Kara looked up at the sound of her cell door opening. Despite weeks of telling herself that she could remain impassive, the trickle of light coming down the stairs and sound of another human's voice pulled her gaze as surely as if pulled by a chain around her neck.

The soldier ignored her glare, and did not bother to recoil when she spat at his approaching leather boots. The man wore the same dark leather armor as the rest of the witch's retinue, emblazoned with white bone dust in swirling patterns marred only by the dark rust of dried blood. The witch's guard had seen combat, and recently. Had her platoon attempted a rescue? Were they nearby? Did any of them still live?

“The rebels,” Kara rasped, voice hoarse from misuse. “What news from the war?”

The man did not answer, but continued his slow inspection of her cell. He reached for her, and Kara recoiled, but he only gave each of her manacles a quick tug to make sure they were secure. Satisfied, he withdrew back to the cell door and gave a quick nod.

Darkness pooled out of darkness, an inky black deeper than any shadow in her cell. The shapeless mass writhed as though in anger, before solidifying into the Obsidian Queen. The woman towered above her, wreathed in a white gown that sparkled with an iridescent opal sheen as it caught the flickers of torchlight from the hallway. Raven hair, blending perfectly with the shadows she commanded, hung in perfect curls around the most beautiful face Kara had ever seen. Kara had never seen her in person this close, only through the scope of a sniper. The only mar on her beauty was a deep chasm of shattered bone and twisted flesh where her right eye had once been.

“Kara. The Last Falconer. We meet at last,” the witch said, her single eye gleaming. She had no iris, only inky black, and her painted lips curved into a welcoming grin.

“Witch,” Kara spat.

“Oh, no need to be so formal. Anyone who gets away with almost killing me may call me Leanne.” She drew one lacquered nail over the space above her cheek, and lowered her head in a mockery of deference.

“The Free Cities will never accept you,” Kara said. “You will never hold power here, the rebellion has spread beyond your ability to quell it. Give up now, and save yourself the trouble. You only have so many eyes, and the next assassin they send will not miss.”

The Queen sighed, and threw herself into the air at the back of Kara's cell with the same causal flourish as if retiring to a sofa. The darkness caught her, cradling her as she lounged, her dark eye never leaving Kara. “I might argue your definition of missing, if not your analysis of the state of the war. They, Kara Falconer? Has your time in my dungeons sundered your link to the rebels so quickly?”

Kara treated her to a rare smile. “The rebellion doesn't need me any longer. I have known for years that I would serve my people better as a martyr. Is that why you have graced my cell with your presence? The Archipeligae would accept my mysterious disappearance no sooner than they would accept you hanging my head from the ramparts.”

The Queen shrugged, that infuriating smile dancing from her lips. “Quite the dilemma you describe. What's a poor Queen to do?”

Kara gritted her teeth, her wrists twisting against her restraints. “You came her for a reason. What do you want from me?”

“Can I not visit my subjects to ensure that they are comfortable? You've put on such a brave face, spending all this time alone in the dungeon. You have no requests for me? No message to pass on? Perhaps to a loved one back home?”

“Fuck off and die,” Kara suggested.

“It pleases me that the time alone has not dulled your spirit. Still, I would be remiss in my duties as host were I not to leave you with a gift. A thank you for the gift you gave me, those many months ago. Her fingers twitched, but she kept them away from her face. Instead, she reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out an orb.

Kara frowned at it. It shimmered with a flickering light, dark shadows and rainbow light dancing around the cell as though lit by a multicolored torch. Something shone deep in its center, but every time she thought she saw a hint of it another layer of shadow slipped in front and it retreated deeper.

“I'll be back, Falconer,” the Queen said, her white teeth catching the light in a feral smile. She set the orb down at her feet, fingers giving it a lazy spin as though it were a toy top. The motion sent the patterns in the orb swirling dangerously, and when Kara looked back up the cell was empty, her retort dying on her lips. The Queen and soldier had vanished, leaving the door to her cell bolted. More magic?

Dread curdled in the base of her stomach. “It doesn't matter what you do to me,” she shouted into the darkness. “You can't win. Not anymore!” Only silence greeted her, and the slow spin of the orb on the wet stone in front of her. It never slowed, no matter how long she watched. The cell seemed to warp and bend before her, the orb illuminating just enough that the illuminated walls shrank and expanded with each spin.

