327 B.C. - 325 B.C. - Idgard

Even if she was - through some mysterious ways, like Cassandra - it didn't matter to Alexandra. She was going to write her own story. One that didn't involve daggers in courts, or conditions before marriage. Or even, for that matter, love-less marriage.

Still, she had one thing to make clear.

'Ann's Doom?' Alexandra asked. 'Does it mean...'

'Ethan's Doom. EthAN's Doom.' Liam confirmed. 'The artist either got the spelling wrong, or Sabel named it that herself, for the sake of secrecy.'

And even before he had completed, she wondered what it would feel like, being Liam. Everybody knew how tough her life had been, but they all thought he had always had a smooth going, was somehow naturally a perfect. Alexandra was going through new emotions she didn't know the names for. A mix of fright and wariness, trust and love. With a dash of confusion. Her mind was cluttered with the "everything" she had asked for. And now, because she had them, they were her thoughts too. But Alexandra knew they wouldn't haunt her. For her, those memories were just milestones somebody else had crossed.

'Good you told me.' She beamed, not commenting on the EthAN's Doom part. She looked around at the darkness, 'I wouldn't kiss pure, perfect gold anyhow.' Complete, almost eerie silence followed.

'Coming to think of it, I don't think I was ever kissed. Even a simple peck on the cheek. Not to be a sobstory though... I was a deplorable teen.'

'Time to change things.' Alexandra sang, shrugging as she drew closer. Part of her was appalled at the completely affectionless life Liam had had to live. And his only fault in that was being born. It amazed her, how he had developed into that sweet and bewitching person, nevertheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, waiting until he had his arms around her waist. Liam moved closer.

'CAPTAIN!' Watson's voice traveled across the length of the Lake.

Their almost touching heads bumped together. And she couldn't help laughing - after the initial groan of dismay. 'The type of fate we are born with!' She exclaimed, shaking her head and turning to Watson.

He just seemed to have realized that Alexandra wasn't alone. That she currently wouldn't particularly like being interrupted. A hand crawled to his mouth. 'Oh - good lord.' He almost squeaked, 'Don't give me life imprisonment now! I mean - please continue!'

Liam looked at her, then back at Watson. He shook his head. 'Why does everybody say "please continue" after interrupting?'

Alexandra quite agreed, it was the second time that had happened, and perhaps there would be a lot more. If there were perks of being a royal couple, there were a lot of downsides too. Downsides that she was more than ready to overlook, for Liam's sake. She turned to Watson and hollered, 'No, come on! Tell me! The harm's already done.'

'Oh well,' he finally smirked, letting down his guard. Not quite so guilty, after all. 'Somebody finally said "yes".'

Alexandra shot up to her feet. It was her turn to squeak "good lord". 'Good lord! Not - not Diana?!'

Liam was the next to register shock. And he knew nothing about the whole Watson-Diana-Mark scandal. 'Does that somehow mean...' He ventured, looking at Watson like the spy had signed his death warrant.

Alexandra nodded frantically, she was so high in spirits. 'The lady has just officially said yes. You know what a massive thing that is?!' And he did, of course. 'Mark's making things difficult though.'

But Liam seemed to find it extremely funny. And interesting. 'You mean - you are going to be Mark's brother-in-law?' He asked Watson.

Watson seemed to himself realize that just then. His jaw dropped. 'Er... well, we aren't exactly brotherly. So, could you please ask him to not kill me?' Alexandra hoped Mark wouldn't. Or Diana would kill him and then she would have to kill Diana. To make matters more interesting, fratricide was not a very forgivable crime.

'Reg!' Diana's annoyed voice hollered.

'Oooh.' Alexandra smirked slyly, 'Reg-inald Watson. Straight down to Reg?!'

'Don't tease him, Alex.' Liam professed. 'If you do that, what will Diana Fannel do?' Then he caught sight of The Diana Fannel, emerging from the groves on the right. Diana saw him - and she froze.

'You-?!' She asked, her hand instinctively reaching her dagger. But she at least didn't pull it out.

