Perhaps it would be better, to not have a name for their relationship. To create a word for what may or may not be there. Wouldn’t it just complicate things? Well, she, for sure, had just complicated things. Of course she would have grown weak and stupid, of course she would ask the hard question. What did she even mean by it? Did he want to be together – together how? What does that imply? About her? About them? And how was he to answer without either causing harm or leading on the façade of a relationship – something that neither of them could truly partake in – could they?

The panic began to set in then, at first a building pressure in her chest, growing into a cacophony of voices yelling at her, screaming for her to run, to leave, to get out while she can. But she wouldn’t – or couldn’t? – do that. She would be weak. Stupid. She would be like every other mare. And, after all, what had she to fear from the FrostHeart? Rejection? She scoffed at the idea. After all, she was the Lady of the Basin. She was the Dark Empress. She had led them to glory, with the hope of gaining them still more.

And yet – why was her heart beating so inexplicably fast?

The balance was precarious – he trusted her, but then he did not trust her – not that she had ever truly given him reason to. She could hope that he would stand by her, remain at her side, support her, do all that her Bane was meant to do. And if she hoped for more, for some semblance of love or adoration, well, she wasn’t going to admit it. Not here, not now. Perhaps she could play off her question as luring him into the Lord position in the Basin. Perhaps she could say that was all she meant.

But that all depended on his answer, now, didn’t it?

His orbs seemed to see right through her, to her very soul; she had never felt more bare than she did in that moment. If he saw her for who she really was, why didn’t he laugh in her face and leave? Why didn’t he crush the shrivel of hope that dared show its face, throw it to the winds, shut her permanently behind that unbreakable wall that had been sealed for so long? Had it been fear that had kept her innermost thoughts locked away? Would it be fear that would send them back now? Or anger? Or would he answer her summons with a promise and leave her battered mind to recuperate from this strange conversation?

”We can be great together,” he said, and he leaned into her side. Perhaps another fae would have allowed that soft sigh to slip from her lips, but the Empress remained silent, offering only a long blink of the eyes as a sign of relief. They did not have to answer the difficult questions today. Perhaps they would never have to answer them, though a small part of her longed for it to be laid out, plain and simple. At least then she would know – and wouldn’t the knowing be better? "I know,” she said simply. "We will be great together, you and I.” A pause. "I believe this means that I should call you Lord Mauja,” she teased, and there was a hint of playfulness that spoke of her relief, of her tightly controlled joy (if one could even call it that). But in the syllables of his name, there was no joke, only that indescribable emotion.

"Talk talk talk."