Alexandra couldn't sleep.

She had always said that the Palace beds were too soft. Even after twenty three good years, she sometimes found it annoying. It felt as if the foamy mattress was engulfing her. And she wondered how she had survived as a Princess all those years in Doveland.

Liam never helped matters: it didn't take him more than five minutes to fall asleep. Alexandra, meanwhile, was more of an owl: she found it difficult to sleep at night, and even more difficult to wake up. It had been a different plane of embarrassment when she had had to ask Liam, "can you teach me to sleep?".

And a different plane of irritation when he had had a good laugh about it. Alexandra had watched on, with a straight, unimpressed face. Sleeplessness was not something she had had forever. In fact, as she herself agreed - sleep decreasing with age was quite common. Then again, some people just got lucky. Like Liam.

'Let your thoughts flow,' he had then advised- getting over laughing. As it wasn't very difficult, Alexandra had decided to give it a try. But as usual, nothing went as expected. After about an hour of wondering, she had finally whispered back,

'Liam, don't be angry, but can you tell me how the mapmakers make maps?'

'What?!' He had asked back, snapping awake. 'Postmasters?'

'Mapmakers.' Alexandra had repeated, making a square with her fingers. 'How do they know what the countries look like? How do they know how big a country is? How do they know where it begins and where it ends?' She had demanded. She had sincerely let her thoughts flow, but that was where they were going. Mapmakers weren't supernatural species, so how did they manage to figure out what the world looked like?

'They imagine it.' Liam had guessed, 'you better ask them.'

The disinterest had further pricked Alexandra. 'You mean we are living on some people's imagination? Why can't they be wrong?' She had asked.

'Why should we care?' He had asked back. Alexandra hadn't really known why she cared. All she knew was that it was very irresponsible to believe the mapmakers. What if they had got everything wrong? What if Vedessa's shape didn't resemble a rough-edged square parchment?

'We should care because we live in it!' She had pressed.

'You know what, Alexandra,' Liam had replied, side-stepping the question and turning to look at her, rather seriously. 'There was once a woman who kept asking questions and questions and questions. People didn't have any answer for her, and even if they did reply once, she popped up two more questions. Eventually, everybody began ignoring her. So the woman was left with no choice but to store her questions in her head. And then, one fine day, her head, so conceited with queries and unable to contain them - simply burst into a million pieces.'

'Who made such a silly story?! Why are you telling me this?' Alexandra had demanded, making a face. But a second later, she had clapped a hand to her mouth, realizing that the woman in the story was her and that she really had popped up two more questions.

'Think about it,' he had advised, his smirk visible despite the dark. 'Who made the story. I'll just drop a small hint - his name starts with an L. And right now, he desperately wants to sleep.'

Alexandra smiled to herself, turning the queer memory over in her mind. That was exactly what could be expected when she let her thoughts flow. And tonight, Alexandra couldn't risk it. Liam's side of the bed was empty. And she knew trying was no good. Sleep was not her best friend.

Aimlessly, she got up and pulled her cloak on. Maybe a small walk would do her some good. Alexandra pensively descended the rows of shining staircases, hoping she did not run into anybody. Avoiding trouble was the best policy.

When trouble was in question... the Espionage council invariably came into her mind. Alexandra wondered if she should voluntarily retire from it - Fannel's term of service ended next year. The year after that, Kane would be gone. And very soon, it would be her turn. 

Three years ago, she had completely given up trials - it was just more fun to sit on one of the high desks and order everybody around. Now she knew why Master George had been in such excellent health: bossing over everybody was an invigorating job.

But she hadn't ever considered the word "retirement" before. Alexandra just went with the flow. But all her years in the Council had been too important. She didn't want to leave that decision of concluding her term, on destiny alone.

You don't decide that. What you leave on destiny and what you keep in your own hands. Nah.

Mind had spoken up after a very long time. And Alexandra found even the harsh words, oddly endearing. It felt like a conciliation with an old friend she hadn't been on speaking terms with.

Looking around her, she recognized the garden she was so well acquainted with. It grew wild now: just clever gardening that gave it a slightly chaotic angle. Cold, dry January winds rushed past her, unhurriedly. Alexandra had never been too good at recognizing different plants. Diana had tried to teach her a few very common ones, but the information had simply leaked out of Alexandra's brain.

But she congratulated herself on finding such a serene substitution for sleeping. And the very first time she had been here...

Alexandra smiled broadly to herself. A little triumphantly too, perhaps. She had come a long way in those thirty seven years. They had come a long way in those years. From the wary, closed-up, "Idgard is good, Sir." to "Liam, please just shut up for once!"- why not, that was a long way.