Liam seemed to still find it funny. With what she recognized as enormous effort, he succeeded in wiping the grin off his face. 'Greetings, Miss Diana.' He said, rather solemnly. Then Alexandra, whose ribs were already cracking from the effort, snorted - ruining all solemnity. She walked a few dazed steps, laughing violently, until Liam accepted that she was having one of her "fits of laughter" and put an arm around her. With the solemnity gone, he decided he could have a dig at Diana, 'I hear of certain engagements without brotherly approval.'

Diana's bright green eyes glittered dangerously. A flush rose to her cheeks. Alexandra was trying very hard to stop laughing, but it was impossible. 'In the very beginning, your engagement too didn't have King Austin's approval.' Diana pointed out.

'For approximately thirty six hours, yes.' Liam agreed, 'This case however, is a bit more complex.' And then he turned to Alexandra, 'That's enough for a day, my lady, you will laugh yourself hoarse.'

Alexandra did stop after that. She caught Watson's eye and grinned. She was pretty sure now that Diana had given a "yes", Fannel wouldn't be a huge problem. Maybe Watson would have to act like a good boy for a month or so. Maybe they would have to build bridges of Watson's praise. But in the end, maybe it would all be worth it.

She didn't like the number of "maybes" in her sentences. Maybe Alexandra would marry. Maybe she would see certain marriages. In June, they were supposed to see Mary and Mark wed. Alexandra just hoped she saw Watson and Diana together. Somehow, it mattered a lot.

Diana however, now didn't seem extremely bent for a duel. On the contrary, she was plotting with Liam about how they could make Fannel see sense. 'I don't think praises will melt him.' She pointed, sounding worried and absentmindedly playing with the hilt of her dagger.

'Nothing will melt him.' Liam declared, 'I say, you should go and give him two smacks down the head. Preferably, one on each side.' He stopped for a small grin as Diana seethed. 'On a more serious note, Mark wants the best for you. If we prove that Reg is the best, then there's hope.'

Watson was listening cross-armed. He then turned to Alexandra and said, 'I guess these two dangerously clever minds will find a way.'

Alexandra rather agreed. If Liam couldn't find a way, nobody could. She linked her arm through Watson's. 'So Elf,' she continued, wandering away, and pulling him along, 'remind me what the punishment for loitering around was, again?'

* * *

Alexandra's first day as Queen was entirely frightful.

She woke up at her usual three. The first normal day more than a month after her wedding. Countless customs, entertaining a whole battalion of guests which included her siblings. Those festivities lasted a month. People promised her that almost the whole first year would be of revelry - the very idea terrified her. But finally the last night's procession, had been nice event after all.

All in all, it was still good Alexandra woke up then, because Mileva wouldn't have appreciated otherwise.

Mileva Debrille.

The Head Attendant of previous queen Cassandra. She was touching sixty now, but no less dangerous. Pale and wrinkly as a parchment, with thin, rosy lips and thick eyebrows. Her gray eyes reminded Alexandra of an owl. But she was stick-thin and looked as if she would shatter into a hundred pieces if dropped.

'Queen Alexandra.' She registered, in her low, gravelly voice. But with a lot of elegance, marking her position as the holder of immense fashionable knowledge.

'Er- good morning?' Alexandra ventured. She found Mileva horribly like her old dance teacher. That lady had given up on Alexandra completely by the time she was fifteen. It had been a good riddance. Mileva nodded, then extended her hands to check Alexandra's dress.

'No!' Alexandra warned, 'Don't touch me!'

Mileva seemed suspicious. 'Why?'

'I have... got a few blades. Let me just- remove them?' Alexandra requested. Mileva stepped back, disapproval twitching in her neck. She ordered some other girls around, as Alexandra one by one pulled out the knives and blades.

Mileva's eyebrows travelled up and up her forehead the whole while. 'Done, Alexandra?' She asked, seven minutes later, almost like her mother-in-law.

'Yes. That's how many I remember.' Alexandra muttered.

'Twenty one blades?' Mileva thundered. 'Don't you realize they are fatal?!'

She found it hard to believe that Mileva cared about things that could be fatal to her. 'Oh no, they won't hurt me.' She beamed in reply. Mileva took a huge pile of drapes from a girl and piled them on a cushion. Then she looked up.