Kara shut her eyes. The motion of the room and the orb made her dizzy, and her head throbbed with the contraction of the light. Whatever fresh torture the Witch Queen had in mind for her after the isolation, she had no desire to make it easier. The glimmer still danced over her eyelids, and the chains prevented her from turning her body away. Sleep deprivation, perhaps? That didn't make sense. If anything, the glow made her feel more tired than she had been earlier. If anything, sleep seemed closer than it had before the Queen's visit. If anything-

Kara jolted back to alertness, chilled by the idea. Something was wrong, she just couldn't figure out which impulse was wrong. As soon as she cracked her eye open, the orb caught her gaze in its grip once more. It felt strange, like she was caught between dreams and the waking world. Each time her heavy eyelids flickered closed, the dreams felt so close. Strange dreams, too, as though taunting her current circumstances. All the trappings of her birth, forsaken for the cause of the rebellion, beckoned each time her eyes fluttered. Silk gowns and shimmering jewels, pastries and confectioneries each worth a month's wages in the mines, all set to string music she hadn't heard since she was a girl in her father's court.

The orb twisted before her, and Kara started as though pulled out of a sudden fall. Her eyes burned, each lid crusted from disuse as she tried to blink away the pain. Something dripped down her chin, pooling on the remains of her shirt. Blood? No, not blood. Drool. How long had she hung staring at this twisted horror? She pressed her eyes closed, her head heavy and swollen.

“Witch!” she screamed into the darkness. “Whatever you plan, it won't work.” She thought she heard a laugh, high and cold, somewhere in the keep above her. The harder she squeezed her eyes closed, the more shapes and lights danced before her vision in the same twisting pattern as the orb. She forced her gaze away, shoving her face into the side of her arm to try to block out the sight. How long had she been trying? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Eventually she would have to sleep, and as soon as she lost focus the orb would pull her gaze back like a magnet. How long could she last?

Long enough. She could endure anything for just a moment longer. Just another moment, then she could rest. Rest her eyes, and her mind. Stop fighting for just a moment, so long as she fought in this one first. Then, she would have earned her rest. Earned her dreams. The lights danced before her eyes, and Kara lost herself once more to the visions.

The lights in the cell flooded on, as though it had never been a dungeon at all. Kara blinked her eyes open stupidly, staring up at the Queen. What had happened? How-

“You know how I hate to interrupt your games, my dear wife, but I'm afraid they have gone on too long. Your presence is required at dinner, so we shall put a pin in this little performance and resume at a later date.”

The Queen reached out for her hand, and Kara tried to recoil, but her muscles wouldn't work properly. She was still chained to the wall, and couldn't twist away before the Queen-

The Queen's hand brushed against her chin, smooth skin brushing gently against Kara's warm and fevered cheek, and Kara froze in shock before she could think to jerk away. “Take my hand, dear. It's time we left this place.”

Kara snapped at the Queen, forcing her to withdraw her fingers. “Is this some sort of twisted joke?” She rattled the chains against the wall for emphasis, trying to shake the cobwebs from her head. The floor was empty, the orb nowhere to be seen. The whole cell seemed less grimy in the light, and Kara could swear the damp chill that had gripped her earlier had vanished as well.

The Queen laughed, genuine amusement in her voice. “Darling, I would not have left you down here if you could not have freed yourself. The key is in your hand, precisely where it has been this whole time. Anytime this game of pretend became too much, you could have released yourself and joined me by the fire for a warm meal.”

She clenched her fingers, stiff from misuse, around the object in her hand. It couldn't have been there this whole time. Could it? But her fingers were twisted around it so tightly, as though she had gripped it for hours without respite.

The Queen smiled at her, and helped her unclench her grip. The key slid easily into the slot on the shackles, and they fell away with a clatter. Kara's limbs collapsed to the ground, and she would have collided with the stone if the Queen had not caught her, gently cradling her head.

“Too long, this time. Too long. Tell you what. I will put off our dinner by an hour. I will make excuses to the ambassadors, that won't be a problem. You take that time to recover, and take a nice long bath. Then we can eat, drink, and see our friends. I promised you dancing, as I recall?”

Kara's stomach rumbled at the thought of food, but she still twisted away from the Queen's grasp. “You think I would spit on my ideals for a bath and a meal? Speak whatever lies you wish, I will not play your games. You can leave me in this cell to rot before I would go with you.”

