Throwing an armful of folders down onto my already disastrous state of a desk I let out a long groan. "I'm going to quit."

Sasha leans on the doorway to my study with her arms crossed. She smirks as I pull off my heels and mimic stabbing them into the walls. 

"You can quit being a princess?" She questions. 

"I can try," I snap back rifling through a stack of leaflets. 

"I'm not entirely sure that's how that works," Sasha replies.

"Who are you to comment anyways? Last I checked you weren't me. Unless we switched bodies without my knowing." Seizing a handful of brochures I toss them into the bin. "My grandfather is pissing me off. If it weren't illegal I would abdicate."

Sasha's smirk turns downwards as she pushes off of the doorway to look at what I threw away. "Are those the medical pamphlets?"

"Yeah," I reply distractedly. Pressing the power button on my monitor a little too harshly. 

"What are you doing throwing them away?" She questions looking up at me. 

Her hair is done up in two braids today, the surface has frizzed from wearing her hood all afternoon giving her head an orange halo. Small curls have escaped the expertly woven braids and frame her face the way flowers decorate a tree in the spring. 

Such beauty deserves to be marveled at. Yet it is shut away in this ugly place. 

"My grandfather cut my contact with the doctors," I say waiting for my computer to boot up. "He told me to make peace with my grandmother's condition and spend my time saying goodbye."

"Goodbye?" She repeats confusion filling her words. "I thought he said she had another six months."

"He lied to us." I sigh. "I talked to her nurse and the doctor that comes once a week. She has a month at best." 

"Oh, Emmalyne," Sasha whispers, she takes a few steps towards me and begins to open her arms. 

I duck out of the coming embrace and push my face close to my screen to avoid the acknowledgment of my grief. "We don't need to talk about it."

Sasha stops short and peers down at me. "Emmalyne?"

"Hmm?" I reply not breaking my eye contact with the screen 

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes of course!" I say tapping my fingers against the desk quickly.

"Your voice is getting all high and squeaky." Sasha points out.

"Well I'm a little stressed about my work right now, I have a logistics meeting next week and I'm not exactly prepared." The words are spilling out of my mouth so quickly, I'm not comprehending anything else. Hoping that if I stress my duties at work enough Sasha will forget my Grandmother's condition just as I want to. 

"Great Daniel," Shasha mutters placing a hand on my lower back. "You're overworked." 

"That's not new," I say back flicking through all correspondences sent to me throughout the day. "The day I rest is the day my heir takes over. Even then I might not."

I pretend not to notice her nose wrinkle at the mention of me having heirs.

Sasha sighs and stands behind me. Her arms creep around my waist and her fingers interlock across my stomach. She places her chin on my shoulder, her breath tickling the side of my neck. I place my hands above hers sighing I look up and let my head rest against her collarbone.

"Maybe you don't work tonight," Sahsa says gently, whispering into my ear. 

"I can't do that," I whisper back. "Me not work. That's like you not breathing."

Sasha pauses a moment before speaking again. "If you don't work tonight I'll hold my breath."

A laugh escapes me and I bite my lip to keep myself from smiling too wide. "I can't ask that of you."

"Please," Sasha pleads. "Don't work tonight."

Taking a breath I look back down at the monitor. "Fuck it." Turning off the screen I lead Sasha away from the study. She flicks the lights off and closes the door as we leave. 

The curtains are still open and the sun is setting on the horizon. I shed the golden shawl I was wearing over my creme-colored jumpsuit. Standing in the middle of the room Sasha stares at me in the pink light. 

I stare right back.

Sasha's fingers run along the thin straps running over my shoders. The satin is smooth and I barely even feel the pressure from her fingers. Her index finger continues its journey down my chest, she traces the v-cut hem across my breast and lets her hand fall from my stomach. 

"What was that?" I ask softly once she removes her hand. 

"I don't know," Sasha shrugs.  "I just wanted to touch you."

My lips turn upwards. "Well then."

"What well then?" Sasha demands, a blush creeping up on her cheeks. 

"You have me," I begin, taking her hand and placing it back on my shoulder. "Now whatever are you going to do?"

Sasha fails to hide her haughty grin. "Christ Emmalyne."

Taking my own hand my fingers find her waist and cling there. "I don't want you to call me Emmalyne."

"Then what am I supposed to call you." Sasha's other hand has found my back and is tracing patterns against my spine sending shivers across my entire body. 

"Emma," I whisper, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Just Emma."

Her eyes meet mine for just a moment before mine flick to her lips. "Emma." She whispers. 

The way her lips move around the word name almost brings me to my knees. "Yes?" I whisper breathlessly. 

"Emma," She repeats. 

"Oh shut up," I whisper pushing myself up onto my toes so my mouth can reach hers. 

In a collision stronger than any word we just spoke my lips collide with her. Each movement just as new and as exciting as the first time we did this.

After what could have only been a minute, a series of high-pitched beeps fill the room making me jump out of my skin and stumble backward. 

"Shit," Sasha mutters as she quickly walks over to my seating area. Picking her mask up from a side table she places it over her face without locking it into place. 

Regaining my balance I run my fingers through my hair hoping it hasn't become too messy. "What was that?" I question. 

"You're not going to like this," Sasha removes the mask from her face, her expression unreadable. "You're being summoned."

"By who?" I ask, letting out a defeated sigh. 

"I don't know," She says sticking her face back in for a moment. "The summons is coming from Fulfillment Mansion."

Bobby. I cross my arms against my chest and point my nose in the air. "Absolutely not."