Alexandra shook her head, grinning. Whoever said that people mellowed down with age, had certainly got it wrong. She hadn't improved one tiny bit.

'... I didn't want to disrespect him, Adam!' 

The exasperated voice, which she immediately recognized as Ophelia's, wiped the grin clear off Alexandra's face. She turned towards her right, where the assertion had come from. But Ophelia? At this hour? With Adam?!

It was one thing that she had done to take Lia's fancy of him lightly. Alexandra wasn't the type to crush her daughter's feelings. That didn't mean she could start meeting men in the gardens!

That's rather unfair, Alexandra. You were seventeen when you met Liam here!

And no, the two situations weren't similar at all. Liam had asked her to come. Liam had been a King. Liam had proved himself trustworthy by then. She didn't think Adam was downright untrustworthy. But he wasn't who Liam had been.

'You are the Heir, Princess. If our Heir does not have any control over her tongue,' Adam's voice depreciated, 'I would hate to imagine what our future looks like.'

Alexandra took a step forward. She knew, by now, that they were arguing. And she would first find out what all this was about. Then, maybe, drag Ophelia back with her. Peering over the top of a leafless, branched shrub, Alexandra could see both of them face to face. Adam's expression firm and disapproving. Ophelia's helpless.

'This was the very first time. And maybe I was a bit too loud - but I wasn't wrong. Father is a bit too good. You agree?'

Alexandra watched Adam nod stiffly. She couldn't see where this was going. Where was Liam coming from, in all this?

'But I have my flaws!' Ophelia continued, 'I cannot be perfect. He needs to see that. He just wants everybody to be ideal. Is taking eleven minutes - with one hand in a heavy cast - such a big deal?!'

'Is asking you to improve, such a big deal?!' Adam asked back. Then he exhaled, as Ophelia fell silent, remembering himself. 'My humble apologies, Princess.' He said, deferentially. 'But if you make me speak, I shall not lie.' He added.

Alexandra nodded to herself - from the looks of it - Ophelia had had a disagreement with Liam. And hard as it was to believe it, Adam was siding with him. 

In that case, things were interesting.

'Fine.' Ophelia relented. 'I'll just make up with him. He never takes offence, anyhow. But you, Adam. Why are you siding with my father so much?'

Alexandra nodded a bit more, before biting her lips uncertainly. Ophelia was steering the conversation to dangerous waters. Alexandra half wanted to intervene. But Ophelia was seventeen. Not a minor anymore, because in Idgard, fifteen was the age of maturity. It was at least better than Doveland's unjustifiable fourteen. Still, according to her, too young. It should have been eighteen. Maybe twenty one. Or best, twenty five. 

'I just felt he was right, and - it's my own wish.' Adam muttered. A bit too hurriedly, looking away. Alexandra's eyes widened. Reading between the lines, Ophelia's feelings were not one-sided. And their discussion had already entered the dangerous waters.

No. Alexandra thought, shaking her head. Not today. Not now. She's too young.

'Liar.' Ophelia smirked, looking remarkably like Liam. Which somehow reminded Alexandra that she was intruding upon her daughter's privacy. But what Ophelia didn't know, couldn't harm her. 'You just want to make a good impression in front of him.' She continued, 'so that... he approves of you and...' Ophelia ventured, letting the sentence hang. But Adam had gone crimson. 

'And...?' He prompted, in a little more than a whisper.

'Mhm hmm,' Ophelia nodded, crossing her arms. 'You really want me to voice it out? Well then, I think it was ever since the Banquet of Penelope. We had a pretty good time together and ever since, you have been much, much more inclined towards Father. So, if I make you speak, you will speak the truth. Is what I just said, not true, Adam?' She asked, cunningly. 

'It is - true,' Adam muttered. 'H-'

'Don't ask me how I know,' Ophelia interrupted, twinkling. 'I know much of what happens in Idgard. And you, especially, are phenomenal enough to know about.'

Adam didn't respond immediately. He just took an involuntary step backward. Alexandra knew how it was, when somebody a lot higher in rank decided to flirt. She had been in those petty, inescapable situations, a lot with senior Agents and with certain people on her trials. It had been in her favour that Liam was not the flirtatious type, because he had admitted harboring an attraction, ever since the Akwanda scandal.

'And then I wonder why Ophelia was so vexed. Goodness, I'm thick!' Liam's voice exclaimed, from Alexandra's left as she turned, slightly alarmed and her mouth falling open. 'But I still say, eleven minutes and thirty one seconds is too long. Thirty one seconds is all it should have taken her. You disagree?' He asked, casually looking into Alexandra's eyes: a lot of unsaid things passing between them. Calmly, they turned to look ahead.