The Queen's eye narrowed, but that hint of a smile never left her lips. “I begin to lose my patience, wife. I admit, I find your fascination with the rebels an oddity, but it has made our evenings...more passionate.” The Queen's gaze roved over Kara, drinking her in, and the smile only grew wider. She raised her hand, fingers poised to snap. “But I think it's time we ended this little play session and return to reality. Kara, it's time you STOP PRETENDING.”

The Queen never raised her voice, but the words and snap hit her like a charging horse. Whatever thoughts she had in her head tumbled free as she toppled to the ground, cheek pressed against the cold stone.

Someone rushed to help her, warm hands lifting her free from the dungeon floor. Kara blinked stupidly at the face in front of her, so familiar, so beautiful, but impossible to place. The face smiled at her, and she felt warm and comforted as the chill of dark magic ran over her skin, knitting wounded flesh together and soothing her wounds.

“Leanne,” Kara breathed, as magic threaded through her.

“That's right,” Leanne murmured. “I missed hearing my name on your lips, wife.”

Wife. That was right. Hearing that slid the world back into focus, as though it had been balancing precariously on a knife's edge. The jumble of memories all made sense now, instead of spinning in her brain like a storm of light concealing deeper shadow.

“I'm sorry,” Kara said. “I didn't mean to take things so far. This was just a game of pretend?” She squinted at the cell. It felt like she had been there for days. Maybe even weeks. But that couldn't be right. They had only been married last week.

Leanne pulled her chin away from the cell. “Best not worry about that. Your vivid imagination is but one of the things I love about you.”

“But I could swear that I--” Leanne cut her off mid sentence, pulling her closer. The second their lips touched, all thought fled from Kara's mind. The woman's touch was electric, each hungry kiss burning its way through Kara's mind with a different memory. The first time she noticed Leanne, from clear across a crowded ballroom, the crystalline music of her laugh drowning out the dance entirely. Another kiss, and Kara remembered their first introduction, and the thrill of pleasure that shot through her as Leanne pressed her lips against the back of Kara's hand, her curtsy deep and wide. Another kiss, a dance remembered, feverish and flush as Leanne pulled her closer. The Kara in the cell let out a moan, practically a whimper, and Leanne's laugh against her throat was practically a purr. Memories of a forgotten courtship danced before her eyes, months and months of exchanging letters before finally seeing each other once more.

“Do you remember now, wife?” Leanne murmured against her neck. Kara couldn't answer, just nodded frantically as Leanne laughed against her once more. “Good. Up up up,” she said, and pulled Kara to her feet and into the darkness.

Void around her, nothing visible except the night. Kara gripped Leanne's hand tighter as the ground fell away beneath their feet. It only lasted a moment before the ground rose to meet her feet, and Kara stumbled out of the darkness into an ornate bathroom.

“Never fear, wife. It's always like this the first few times,” Leanne said. Kara shook her head again. That didn't make sense. It wasn't the first few times. She had been traveling like that with Leanne for months, even using the darkness to sneak moments away from the watchful eyes of court before their engagement was formal. Why did it still effect her so?

“A bath for my beloved,” Leanne announced. A legion of servants, dressed in pure white robes against Leanne's black, led Kara deeper into the maze of golden plumbing. Steam filled the air, filling Kara's nose with perfumed scents, just like when she grew up? The tub before her was massive, large enough to swim laps, and a slight dipping of her toe revealed that it was heated to the perfect temperature.

Someone sliced away her grimy robes, and Kara had a brief moment of panic before she remembered just how normal everything was. Leanne had seen her unclothed many times now, and her cheeks flushed as she remembered the last time that had happened. From the lecherous look she was receiving, Kara knew her wife was thinking of the same thing. How lucky, to be blessed with a partner who looked at her with that much appreciation.

A servant's hand lead her into the water, and Kara let herself melt into it. Someone began to brush the knots from her hair, and she could feel precise and professional hands beginning to scrub the grime from her body. Kara just floated. With her eyes closed, she could almost see a familiar pattern of light and shadow dancing against her eyelids.

It had been ages since her last bath. Hot water itself seemed a greater luxury than the wrought gold and pearl pipes delivering it. But that wasn't right. She had taken a bath just yesterday. She hadn't spent the last four years deep in the jungle, on the run from conjured servants of Obsidian and soldiers of the Vassal States, barely managing to stay ahead of certain death and--

“This isn't right,” Kara whispered. She lurched upright, pawing for the edge of the tub.

“What was that, dearest?” Leanne's voice whispered behind her, and Kara could hear her smile growing wider even without seeing it.

