I think Remorse wanted me to find the Pantheon. I'll never understand Imminent, not fully. Lucas assured me it's impossible to unravel it all without touching Cascading Light.

Little you snores inside your pillow fort while Preteen you sits across from me with attitude written all over your posture. No one messes with this twelve-year-old girl. It's enough to make me smile.

"Try not to worry about Imminent. They're gone and what remains will bite the same dust."

You win. How could I not smile at that? I'll need it, too.

Do you have a question for me before I move on, Rayne?

You ask the most precocious question. "What did you steal from L. Capra, Cap'n?"

Your question makes me grin.

They inspired me to bury the stronghold using the same technology Razor had used to carve out the Queen's Fare. And a few artifacts on display. Which you can come and see when you're ready.

"I hope to, Superman. Carry on."

With all the anxiety, I'd needed a shower to help me with the tension.

Alone.

It sounded awful, but my head space wouldn't make for the best company. Tameka was beautifully understanding. With my pirate days behind me, I slipped my frock into the closet and hopped into a clean pair of pajamas, certain the rest of the Shadow was doing the same. A glimpse of myself in the mirror left me staring.

No lines. No gray hairs. Nothing to denote the lives I'd lived. The damage I'd taken. Caused. Repaired.

I'd never felt so old.

Our bedroom was in a wing of the stronghold with Pax's and some other amenities for the imperial suites. With a sigh, I left the bedroom for a sitting room, where I found a visitor.

"Tameka let me in," Korac explained. He was spread across the chaise, reading one of my first editions. As I entered, he licked his fingers and turned a page. "You got a minute, your imperial majesty?"

I wanted to groan, but that would admit defeat. Instead, I folded my arms and leaned in the doorjamb. Yes, I made certain my unbuttoned pajama top gaped. "What do you want, General?"

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Korac glanced up, licked his fingers, and turned another page with a patronizing bob of his head. "So, out in the study it's 'my general,' but here in private..."

"Here, in my private quarters, I expect you to answer your Co-Emperor's demands."

That.

Smirk.

"Careful." Korac folded the corner of a page, marking it, before closing the book and leveling his glittering eyes at me. "You're starting to sound like Nox."

That stung.

With a sigh, Korac stood and crossed the space, saying, "It's a low blow, I know, but you two are more similar than you think. Still..." He majestically folded to his knees, put his fist to his chest, and gazed up at me with white eyes I'd seen in this position before. Smirking, he asked, "Can you forgive me?"

I swept by him, not willing to fall into this trap. Recovering the book, I'd found the crease in the folded page was permanent. Tired, I repeated, "What do you want, Korac?"

When he chuckled behind me, I nearly threw the book at his head. Again, that would mean I'd conceded the game to him, and I refused to lose. So imagine my irritation, when I turned and found him leaning in the doorway with his arms folded as if schooling me on how to do it properly. I could never pull off the 'bad boy' image.

Korac said, "Sagan has kept me from saying anything in the study, so I'll tell you here in private. You mishandled the situation with Celindria from the start, and I know you. I know you are fully aware of your shortcomings." He gave a little shrug, admitting, "I want to understand better. Celindria told you she'd felt nothing, so you pitied her and shouldered that responsibility. But then you didn't contain her, knowing she was missing a conscience—"

"And the other Progeny paid for it—"

"All of Cinder paid for it. Some of humanity, too." Korac was never this animated outside of the bedroom. Even with his arms crossed, frustration signaled in the movement of his hands and the tightness of his brows. "I'm not even including the fallout. Nox and I took full responsibility for our cruel invasion strategies. But Xelan..."

Now Korac had my attention. He never used my name like that. My General asked, "Did you ever wonder why Celindria kept insisting she wanted emotions when she readily referred to them as a weakness—"

"To feel!"

I'd lost.

The frustration and exhaustion overtook me, and some part of me was protective of what I'd borne in Celindria. "Her biology allowed for a window into a world of warmth and pain, but forgot to provide a door into it. She knew what emotions were like enough to crave more of the sensations and fulfillment. Dopamine, serotonin—All the endorphins. The relief after a good laugh or the cleansing purity of a good cry—Celindria wants it all."

A hush fell between us.

No.

What had I said?

The almost invisible narrowing of Korac's eyes told me I'd slipped. He disguised it by looking me over and asking, "When was the last time you'd slept?"

I couldn't answer his question. I can't—I don't...

"Shh... I know, superman." You lean forward and boop your forehead to mine. "You don't have to say. I know you haven't slept since before Ishkur."

How did you... But of course, you'd know. You're in here with me.

"I'm always with you." I kiss your forehead, and you smile at me as you relax back on the couch. You ask, "What happened with Korac?"

I brushed by my General to return to my study. Behind me, he called, "You never learned to manage it. Not completely." It wasn't a question, and therefore, did not require my answer. Let him have his assumptions. I had better things to do.