth half the treasury from him. Each one of them had, at some point of time, pestered Ethan to give up his vow to Cassandra of only her son being the king. He had refused, but Liam had known it was utter foolishness to believe his father's conscience. The reason he had made complete arrangements to seize power, in case the need arose.

And then, the shameless women had insisted on being his mothers.

'Sir.' He had corrected, 'not Liam, Sir. And I give you all twelve hours' lease. Either find a way to wed the late King, or be gone. And yes - I almost forgot, don't be seen in Vedessa after tonight.'

Their twisted faces had been almost funny to watch. 'You are exiling us.' The prettiest one, and clearly the Head, had noted.

'If harsh terms is what you want,' he had replied, smiling good-naturedly, 'then no. I am not exiling. I am banishing you all.'

It had been enough to drive them away. In a bit of a heat, he had announced having extra marital affairs as a crime. Citizens had been slightly revolted. But who could openly protest? Divorce was very much legal - they could always go for it.

Then there had been places like Vellesmere. Left to rot and crumble. While working on them, he had become acquainted with the Espionage Council. They were nothing like he had imagined - friendlier and loyal to fault. And they didn't mind Kings. Whether it was a beggar or an emperor, they would speak to him in the same manner. He had honestly been impressed when a particularly experienced Agent had asked him to "put a gram of foresight into his Kingly head".

It was amid that thick musing that he had spotted Alexandra. First Liam had been shocked, then suspicious. Finally, he had got off the horse - deciding that the unusual scene deserved a check. Entering the shade of the sprawling beech tree and having a good look at Alexandra, he had nodded to himself and let drop an almost involuntary statement: 'alright, she is pretty.'

Then he had seen the glinting ring on her finger with the emblem of a dove with outspread wings. For five whole minutes, he had been dumbstruck. He had known there were three Dovish princesses and he had known very well that the girl was not Olivia.

Finally, when he had learnt of the entire story, Liam couldn't have been more stunned. The girl sitting in front of him had accomplished the seeming impossible. She had utterly destroyed all hopes for an Ethoris-Dovish alliance. And in doing so, she hadn't even realized how much of a favor she'd done to the entire Vedessa. Especially to him - taken off, with a single slap of hers, almost all the weight on his shoulders. And she already had an enmity with the Ethorian Queen. An enemy's enemy was a natural friend. But how could he have said that to Alexandra, when she wondered why he was taking such a special interest in her. And by the time he could say it - the fact no longer mattered. 

But sending her to the Espionage council had had more to it:

1) Liam definitely had to keep an eye on an exiled princess - he couldn't possibly keep her in the Palace, so - he had taken a leaf out of his cunning mother's book and sent her to the Espionage. They could keep a much tighter watch on her.

2) Liam knew the Espionage Council housed the best men of Idgard (excluding him...) and if not immediately accept, they would at least respect Alexandra.

3) Liam really hadn't seen such a woman ever. It would be an utter shame to waste the talent and caliber of someone like Alexandra.

4) The truest reason was that suggesting Alexandra to the Espionage had been a simple experiment. Liam hadn't anticipated it to work out so well. He had been ready to console Alexandra that not fitting in with spies was quite natural - ready to tell her how there were plenty of other useful things she could do. But he had been astonished at the way she had blended in. Alexandra had a peculiar luck - just to imagine that someone like Mark had found her ... That he had known every bit of her true identity and accepted her with all those lies. Hadn't he just clarified that the Espionage consisted of the finest men of Idgard? It was true.

'...and finally, you turn the cloak over you, to reveal the best way of fastening a cloak that had ever been invented!' Atreus finished, his voice sounding distant, yet impressive. He had no idea how boring he was. How much Liam would have loved to have him deported.

'Your knowledge is extensive, Atreus.' He praised, despite not having heard a single word of his. He was mildly surprised that the man had spoken so much in the past ten minutes. Pretending was mandatory - Liam knew Atreus, even with his slight frame and six-inch-long hair, was best kept in a good mood.

'Oh it is nothing,' he shook off, smugly. He then opened his mouth to continue, but his eyes fell on the doorway of the chamber, as the gates swung open. And his smile melted away.

Alexandra.

Followed by about six attendants whom she waved away, somewhat hastily.

She was not very formally dressed, her waist length hair was carelessly scattered, a tendril or two hanging blithely. With her presence, even the gloomy dressing room with all the mute attendants seemed to light up cheerfully. She smiled brightly to the men around her and they dropped their work to return her greeting. Stopping in front of Liam, she put her hands on his shoulders, stood on her tiptoes and pecked him on the lips. Her lips were raw and tender - as usual, Liam surmised, she'd been biting them.

'An early morning stop,' he nodded to Alexandra. It was not unusual, perhaps just one of the lucky days when she had decided to abandon inertia. 'There must be plenty of reasons.'

'Not exactly plenty,' she sang, tousling his hair. 'Just felt like you would be missing me. And this another tiniest of things.'

'It takes eighteen minutes to set them, Your Highness.' Atreus mentioned, sounding nettled. For a minute, Liam didn't realize what he was talking about - he had almost forgotten that Atreus was present. Then he remembered the man's immense love for precise style. Apparently, he had foreseen that act of Alexandra's.