“This isn't real,” Kara said, wrinkling her brow. Blinking didn't help either, and the steam and perfumed water clung to her senses like a thick fog.

“Real? Kara, it's as real as can be. Why don't you close your eyes and relax? I'm sure everything will feel better then.” The servants moved forward, at Leanne's direction no doubt, to guide her deeper into the water. She could see her pile of rags on the floor where they had fallen. How had they gotten so dirty in a simple game? How long had she been in the cell...pretending?

One of the servants brushed her elbow, and Kara moved without thinking. Her fist struck twice in quick succession, sending one servant backwards tumbling into the water. The second did not slow, hollow obedience burning in its eyes as it reached for her still. Instinct guided Kara's hands, a second strike on the solar plexus before ramming it's head into the ornate pipes. The servant sank unmoving under the water, bobbing up a moment later. No blood flowed to cloud the water around him. Instead, dark steam and the acrid scent of burning drifted up from his wound.

Leanne tsked from somewhere behind Kara. Kara lashed out at the direction of the sound, but her blow caught only air and sent water spinning across the room.

“I knew it would take more to convince you,” the witch whispered from the darkness, practically giggling with glee. Without a target, clarity began to leech from Kara's head. Where had it come from?

The witch appeared over the tub, lounging on her cloud of darkness a few feet above the pool. The sight of her still took Kara's breath away.“Surely no wife of mine would engage in such violence. Perhaps you have always been a rebel, and all of this has been one big act to prey on my trusting nature? Is that it, Kara?”

Kara shook her head. That didn't sound right. It was wrong, deeply wrong, but she didn't know why. The witch held up her fingers, as though on the verge of snapping.

“I don't believe you anymore, Kara. Your dishonesty has wounded me so. Why can't you be honest with me and STOP PRETENDING?”

The snap echoed through her like a thunderclap. Kara had to lean against the wall to support herself as the world shifted upside down. She was herself again. The fog wouldn't leave her brain, but she remembered. She knew.

“What did you do to me?” Kara asked, dragging herself across the tub back towards the steps.

“What do you mean, Kara? What did you do to me? Why have you played with my heart so?”

“You don't have a heart, witch.” One of the servants stood in her way, but they were not guards, and offered no true test of violence. Kara twisted her leg around his and pushed him backwards into the water behind her.

“How can you say that? Don't you remember all the moments we shared?”

Kara could. She was herself, but she could still remember them. Vividly.

Leanne's hand settled on her shoulder, familiar and comforting, but when Kara lashed out the touch vanished and she caught only mist.

“I know you must have meant some of it, Kara. Nobody is that good an actress, nobody could be that good a spy. I refuse to believe that you are a deceiver, that isn't you.”

Kara forced herself down the hallway, throwing herself past the panicked servants. How had she gotten down here? The witch had brought her, she might not even be in the same castle as the dungeon. She had to find a way out. She needed a weapon, anything that might give her a better chance of escape. Someone was looking for her, somewhere. She had to get out.

Her bare feet slapped against the tiles, but no matter where she ran, the baths never ended. Pools of water shrouded in steam and shadow cornered her at every turn, and each door led only to supply closets full of soaps and towels. She lifted a ceramic pipe from one of the shelves, twirling it through the air a few times to test its weight, then turned back to the hallway. Another dead end, Kara knew that dark magic was at work. Nobody would design a set of baths with this many hallways that lead only to storerooms.

“I know you're here, witch. Show yourself.”

The Queen of the Enlightened States stepped forward from the shadows. Her cunning smile was gone, and her remaining eye was red as though she had been crying. “Do you truly wish to leave, then? None of what you told me was true?”

“Do not mince words with me,” Kara said. “I know it to be false. None of those things happened.”

The witch looked at her incredulously, her laugh more of a strangled sob. “I don't understand. I remember them. I was there. Did you mean them or not?”

“I never said them!” Kara shouted.

The witch nodded slowly, as though trying not to speak in haste during an argument, and she took a step forward. Kara tightened her grip on the pipe, and the witch responded by lifting her hands in surrender. As though that meant anything for a mage. “That's close enough. Let me out.”

“I am not keeping you here.” The witch turned and gestured back at the hallway, gesturing in permission.

“You're muddying the way. Sending me in loops.”

She laughed. “Yes, the castle is a little maze-like. I admit, I didn't build it with navigating by foot as a priority. Take my hand, then, and I will take you to the edge of my lands and you can go where you wish.”

