Treyan once told her that it felt as though the Prophecy itself controlled the very essence of time within the Empire, and those words resounded through her more fiercely than ever as Alex regained her footing after the wedding. It was almost as though it aimed to accommodate those who needed it the most, and none needed it more than she.

Never one to let an ailment hold her back, Alex continued with her duties as the Queen Empress to the best of her abilities, and no one tried to tell her otherwise. She had come back from the dead, after all. She might be immortal for all they knew.

The main focus after the wedding's intrusion was the Borderlands.

Reylor hadn't once attempted to infiltrate Alex's dreams, but often she wondered if it was because of Treyan's proximity, or from the little training she had to erect mental shields to keep him out. Knowing well it was most likely the former, she still made an effort to strengthen her own potential, now that she was both Queen Empress and wife to the Crown Prince.

Even so, shields were cast around the palace for added magical protection. When Alex asked Treyan where such power came from, he informed her that Reylor wasn't the only one who could have mages under his employ but didn't divulge more information than that. She wondered where they had been, why they hadn't been put to use until now, but decided another time would be better for such questions.

It still remained unknown how Reylor was able to infiltrate the palace on the night of the coronation. The guards on duty insisted they maintained their positions, but all agreed that something else was at play—magic, poison—but how it would have been administered without being detected was the greater mystery.

Nevertheless, by decree of the Empire, they ordered barricades and barracks to be erected within every province, and insisted the lords enlist their bravest and strongest should the Empire be attacked. Neither Treyan or Alex kept the knowledge of Reylor's presence to themselves. After the incident at the wedding, they had no choice but to publicly declare him a threat to the Empire and proclaimed they would do all they could to assist in protecting their lands from the threat of the banished Lord Steward.

The patrols along the tree line brought back little news, and what they did deliver was nothing more than what was already expected. Reylor was sending scouts over the Borderlands, who, in turn, met the Empire's own border patrol. Every attempt to apprehend a minion was foiled, as they would slit their own throats before further interrogations could begin. Reylor was not playing games.

Neither were they.

Treyan ceased his travels between the palace and the northern villages. Both he and Alex agreed his place was within the Empire. Something needed to be done, and they would no longer sit around, waiting for Reylor's next attack.

Their first task was mapping the Borderlands, but as Treyan had never been there, and Alex's memories of her trek were vague at best, they had to resort to the history books. All they could find within the palace's library, however, were maps drawn prior to the ancient war. But once that had ended the record of the Empire ended at the tree line—the Borderlands were forbidden territory for the last two thousand years. Without a map, there was no way to strategize an army's advance. They spent countless hours analyzing how they could possibly obtain the upper hand.

This was no longer just about vengeance.

This was war.

The funeral pyre for Mallia was held as soon as Alex was strong enough to see over it herself. As Empress, and as a friend, she felt it was her place to make sure the murdered Mistress was sent off properly for her loyal service. She owed it to Jamison and their young son, who found a place in Alex's heart as she considered her own unborn twins, and her chest tightened at the thought of ever having to raise them alone.

It was still undetermined how Mallia had been taken. The Councillor conducted an in-depth investigation, questioning everyone who may have come in contact with the Mistress on the day of the wedding, or possibly seen something that suggested what had happened. Alex, the other two Mistresses, Treyan, even Jamison—all were questioned, but they were still no closer to an answer.

Alex refused to let guilt consume her. Fearful for the safety of the rest of her Mistresses, she attempted to fully release them from their service. Drew seemed more than happy to leave the palace, commenting that there was nowhere safe anymore, and barely said her farewells before she was packed up and returning home to her village in the west.

Bria, however, seemed more reluctant to leave. It was Alex's understanding that she had no family, no other source of income, but Alex would not allow another death to be on her hands, so she gave Bria a brief sabbatical with a stipend that would support her until her services were again needed.

Of course, the Councillor was insistent that allowing them to leave was against protocol and tradition, that the Empress always had her Mistresses should she ever need anything, but Alex reminded him that, in the end, this was Reylor's doing—not hers—and she would see to it that he would pay dearly for every damn change in their traditions.