'Why do I care?' Alexandra muttered under her breath, looking like her oldest, amusingly snobbish self. But then she made a perfect, apologetic face - 'my humble apologies, Mr. Denvorl,' she told him, really sounding contrite.

'I don't mind, Atreus.' Liam shook his head - hopefully he would leave them alone. Would it really matter if everybody saw him with a little unkept hair?

'But it isn't in manner!' He protested.

'Atreus.' Liam repeated, just a shade sterner.

'Fine!' He relented, clearly stung. 'Good day to you both.' And he gave something that looked like a bow, turned his heel and marched off. Even with his policy of no-antagonizing, Liam knew he couldn't bear being told, "Go marry Atreus!" the whole day by an enraged Alexandra. On top of everything else, her comments were funny - but laughing had grave consequences.

'Interesting,' she nodded, for now, her face shining with delectation. 'Has he ever met Mileva?'

Liam shook his head, grinning. 'I thought about it, but then I realized they had more than a quarter century age gap.'

'Right,' she smirked. 'Here's another case of more than a quarter century age gap.' She told him, waving a thick, shiny, yellow envelope. Liam groaned at the very sight of it.

A proposal.

Another proposal. Maybe of a princess who was in her thirties - either they had a very bad sense of humor, or they were just born brainless.

'What will make them believe that I am sold out?' He asked, 'at this age, should I plan my children's weddings or indulge in my own?' 

'That's why I tell you!' Alexandra pressed, as if she was a medic prescribing drugs. 'Show signs of old age! Get two or three joint pains, wrinkle up and let your hair go pale. Then you'll see the changes. Now first tell me - is it a "no" or a "yes"?'

Liam rolled his eyes. Maybe, this was Alexandra's way of finding enjoyment amid the monotonous everyday routine. He wondered if saying "yes", just to annoy her, would be worth it.

Ophelia.

Fine, he didn't have time for pleasure and games. 'Show it,' he asked, taking the envelope from Alexandra. Its surface was still warm from her grasp. He looked at it once - the very same golden borders, the very same red seal as they had been, on the first proposal he had got. Olivia's. And he had made the mistake of opening it. This time, he held the paper from both ends and simply tore it from the middle. 'It is a big, fat NO.' He said, tearing it into fours and tossing it into the hearth's roaring fire.

'You could have replied to it, at least!' Alexandra protested, frowning. 

She did have a point. If word got out that he had supposedly torn up the official marriage proposal and then burnt it - whichever kingdom the offer was from, would have to wage war on them - as in retribution for the "insult".

Royalty was just too complicated.

'In some cases, no reply is the best reply.' He nevertheless enlightened, 'dearest Sister Olivia gave me the lesson.' He added. Alexandra gave a small laugh.

Liam was no longer at war with Olivia. He actually never had been... but that was irrelevant. When she had finally visited - there had been a small scandal with her stumbling across the famed black veil both he and Alexandra had agreed upon keeping as a souvenir. They hadn't cooked any lies - and Olivia's dumbstruck face saying "goodness, it was you!" to Alexandra, was etched across his memory. 

'Did you see Ophelia today?' He asked - Liam had wanted to do it casually, but the question came out as a barely understandable, "diyouseeliatoay?"

Alexandra didn't reply immediately - catching the hurried lilt. She tilted her head and stared at him for a while, mutely. 'No,' she finally said. 'But given the type she is, Lia would still be snoring - and maybe dreaming about Adam.' She added, with the slightest wink.

Liam completely ignored the joke. He couldn't have been surer - 'I am very sure she is not sleeping. I think - I think she is not even here. I feel it.' He said, in a single breath, shaking his head. Alexandra shook her head too, with a more tender, amused expression.

'It's nothing of that sort, Liam,' she consoled, 'you're feeling this way because of the last night's disagreement. She's more of the independent type. If not sleeping, she will be meandering aimlessly and wrangling with the walls.'

'No.' He pressed, 'I just know she isn't here, Alexandra. Trust me - check once.' Liam was surprised at how calm and sincere his voice sounded. Internally, he felt racked with doubt and worry. It was at once regrettable and useful that there was no connection between his voice and his heart. Those had been severed long ago.

'Fine - fine.' Alexandra obliged, raising her hands in a placating gesture. 'Fine, I'll find her.' She said, though from her voice it was clear that Alexandra still wasn't serious. That she still didn't believe anything was particularly wrong. That was fine, Liam hoped she was right. His claim was a little hard to believe anyhow. Everything had been fine until the last night. It sounded downright silly of him to wake up one fine morning and claim that she had vanished.

'Thank you,' he replied, 'please prove me wrong.'

Alexandra shook her head with a small smile, 'don't ask for the impossible.' And she left as silently as she had come, without waiting for a reply.

Liam turned away - what did Alexandra mean by that? 

But he had almost forgotten - she was a spy. Alexandra's statements were best left alone. And while he didn't mind being right all the time - just this once, Liam desperately wanted to be wrong.

* * *

It was taking longer than usual.