'I know that. I was saying that they can be fatal to the King.' She replied drily, pricking Alexandra's bubble of impressment. She wanted to reply with "Is your King a child?!" But then thought that would be very rude and bit it back.

'I'll keep that in mind.' She simply said, instead. She had more things to worry about, like the immense pile of drapes that were kept on the cushion by Mileva just then. She was not supposed to wear those, was she? It looked as heavy as her wedding dress- which she was fine with wearing for one day. Everyday? No!

Alexandra's hair was still coily from yesterday's dressing. And a bit wet, because it was Idgardian custom to spray new couples with water. It had been fun to ride through Idgard and get doused with water, right after the foreign guests had left at night. A few jolly-minded ones stood on their terraces and emptied buckets of water on their heads. Liam swore he would have the neck of anybody who complained of water shortage after that.

And the customs did not ask for it, but because of high public demands and mutual agreement, towards the end of the ride- they had wrapped their arms around each other and kissed. Alexandra had felt giddy and on the top of the world, no interruptions - and no "please continue" this time. Despite how drenched she was, she had felt fire flare through her veins. A humungous cheer had rose all around them and they were flooded with water, so much so that it had become difficult to breath.

'Flames in water.' Liam had remarked, withdrawing. He had pushed his dark hair aside, his lips redder than before, and greeted the pouting ladies with a smirk. Somebody had to tell that man how difficult it was for anyone to stop looking at him.

But later on, in another, less-enjoyable, public custom - the king had been supposed to crown her the queen. Till there, it had been alright. But to her horror, she had discovered that she remembered not a word of the oath queens were supposed to take.

The glistening crown perched atop her head, she had taken a long look at Liam, for it always gave her courage. Then turning to face Idgard, she had owned up. It had been terrible and she had not known what in world she was going to say. But once she had begun, words had just tumbled out. 'I shall not lie on this day - the day that is supposed to be my most memorable one. I know I am supposed to now swear, with a hand to my heart. But - dearest Idgardians - I,' she had shaken her head, so that her voice would quiver. 'I do not remember a single word of the vow of Queen-ship.'

There had been a huge hue and cry about it - angry mutterings and outrageous hisses. Liam had looked alarmed - his hand had reached the hilt of his sword instantly - a gesture that had clearly pronounced that Alexandra would need some protection. Especially because she was unarmed except the blades.

'But!' She had interrupted - knowing she couldn't let everything go down the drain because of her stupidity. 'But - that is all the better - since what I will now say will be from my heart - and not a replication of an age-old oath from my memory.' She had looked around as the voices had died down, the people had been ready to listen and that had been warming enough. 'I might be eccentric and different from the previous, respectable queens. I might not be able to satisfy everybody - but, I swear I will always try the hardest I can. If that means putting duty above love, above family, above - even myself - I swear I won't think twice. I can count virtues that a queen is supposed to have - I can say I will incorporate them - but I do not think my beauty and my forbearance will fill the stomachs and hearts of citizens-'

A generous laughter had followed - from the multitudes of all sizes and all ages - but most noblewomen had sat with their lips pursed.

'-and I mean it.' She had nodded, with a faint smile. 'And that is why, I swear I will NOT be perfect. I will do what is the best for all of us and not what looks the best. I might look deplorable and heartless for it - I might look audacious and uncaring - but as I have already said, duty precedes everything and it precedes even my own honor.' The after-effect of this line had been massive. Alexandra had to make sure that they were shouting praises and not insults. But the result had been satisfactory. When it had died down, she had shrugged.

'I am - I am tongue-tied and I think I have already spoken twice the amount my oath was supposed to be. But to - conclude - I will just say that I have already got the role-model with me,' and she had turned to look at Liam, an involuntary flush rising to her cheeks. 'I am unwise and unskilled but in the end, if I am able to do half as much good as he has done - and if I succeed in entering a quarter as many hearts as he has - I will consider my life and my oath - successful.'

Even with the shouts and the spirited cries of the masses, she had heard Liam's whisper of, 'You flatter me.' But it had been so suffused with love, that she had felt her legs almost give way.