As Alex came back to the normal course of daily life, she did so with Treyan at her side. She owed it to him, and to herself, to try her best to move forward, and Saratanya's final words remained with her as the days carried on.

Forgiveness, however, would be for another day.

He had apologized for what he had suggested about terminating the pregnancy, but that it was even a thought in his mind was not forgotten.

He said that even though the Councillor forbade it, he was still entered the north to attempt to retrieve her from the Borderlands. But that was weeks later.

She could allow herself to look at the faults in what he had done in the past or continue to try to focus on the future.

Perhaps he knew that as well.

Treyan was cautious whenever he was around her and allowed Alex any additional time and space she would need to heal. Even he knew regardless of how well she appeared on the outside, there were still wounds that needed mending on the inside. The road to recovery would be hers to walk, but she knew he would be there whenever she needed him, whatever the outcome.

The twins were beginning to make Alex physically uncomfortable, and she soon found her favorite time of day was when the royal obligations had come to an end, she and Treyan had exhausted the day's researching resources, and she could retire to her room to put up her feet.

She just finished changing into her thin sleeping gown, the pregnancy leaving her feeling like a walking furnace, when a knock came at the door. Assuming it was one of the palace's servants checking on her dinner plate, she bid them to enter while she tied her loose hair up into a bun.

Instead, Treyan stuck his head through the door, his eyes scanning the room for her. She stopped mid-tie when she saw him. He hadn't called on her once since the wedding, wanting to give her the space she requested so long ago. She realized she never told him otherwise and hadn't found the opportunity with all that happened to bring it up. Seeing him made her heart pound in her chest, but she couldn't get the words out upon his entrance.

He seemed to have come with a purpose and smiled slightly at seeing her.

"I'm sorry if this is a bad time..."

"No," she assured him, bringing her arms down and subconsciously crossing them over her bosom. "It's fine. What's going on?"

"I just wanted to remind you about tomorrow morning. The Council is going to want an update of our progress if we're to expect any resources from the outlying villages."

She nodded. "Of course, I should have put the report with the books." She began walking over to the pile on her sitting table.

"It's okay." He smiled at her enthusiasm. "We can go over it in the morning."

"Oh, okay." She stood there, feeling awkward before the man who was supposed to be her husband.

His smile remained, however, and he bowed his head. "Good night, Empress."

He took his head out of the door and almost shut it before she could let out the "Wait!" she didn't expect coming. Neither did he, for it was his turn to have a look of surprise upon his face with eyes wide.

"This is stupid, Treyan," Alex declared as she began walking toward the door. She took the handle in her hand and opened it wide. "Come in."

"Alex, I don't know if that's a good idea," he stammered.

"This has been going on for far too long. Come in, if only to talk?"

Treyan looked at her, head cocked to the side.

"Please?" she asked again.

Letting out a breath, he nodded. "As you wish. We can talk for the moment, but you need your rest."

He walked past her, and she noticed he was still in the day's clothes. She suddenly felt incredibly underdressed and put on the robe from the end of her bed while he took a seat in the nearby chair.

She couldn't sit herself, she realized as she began pacing across the room. What was she going to say? What could she say? I'm sorry for completely blowing you off because I couldn't handle my own shit?

Treyan gave her all the time she needed while he watched her move about. A part of her wished he would say something, and another part hoped he would have denied her request for an audience in the first place. Her heart was pounding, and as though in retaliation, the babies began to battle against the confines of their prison.

"Oh, you two are not helping," she muttered down to her stomach while her hands met the internal pressure.

"What's that?" he asked, and she turned to him.

She couldn't help but smile. "They don't like me being very active these days."

"All the more reason for you to relax. Come, sit?" He motioned to the chair opposite him.

With no other excuse, Alex took the seat across from Treyan.

"Treyan, I—" she began, but he cut her off.

"Alex, let me," he insisted, and she was pleased to hear him speak.