Alexandra had been gone for the last fifteen minutes - and now, every two seconds or so, Liam stole a glance at the entrance. And each time he saw it closed, he felt his hopes fall a fraction of degree farther.

'Alright, so today's schedule is-' Atreus began, in his low, arid tone.

'I know! I'm sorry.' Liam interjected, without thinking and turning to look at the door again.

Atreus frowned, 'why, Sir?'

'What?'

'What are you sorry for?'

'For the schedule.'

Atreus stared at him for a second, without blinking. He then set down the pad he'd been holding and put a hand to Liam's forehead, as if checking his temperature. 'Did you sleep last night?' He asked.

One general thing about the people one has known for a long while, is that lying to them is useless. 'Maybe.' Liam shrugged, finding the middle ground between truth and lie. If it was Alexandra, she would reply with "maybe not" and give a knowledgeable nod. But Atreus just shook his head, picking the pad back up. He was quite professional, one of the reasons he was so boring.

'So- today is a small routine. The schedule includes the usual hours of court from eight to-'

'Twelve thirty. Followed by an uninteresting lunch where everybody takes their drinks lightly and discusses offhand topics. I am expected to keep my mouth shut and not support anybody. We discuss foreign affairs after that - it is boring and important but the one time I dozed off, nobody noticed - so I can catch up on sleep through it. That meeting might last anywhere from thirty minutes to three days, which is why I can leave whenever I want to. The Florandes diplomat is still here but since Alexandra insists on dealing with her, I can go ahead and perish - er, I mean - relish. Relish my freedom.' Liam counted off, making up for the impractical apology he had given earlier.

But Atreus had the driest sense of humor Liam had ever come across. His face was fixed straight and his lips did not so much as quiver.

'Very good.' He praised, with a grim nod, as if he was at somebody's funeral.

'But this news is not good at all.' Alexandra announced.

'Finally!' Liam sighed, turning to the entrance where Alexandra stood framed in the doorway. But her appearance made him register her words.

Not good at all.

And this time, her robes were belted formally at the waist, her hair pulled back hastily. She turned, looked around once gravely and clapped her hands for attention, 'leave us alone.' She ordered.

Everybody obeyed, abandoning their work and filing out of the room. Everybody that was - other than Atreus and his young, zealous assistant.

Alexandra had the ability to speed up everything. The half asleep atmosphere of the chamber had already turned alert. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of them. 'Do I need to repeat myself?' She asked, as she walked into the room, unhurriedly.

'It is ten minutes to eight, Your Highness. We cannot leave,' Atreus' assistant explained. He was quite young, perhaps twenty five. Maybe that was the reason he didn't have much experience with Alexandra.

'Cannot leave,' she repeated calmly, stopping in front of him. 'If I request?' She prompted.

The assistant shook his head calmly. 

'Fine, then. I will just have to force you.' Alexandra shrugged and the second she had completed her sentence, she did something that Liam was very sure would have made Master George proud. She grabbed the assistant by his left shoulder and without batting an eyelid, lifted him right off his feet - releasing him carelessly behind her - with a single hand. A low crack resounded in the room for a second after the episode. Atreus would have approved. If anybody could have pulled that off so fashionably in long, trailing robes - it was Alexandra.

'The infirmary is waiting for you, Sir.' Alexandra informed him, without the slightest hint of satisfaction. In fact, her expression was sour and Liam already knew why. He just needed to find out the enormity of it.

Atreus took a step backwards, as the assistant lumbered out. Apparently, he didn't approve. And his face had paled, because if the young assistant had cracked a bone, the same drill on him could be fatal. This time he gave Alexandra a full, respectfully low bow. 'Please carry on, Your Highness - I will just - take leave. Hairstyles come and go. The emperor's all yours.' He added, and positively fled from the scene.

It could have been funny.

Alexandra waited for him to leave. She then exhaled, turning to Liam. 'In her chamber - Ophelia's not there.' She informed. 'In the Palace - she's not there. Till Muriel's Fountain -' Alexandra shook her head, 'not there. And that is the worst part.'

'She has never broken that rule before.' Liam completed. 'The city?'

'Spies say "no". My heart says "no".' Alexandra said, 'just to be sure I have sent people - but.' She stopped to shake her head, 'this is it.'

'Don't fly into a rant about "curse working" and "it's all my fault". Please.' Liam told her. It was mystifying enough without curses. How could a person with maximum security, vanish right in the middle of the night? His intuition had been nagging him, but now that Alexandra said it... Liam realized the gravity of it. 

The Heir - just gone. From the heart of the Palace, as if it was an everyday event. If somebody had as much access to private chambers, why hadn't his throat been slit already? And Ophelia vanishing - without any trail - especially when, for more than half the night, she had been wandering in a garden with Adam.

Adam Phillicks?

'Did you-' he began, but Alexandra cut him short. She looked back to being a Secret Agent. The attitude of "my problems? I'll handle. Your problems? I'll handle them too."

'Entrances are sealed.' She enlightened. 'I've summoned Adam Phillicks. And I've sent for my dearest brother - the senior-most Agent we have - Mark Fannel.'