Kara watched the outstretched hand like a viper. She couldn't think through it yet, but she knew it was a trap. What would the Falconer have done? How would she have twisted the situation to escape the witch's clutches? She shook her head, lifting the pipe again.

“Fine,” the witch said. “But I can't leave you here to brutalize every servant of mine you run past. I will walk you to the exit. Will that suffice? You can walk behind me, and keep me in you field of vision at all times. I won't even make you get rid of that ridiculous pipe.”

“What's the catch?”

The witch took a deep breath. “I need you to tell me that it was all a lie. That you never meant any of it. That it was all an act.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Kara said, feeling the trap tighten around her but unable to see it. The shark smile was gone, but Kara could still feel it in the way tears welled at the base of the witch's eye.

“Don't you? It can't have all been a lie. It couldn't all have been an act. I don't believe you're capable of that. You're trying to tell me you didn't mean a word you said on the balcony?”

“The balcony?”

“Don't even try to pretend you don't remember it.”

Kara couldn't. She did remember it. Just before their engagement, just as they could no longer pretend that they were only friends, no longer pretend to not see the heat in each other's eyes with each casual touch. A thousand suitors, each presenting extravagant opportunities to her family, and all Kara could think about was the sparkle in a witch's eye. A doomed romance, and everything coming to a head at the Solstice Renewal, on an overlooked balcony draped in fireflies and flowering vines.

“You told me we couldn't keep this up...” The words flowed from Kara's mouth, the memory revealing itself to her even as she spoke. “Couldn't keep pretending to be social friends. I couldn't keep seeing you, knowing we couldn't be anything more.”

“You looked so beautiful in your dress that night,” Leanne said.

“I looked beautiful?” Kara said. “You looked like the stars and the night both.” She could still picture that dress, the dark purples heralding the end of twilight, with the glitter of gems catching the light like the first stars.

“And what did you tell me? What did you say to convince me to forsake lands, titles, and magics, all to have you by my side?”

“That didn't happen,” Kara said, shaking her head. The witch was close now, only a few steps away. How was she so close. “You still have all of those things. It's a lie.”

“What did you say, Kara?”

“Keep back!” Kara shouted, leveling her weapon at the witch. Leanne paid it no mind, and Kara couldn't bring herself to swing it. Why? Why couldn't she swing it? The witch was her enemy, the enemy of all free people, and she was not just somebody's daughter to be wooed at a ball, she was the Falconer of the Free Cities and she could not let herself-

Leanne's hand found hers, and the pipe felt so heavy. “What did you say, Kara?” Her eye. Just like at the balcony, Kara couldn't tear her gaze away even though she knew she should leave.

“I said I didn't care about any of that,” Kara said, and the Leanne in front of her lifted a palm to cup Kara's chin just as she had then. “I said that I would march back in and renounce my council seat before I let you walk out without me on your arm.”

“Were you pretending then? Or did you mean it?”

Kara's mouth went dry. “I...I meant it. Of course I meant it.”

“Then why insist on running? You've been living here for months, Kara. You know the way out of the bathing chambers. You could leave at any time. I know,” Leanne said, never breaking eye contact. “I know why you can't bring yourself to leave.” She lifted Kara's hand, and something clattered to the floor. Something unimportant. What was important was where Leanne was guiding her hand. Right over Leanne's heart, just above her breasts. Kara's fingers just inches from the soft, perfect patch of skin at the base of her neck. She could feel the beat against her skin, an excited pulse that sent her own racing in response.

“W-why?” Kara asked, struggling to track the conversation as Leanne's lips grew ever closer.

“Because I don't believe you could fake this. I don't believe you were faking how badly you wanted me then, and I don't believe you're faking it now.” Her fingers danced across Kara's arm, so gentle it sent sent tantalizing goosebumps all over her body. She was aware of herself, aware of her body, unclothed with her desire helplessly on display. She wanted to say something but all she could think of were Leanne's lips on hers.

“Tell me, Kara. If you were really a rebel, unbound and free to leave if you just made the attempt, would you be here in my arms, melting like this?” Leanne moved in for the kiss, halting for just a moment before. Just long enough for Kara to recognize how she moved forward to meet it, how hungry she was for Leanne's grip to grow more insistent.

Leanne obliged, pulling her closer, and Kara forgot what she had been doing holding the other woman apart. She just wanted her close, wanted to feel Leanne's skin on Kara's. She ripped at the ties of Leanne's robes, tearing with abandon until they slid to the waist and Kara could see her queen before her at last. The sight of her breasts, full and perfect, stunned Kara from her task as she imagined-remembered?- the taste of them on her tongue.