Alexandra must have been smiling looking into the distance, because Mileva snapped her finger in front of her face. The queen jumped out of her thoughts. 'Ye- yes?'

'Why are you wearing boots, Alexandra?' She repeated.

'They are comfortable.' She simply pointed out. Idgard, as Liam had already warned her, was rather patriarchal. He had agreed they would have to change it, but big things happened slowly. 'Why do I have to, like... dress up so much?' She added.

Mileva looked like she used to this question. First she raised Alexandra's chin and scrutinized her face. 'A number eight needle, Astrid!' She barked to somebody. Alexandra sincerely hoped the needle wouldn't be used to prick her. 'Pull out those boots.' She ordered, 'Wear these.' And she showed Alexandra a pair of sparkling, thin slippers that would be torturous to walk in. 'A Queen,' Mileva then began her rant, 'must wear and act according to the wealth and supremacy of her nation. Needless to say,' she continued, pushing Alexandra into a chair and lifting one strand of her hair, watching it with professional interest. 'The first virtue you must have is beauty. A pretty face will only be visible when seen from close. So,' she enlightened, working so fast with Alexandra's hair that her hands were just blurs in the mirror ahead of them, 'you need to have certain feature enhanced.' Mileva gave her mane a final twist and let it hang from there in a stunningly patterned bun, 'Like your hair. Whereas some features,' she continued, picking up the thick needle number eight with a blackened tip, and running it over Alexandra's eyebrows to conceal the arch. 'Need to be altered. Like those haughty eyebrows.'

'Until I appear very pretty.' Alexandra surmised, 'But what good will it do if I haven't got a Queenly spirit? I'll just open my mouth and all your efforts go down the drain.'

'Which is why,' Mileva smiled tartly, 'Idgardian Queens are expected to not open their mouths at all.'

That sentence settled down on Alexandra like a thorn on her tongue. She gave Mileva a side stare and replied, equally unpleasantly, 'But I am going to speak as much as I want to. And I'd love to see who stops me, because your King, for one person - will not.'

'He is, not as you mistake him to be.' Mileva replied, quite calmly. 'When these early days of affection will wear out, Queen Alexandra, you shall find him to be what a proper king is. And a proper king knows to limit his wife when there is still time.'

'Is that a dig at my late father-in-law, Miss Debrille?'

'One cannot call it a "dig", but it certainly was a reference to the late king. Now, queen, I have known your husband since he was in his cradle. Before that even. I know when he first kicked in his mother's womb. I will not say I expected him to come out this way, but I will not accept anybody claiming to know him better than I do, either.'

If Alexandra had thought that being a queen was easier than being a spy, she had been thoroughly mistaken. And as much as she did not believe Mileva's rant, one thing that hung with her was "when the early days of affection will wear out".

She did not know what to make of it, but the realization that things like those were probable, that Liam could very much take ten other wives when she no longer allured - disturbed her pleasant state of mind. Not insecure, not overly secure either, Alexandra sat there and allowed her (almost) mother-in-law, who had known her husband since he was in his cradle, do her job.

And almost an hour later, Alexandra was dying. She half feared that this was Mileva's retribution.

The Sapphire Blue robes were killing her. Added to the glassy slippers where each step felt like stepping on a knife: Alexandra needed serious help. She considered using Moira on Mileva, but that seemed too harsh on a sixty year old senior citizen.

'Is this dress intended to be walked in?' Alexandra politely questioned. She felt Olivia would have been proud of her right now, finally able to say, that's my sister! for Alexandra.

'Most certainly.' Mileva nodded, 'I don't say this everyday and to everybody. But you are looking magnificent, Queen.'

If that was compliment, it wasn't a very good one. "Magnificent" was a term to describe non-living things. If Alexandra was looking "magnificent" then she was certainly looking non-living. 'And... what am I supposed to do now?'

'Whatever you wish to.' Mileva shrugged, 'It is six. Court begins at eight. Maybe, like a dutiful wife, you can go and check upon the King.'

Alexandra considered that idea. No, she would have to ascend six flights of stairs to the dressing room. That could be fatal. 'Apart from that?' She explored.