"You don't know it's him," Sasha says reading my thoughts. 

"Who else would it be?"

"It could be Her Highness the Duchess Geneive," Sasha suggests.

"Is that how all servants have to refer to her as?" I question in disbelief.

"We have to refer to you as Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess of Legibus, Emmalyne," Sasha says in a deadpan. 

"That's a lie," I call out. 

"Do I look like I'm lying?"

Scoffing I roll my eyes. "Nevertheless you can tell the deliverer of that summons that whatever issue has arisen it can wait until morning."

Sasha goes to replace her mask to relay my message but she hesitates and looks are me, her brows quirked. "You're sure? It might be important."

"It's Bobby."

"That's not- okay. Just know I don't agree with this decision," Sasha puts her mask up for a moment before she takes it back down.

"If it's really important they'll send an actual messenger," I say walking over to my bed and flopping down onto the neatly made covers. "Who is he to summon me anyways?"

Sasha walks over and throws herself down next to me. "A cretin?" 

Pondering her suggestion for a moment I let out a small laugh. "Cretin. I think you've summed it up perfectly."

Smiling back at me Sasha runs a finger down my arm. "Come here you."

"Oh gladly."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing is scarier than when a person is lying in bed with their illegal lover and a sudden round of pounding befalls their bedroom door. Not even their parlor door. The bedroom door. 

Sasha and I both bolt to a sitting position so quickly I worry for the condition of our spines. The fear in her eyes is real when we exchange a glance. 

"I'll keep whoever it is in the parlor for as long as I can," I say quickly. "How long do you need?"

Sasha is already pulling on the white button-down to her uniform. "A minute. Tops."

"I should be able to do that." 

Hurrying to my door I attempt to flatten my hair. Snatching the handle I open the door just wide enough to stick my head through. 

"What- I uh- Genie." Words fall out of my mouth before I can stop and control them. 

I can decide who looks more fraught with anxiety, Sasha in the room behind me or Genie in the parlor in front of me. 

"I knew trying to have you summoned to the house was a lousy idea," Genie says twisting pieces of her hair between her fingers. "You know that's where Bobby lives and I know you and him are on the best of terms but I didn't know where else to go-"

"Genie!" I say loudly cutting her off. "I need to you breathe and think before you speak again. I need to be able to understand what you're saying." 

Stepping out of the doorway I make sure to close the door behind me. I lead her to one of the green velvet couches in the parlor. She sits down and immediately pulls one of the pillows onto her lap. 

"Now," I start gently. "Can you please explain to me what's going on?"

Genie inhales and holds the air in. For at least ten seconds she doesn't speak. "I'm pregnant," she says in a quick exhale.

"Oh, that's wonderful," I say as a shred of fear exits my system. "There no reason for you to be-"

"I've been pregnant." She continues, talking over me. "For two months now."

"Two months." I hear myself repeat. My fingers twitch as I count off the weeks in my head. Gasping I choke on some hair and slap a hand to my chest. "You were pregnant at the wedding!"

"Keep your voice down!" Genie hisses.  

"Oh for the love of the saviors," I whisper, running my fingers through my hair. "The Court is going to throw a fit."

"Not if we don't tell them," Genie says quickly. "That's why I came. I need your help."

"How many others know?" I question pinching the bridge of my nose. 

"Just you, Bobby, and my physician," Genie replies. 

"Three people," I say. "You best keep that number consistent."

"Yes," Genie says quickly. "Of course."

"The first child to my generation," I mutter popping the knuckle to my index finger. "A bastard."

Genie stifles her cry of hurt. There are too many secrets and too many eggshells to walk on at the moment. I haven't the patience to hold my tongue. I snap at her. 

"Oh don't gasp like it isn't the truth!"

Tears well in her eyes almost immediately. 

"Shit- I mean. I'm sorry Genie. I didn't mean to shout. You've just dropped a bomb on me, I need a moment to process."

Nodding Geniee swallows her tears and stays quiet as I rub my temples. I begin to speak slowly. "It's just a month. Once we announce the pregnancy in a few months we'll leak to the press that you a Bobby got busy on your wedding night."

"Won't that cause a scandal?" She questions. 

"A small one yes. It's uncommon for members of the royal family to jump into bed so quickly but we can handle that. We wouldn't be able to handle the public's reaction to a bastard child."

"Oh," Genie says quietly. 

"I'm going to need you and Bobby to write up a plan," I say. "A play by play if you will, every action you're going to take, dates of when we release information to the public and what information that will be. I need you two to think of a solid lie that we'll be able to pull off without a hiccup."

"That's a lot of information to compile," Genie says biting her lip in apprehension. 

"Yeah, I know." I groan. "Once you have a solid foundation have it sent to me to review, then I will add some notes and make sure it's foolproof. Then we take this issue to the rest of the Court."

"And?" Genie prods. 

"And hopefully no one has a stroke or becomes banished." I sigh.

Genie's mouth falls open. "That's a possibility?" 

"It's never not one," I say, dread encroaching on my tone. 

"Emmalyne," Genie whispers. 

"Yeah?" I reply, looking up from my lap to her. 

"I'm scared." 

"Don't be," I say. "We'll figure this out."

"How?" Genie questions shaking her head. "How are you able to stay calm cool and collected, especially at a time like this?"

"It's my job." I smile. "I have to be able to keep a level head even when everyone else can't."

"Or what?" She cocks her head. 

Or the people I care about get hurt. 

"Let's hope I never have to find out, yeah?" I smile. 

"Yeah." Genie agrees.