'Thirty one seconds is a bit paranoid, Liam.' Alexandra declared, after a minute of silence.

'Are you really Master George's student?' He asked, as if it was the most controversial topic of debate in all of Idgard.

Alexandra didn't reply immediately, wondering what kind of a question that was. And as far as spies were concerned, their focus was never on the duration of a duel. If it was possible, they always considered it better to simply push the opponent down cliffs or hills. 'Of course I am. But he never showed us any thirty one second duel.' She added.

'But he did show you true paranoia.'

Alexandra stared at him, at once speechless and unimpressed - searching for something fitting to reply with.

'Why don't you see it?!' Ophelia's voice meanwhile cut through, 'you need not worry, Adam.' She informed, crossing her arms. 'Both my parents, already admire you. And while we shouldn't explicitly mention it, I do admire you too. Admire... admire... like. I guess I like you, Adam.'

'Our daughter sounds like a hardened flirt.' Alexandra grunted disapprovingly, completely forgetting about "paranoia", as Ophelia took a step forward towards Adam, who seemed momentarily muted.

'Well - she's too full of Me.' Liam shrugged, humorously. 'Admire... admire... like.' He repeated, looking amused. Unlike Alexandra, he seemed quite uncaring of how late it was, or what Ophelia had just done.

'But I don't like it at all - this is indecency. And she's bolder, Liam.' Alexandra informed. 'With you, I never got the slightest inkling that you did admire... admire... like me.' She added, her attention lifting off Ophelia, in the process.

'I had to do that.' He replied, plainly. 'I've never been good with hearts. But I guess you can relax. They are able to be indecent because they are not serious. Ophelia is uncommitted. Don't you know what the Banquet of Penelope is like? She knows it is an infatuation. And like every other young adult this world has seen, she is enjoying it. I was more or less lovesick. Extremes going to the point where I called different people by "Alexandra". Bold?' Liam asked, 'every second I was around you, the only things I contemplated on were, "goodness, does she know?" "am I staring for too long?" "am I blushing?" and I would read the chemistry between you and the other agents. Especially with the one who had those pixie ears ... Watson. As far as I know - at some point of time - he was interested in you. He sometimes nettled me, with all that aggression and superficiality. But later on, after that Triumph Meeting - finally yes, I got bold enough... and that was tough.' He shook his head, 'but it was worth it.' He added.

Alexandra couldn't help grinning maniacally. True, she was astonished. And a little bit amused. But nothing more than tickled.

Of course, the Banquet of Penelope was quite infamous. Almost like a drunk gathering for everybody to find lovers. Eat. Drink. Socialize. Repeat. Indeed, if that was where Adam and Ophelia had had a good time... then they hadn't had a very realistic view of each other. On the other hand, the thought that  Watson had held a fancy to her, was not completely unbelievable. But she just knew she wouldn't survive with him. He was dynamic and intense, much like Alexandra herself. And when two fires clashed, it was just more of an explosion. 

Still, Watson had made Liam insecure at some point. Nothing could be more amusing. 

'Do you think we should follow them?' Liam asked, unaffected by Alexandra's lack of reply. And he didn't sound any different; even if just a minute ago, he had spoken about the most covert part of his life. Alexandra turned to look at him,

'What?' She asked back, idiotically, not realizing what he meant by "follow". Then she turned just in time to see the two adolescents, walking away, like two old friends. Ophelia had met Adam for about three times before. The easy way they were getting along, almost felt to Alexandra like watching the seventeen year old herself. And Ophelia was not her property - she had her own life and she could take her own decisions. 'At this age, Liam, what were you doing?' Alexandra asked him, her eyes fixed on Ophelia as the latter laced her fingers through Adam's - in a gesture that seemed much too intimate.

'Me?' He asked. 'I guess ... managing temper issues. Working to... consolidate power and win the people's support. Trying to stop blaming luck and complaining about unfairn- oh fine.' he said, abruptly. 'I see where you're headed, Alexandra.' Liam nodded, as the two open teenagers walked further into the wilderness of the garden. 'We both know what you were doing at seventeen. We never got a chance to savor those years. To contently sit on the crux of adulthood and enjoy youth. We never encountered rites of passage, infatuations, heartbreaks, friendships, affection. For us, it was one battle after another. Sometimes against ourselves, sometimes against a prejudiced society, against family. I think I agree that I forgot what it feels like to be young. It took Lia eleven minutes today. Tomorrow, if she's halfhearted, it will take twenty two. She is not dense or ignorant. Ophelia will find her own way. And in case she doesn't, she will make one.' He shrugged, turning to face her. 'As long as they are not eloping, I don't see why we should be the thorn in her path.'