His hair was out of its binding, and she loved the way he ran his hands through it whenever he had thoughts he needed to gather. She knew he caught her staring and smiled with slight embarrassment.

"I owe you a lot of answers. And I don't know if they're going to be good ones, but please let me try."

She watched him and nodded.

"I should have come to you sooner. I know I should have—and I tried. I had Jamison and ten guards ready to travel to the Borderlands the day you were taken, but the Councillor barred our way with his own battalion. He threatened us, Alex. He said if there was anyone who dared to travel north, they'd be banished, or worse. They believed him—even Jamison."

"But you didn't?"

Treyan shook his head. "I don't know, and I swore no matter what I did, it was as though he was watching me. Finally, I had had enough, and convinced Jamison to come with me to the northern village. I think he knew what I had in mind, but the Councillor couldn't deny me the rebuilding efforts. That's where we were when you crossed over."

"You really would have come? You would have invaded the Borderlands and stormed the castle?"

His azure stare held hers as he said, "We were going to come that night. The only thing that stopped us was you."

Alex had to wonder if Reylor had known—if that was the reason he decided to let her go when he did. That he knew he wouldn't have survived the attack should the Empire invade the Borderlands, and instead decided to give them back what they wanted.

"And the babies," he went on, looking away, "that was my own desperation."

"Why?" she asked quietly, holding herself a little tighter.

"Because I didn't know what to do," he admitted. "I still don't. All the Councillor could tell me is that whatever happened was a dark curse—a magical infiltration that is somehow, some way, affecting my children. And we won't know the true effects until they're born, so I thought—"

"You thought that if you could keep them from being born, whatever Reylor may have cast would be undone."

He nodded once.

"What Reylor did goes beyond these children," she whispered.

"I'm not trying to belittle what happened to you, Alex."

She knew that. Physical or not, there was still a violation of her body that happened without her consent. He had still taken her from her bed, held her as a prisoner...

She shuddered, and Treyan looked to her with concern in his eyes.

"I'm not going to ask you to tell me anything you don't want to tell me, but I want you to know that whenever you are ready, I am here. And I won't be anywhere else, I promise."

She bit her lip and realized she was easier to read than she thought. The details of what happened to her while in the Borderlands still remained a mystery to all except her, though she wasn't able to deny the knowledge about the dark magic.

"I'm not going to ask to return to your bed," he continued. "I will ask nothing of you that will make you uneasy. But you are my wife, and I am your husband, and it shall remain as such until the suns set on our last days, regardless of how many remain."

"Don't talk like that!"

He shrugged. "You should know better than I. You are the one who has come the closest."

She looked away from him. She didn't enjoy thinking about the wedding, which was bittersweet in so many ways. She still refrained from explaining the extent of the conversation she had with his mother, save for the placement of the burn mark on her forehead. But he was right—their days were numbered. One or one thousand, neither of them knew for sure, especially with each new threat from the Borderlands.

"Stay with me," she blurted out.

"What?"

"You're right," she conceded. "The days are too short, and the nights are too long."

"I'm not telling you this to make you do something you're not ready to do."

"And I'm not saying we're going to do anything," she countered. "Unless I should be concerned about you threatening my well-being?" She perked her eyebrow.

"Never," he assured her, his tone serious. He leaned over and took her hands in his while his blue eyes pierced her, as though trying to look into her very soul. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"No." She smiled. "But it's time. And I miss you stealing the blankets."

Treyan snorted at her attempted humor. "As the Empress wishes." He stood and helped her from the chair, her hands still in his. "I've a few more items to attend before I retire, but I will return."

"You better," she threatened playfully.

He leaned over as though to give her a kiss, but hesitated at her lips, and instead pecked her cheek. He left the room silently, closing the door behind him, while an uncertain Empress watched him leave.

Treyan was more than happy to abide by Alex's wishes, and did all he could to keep from skipping down the palace hallways. Just being able to sleep in the same bed with her again was more than enough for him, and he would give her all the time in the world to thank her for it.