'You could read.'

'Hmm,' Alexandra registered. Boring ideas - because while there was no dearth of good volumes in the Palace, those wouldn't be readily available to her. The things she could get were along the lines of being a perfect queen and "forbearance is the topmost virtue". 'Is anybody a warrior here?'

She could see Mileva's eyes travel across her arms in slight disapproval. On the word "warrior", her eyes narrowed. 'Queen Alexandra, I appreciate the fact that you are fighter. But it's time to leave all those behind. You are too lean. And too argumentative. Queens should be peacemakers, not debaters.'

Alexandra felt resent boil in the pit of her stomach. Mileva's chant of Queens this and Queens that were eating her up. The hairdo was beginning to prove heavy. Given the sultry day it was, Alexandra almost felt like heat had made way into her brain. She was going to lose her marbles.

'Can I go out?' She finally asked, as politely as possible.

'No.'

'Why?'

'Queens a-'

'FINE!' Alexandra barked, 'just leave me alone!' She added. Mileva looked as if she was trying hard to conceal a smug grin. Alexandra knew the old lady was spiting her. It just added fuel to fire. She gave Mileva one final smoldering look and turned away.

* * *

Night once again. A pretty, moonless night.

Alexandra was sitting on a Palace Staircase. The hairdo was still in place, her robes were still shining. Her inner shine, however, must have gone dim. She had pulled off the torturous slippers and was massaging her sore, painful soles.

She was burning with rage and helplessness. One after the other, those ladies had been hellbent on ending her life. After the whole episode of that day, Alexandra wanted to ask what Queens were for, after all? Only producing heirs?

'So you finally escaped.' Liam noted, sitting down beside her. By now, Alexandra had got pretty used to his unannounced arrivals.

'Are you spiting me?' She asked, dryly, not even turning to look at him.

'A tiny bit, yes.' Liam agreed. Alexandra turned to stare at him reproachfully. It had quite the opposite affect. She herself felt slightly cheerful, catching his face.

'How do you survive here?' She queried. For her, it felt like a confinement. She liked the exquisite carpets, the sparkling crystal ornaments and the bright shades of the Palace. But the fact that she couldn't come in and go out, of her own free will, dampened Alexandra's spirits heavily. 'I cannot even step outside of my own free will!'

'After thirty years, you too might get used to it. As for the stepping outside part, which idiot told that you couldn't? This is not a prison.' Liam clarified, 'Maybe next time, you can use Moira on her.'

Alexandra liked the way he said "Moira". A bit differently from her own, Dovish, thicker way of enunciating "r". Liam pronounced it plainly, a bit more stress on the "i". These few, negligible places of difference reminded Alexandra how, in constitution, she was still Dovish. And would always be.

Yet, she didn't feel as resentful of the Mileva as she felt of her own self. Why did what Mileva say make a difference? If she could break into the Palace twice before, she could surely escape. In fact, what was the point of "escape" here? She could simply leave. Then there was the point of the colossal robes- well, Alexandra would just have to pull them off.

'What happened to your foot?' Liam asked, suddenly.

'Oh.' Alexandra began, moistening her lips. 'Sparkling, thin slippers happened.' She explained. Liam raised his eyebrows and had a look at her red, throbbing soles.

He finally looked up after a minute, rather reprovingly. 'You need to learn how to say "no", Alexandra.'

'Well,' Alexandra replied, rather innocently, 'teach me how to.'

Liam exhaled, looking caught between amusement and exasperation. 'Get up.' He said.

'What?' Alexandra asked, frowning.

'Just get up.' He repeated. So Alexandra did. 'Bang your head to that wall.'

'What?!' She repeated, 'why?'

'Just bang your head to that wall.' He maintained, humorlessly. Alexandra stared uncertainly, not realizing what exactly was happening. 'I said, bang it!' Liam ordered.

'No, why should I!?' Alexandra said, caught off-guard. The moment that word was out of her mouth, she registered the whole sequence. She sat back down as Liam gave her a satisfied grin.

'That is,' he explained, like an unhurried tutor, 'how you say "no". And now, we leave for dinner- preferably without those sparkling, thin slippers.'