“I heard that noise,” Leanne breathed in her ear. “Would a rebel spy sent to infiltrate my castle make such a pathetic, needy noise? Would a hardened rebel infiltrator be dripping on my floor with arousal after just a touch and a kiss?” Kara brought a finger between her thighs, trying to bite back another moan at the sudden pressure. She needed a release valve, needed a release more than anything. Who was this woman to inspire such feelings in her?

Leanne pushed Kara away for a moment, kicking off the remnants of her robes. Kara stared at the woman in front of her, a work of art, a thing of beauty. And she was Kara's. She'd chosen Kara as her wife. That still stunned her each time. What had she done to deserve the attention of such a goddess?

“Answer me, wife. Would the leader of the rebellion be standing in front of me, mouth watering with the slightest glimpse of my cunt? Don't be shy. You remember it well, don't you? Why don't you take a closer look, if you're having trouble answering?”

Kara didn't understand what had happened. The world shifted, and all of a sudden she was kneeling in front of Leanne. She could smell the other woman's arousal, imagining—yearning for-- the release from thought and responsibility of everyday life as she worshiped.

“Well, rebel,” Leanne purred from above her. “You have me right where you want to. I am at your mercy,” she said, naked cunning in her voice as she twisted her hips back and forth. Kara followed her movement like a puppet on a string. “I won't let you keep playing with my heart like this. If you want to be with me, be with me. No more of these fantasies of another life. Be my wife, Kara, and I will make you the happiest woman on earth.”

“Yes,” Kara said, her voice quiet. She had never taken her finger out of her dripping pussy, mindlessly rubbing as she waited. Waited for her wife's permission. For her goddess' permission.

“This is where you belong,” her queen said, and Kara's head bobbed frantically up and down in agreement.

“Then STOP PRETENDING that you've ever been anything other than mine.”

Leanne's fingers snapped, and something twisted deep inside Kara. She felt an absence, like the curl of a paper as it burned away to ash. The haze in her head cleared, and she leaned forward to bury her face in her queen's cunt. Leanne moaned, and Kara almost came just from the sound. This was where she belonged. Everything else was just a fantasy. This was what she had been born for. Everything else fell away to shadow, and Kara fell through the void with her wife, lapping obediently as she chased each groan of arousal and pleasure.

Leanne's back arched, and she gripped the back of Kara's head possessively. “Mine,” she hissed, and Kara could hold back the rush of pleasure no longer. Hers.

When Kara awoke, the two of them were draped across each other on a massive bed, sheets still soaked from the previous night.. Kara rolled over to look at Leanne, admiring her body in the dim light. Kara ran a hand over her cheek, brushing back a lock of hair. A glimmer on her finger caught her eye, the stone of her wedding ring as the light glanced over the swirl of rainbow and shadow.

“Awake so early, wife?” Leanne's voice was thick with sleep, but she cracked her one eye open to watch Kara.

“I thought we had an important function last night,” Kara said, kissing the other woman's forehead. “I'm sorry for pulling you away.”

“You, my dear, will always be worth rescheduling a dreary court event for,” Leanne said, closing her eye and sighing. “But I hope that when we prepare for the next one, we will not have to waste quiet as much time waiting for you to stop pretending?”

Leanne snapped her fingers suddenly, and Kara jumped. “What was that?”

Her queen's smile widened, that same shark-like grin that Kara remembered first falling in love with. “Nothing, my dear wife. Just checking to see if there was anything left for you to shift back to. Don't worry about it for even one single moment.”

Kara nodded. She didn't quite understand, but Leanne would never lie to her. “What duties await us today?”

“High time we presented you to court. I expect you will cause quite a stir. Many of the Free Cities could hardly believe the announcement of our wedding. They will have to see you for themselves.”

“Of course,” Kara said. She couldn't imagine anything more natural than sitting in support of Leanne.

“And perhaps we will put your little rebel fantasies to the test. You have a keen mind, Kara. I value any information you may have....imagined about the rebel forces. You may be able to...intuit something helpful.”

“Of course,” Kara said. “Whatever you need, My Queen.”

Leanne laughed, and pulled her in for a kiss. “However did I get so lucky to find a wife like you?”

Kara kissed her back. However it happened, she couldn't imagine a different life.