'So...' Alexandra ventured, turning and crossing her arms. 'Do you thing we should follow them?'

Liam's expression, as he nodded absent-mindedly, was unreadable. Alexandra wondered if, even after the protracted speech he'd just given, he would insist upon spying after Ophelia. She didn't really want to: it would be rather cheap to do so. Either that, or excessively protective. Unexpectedly, he took both of Alexandra's hands in his, warming her to the tip of her toes.

'I'm afraid, Alexandra, that I'm falling for you.' Liam informed, with a captivating smile and his cheeks tinted red. The statement was completely unrelated to what Alexandra had asked, at the same time, nothing had ever made her feel more excited. 'I'm falling for you all over again.' He added.

'Daughter is managing her affairs well, so father decided to look after his own?' Alexandra asked, nodding with a smirk. She'd come here for a stroll. A little fresh air. But every time she was in a garden with Liam, Alexandra found something invaluable. Be it a purpose - in learning of the espionage council, or be it a simple assurance. The assurance she'd just got: no matter how many days, months and years rolled by; Liam's love for her wouldn't wilt.

'And you are silly.' He remarked, plainly, somehow succeeding in making even "silly" sound like a praise. 'If I couldn't stop loving you for the eleven years when we hardly met, when you were surrounded by tons of perfectly eligible, good-looking men - each of them better suited to you, in terms of occupation, way of living and age - than I could ever be,' Liam continued, tilting his head to the left, apologetically, 'then how could the very same love wither out, when you are in front of me, each day, in all your ethereal splendor?'

He had a special way with words.

The uncanny ability to make a person feel at the top of the world, with just a single sentence. But Alexandra wasn't feeling at the top of the world. 

'I might be silly,' she began, unhurriedly, 'but at least I do not indulge in self-disparaging. The men I was surrounded with were both younger and older. Eligible and good-looking, they were. But looking through my eyes, not half so much as you. Matching occupations and way of living matter. Yes, it was a big shift from bare rooms to looming Palace chambers, once again. From threadbare carpets to feathery bedspreads and quilts. But trust me Liam, when hearts don't match, marriage is simply miserable.' Despite the seriousness of her own words, Alexandra couldn't keep help smiling. Perhaps as a way of assurance, for the last thing she wanted was Liam to think that he hadn't been good enough for her. 'Age?' She almost laughed. 'Of all things, age? Are we animals? I was looking for a husband, in you. A supporter, a life partner. I was not looking for a mate. I wanted acceptance, love and friendship. And more than anything else, I guess we are just very old friends. Oh and old reminds me - do something about these,' she pleaded, pointing to his hair. 'They are close to Mahogany. You should look like you have got a twenty year old son!' She exclaimed, shaking her head. As funny as it seemed, Liam's inability to age was threatening to tip the scales over. It would be downright mortifying if, ten years from hence, Alexandra would become all old and wrinkled, but Liam would look the way he did right now. 

'I can't-' he began, rather helplessly. But then stopped abruptly, looking down and blinking. 'It is ten to twelve.' Liam declared, to nobody in particular, 'I just know it is, and - sorry, but I have to go - the Florandes diplomat would be here.'

Alexandra was, needless to say, outraged. 'At twelve?! Diplomat?!' She demanded, glowering. 'Something tells me it is a lady.' She added, making a wild, suspicious guess.

'Right - it is.' Liam agreed, nodding once, freeing his hands and turning away, almost as if he planned to sprint across the garden. Alexandra gave him a small push on the back.

'Go on. Enjoy,' she bade, merrily. Alexandra did trust him enough. And she was used to it: Kings had the oddest schedules. Diplomatic meetings were, anyhow, all sorts of bland, repetitive work. Maybe with a few interesting turns, if it was of two powerful, disagreeable kingdoms - but Florandes... not so much. There were times she marveled at how Liam hadn't cracked already. Other times when she wondered what it would be like, if they simply eloped. Leaving Heir, Florandes, King, Queen, crown, throne, Palace and all responsibilities behind. That was fanciful thinking: the closest thing to impossible Alexandra could think of.

'Enjoy, yes.' Liam nodded, looking wretched. 'You don't know the torture it is.'

'Go! You've wasted five whole minutes.' Alexandra reminded.

'Right,' he said, 'sorry - I guess this is what I meant from "way of living".' And then, without waiting for a reply, this time he actually bolted down the untamed garden lanes.

Alexandra watched his figure diminish until it was no longer visible. So, if everybody really met their match once in a lifetime, Alexandra wondered who Liam's match was. She was very sure that the person would not be their well-wisher or supporter.

And if not - if Liam was yet to meet him - then what utter destruction would such a person bring into their lives?