I move on to the next piece of parchment in the pile and look it over. It is a list of the repairs that need to be done to the boundary walls and the roads, in order of most to least important.

I look up at Ling sitting at the other desk. She is frowning as she writes something down.

"You do not need to do this," I say, showing her the piece of paper. "In fact, as I have said many times before, you do not need to be doing anything this close to the baby coming."

She looks up from the desk and arches an eyebrow. "And what should I be doing instead?" she asks. "Lying in bed, anxious and worried about pushing this baby out?"

She rubs her hand automatically over her swollen belly. When she puts it in that way, I can understand the need to do something. I just do not want her to exhaust herself.

Sighing, I stand and walk over to give her a kiss. "Thank you," I murmur against her lips, kissing her again. "I appreciate all of your help."

"Yes, you should," she grumbles, but there is a smile on her face she tries to hide.

"At least use your footrest," I admonish, sliding it under her feet.

She sighs, leaning back in the chair. "Thank you."

"Do you want to come to the meeting?" I ask, pushing her hair back from her face.

"I am too tired," she admits. "I may nap."

She must be drained indeed if she will skip a meeting. She always wants to know everything and be up to date on all the news.

"Let me help you."

"No, I can—"

I ignore her, pulling her chair back and lifting her easily in my arms. Even so heavily pregnant, she is small. Not at all difficult to lift.

She sighs, wrapping her arms around my neck and snuggling against me, settling in easily. "I can walk," she says into my tunic.

I smile. "Yes, but allow your poor Pari to do this for you," I say, humoring her.

Back in our bedchamber, I lay her down carefully on the bed. By the time I have taken off her slippers, she is already asleep. Shaking my head at her stubborn nature, I cover her legs lightly as recently she has been complaining about being hot.

I stare at her pretty face for a moment. Everything is peaceful for now, though I worry about what the future will bring. Change is inexorable, but as I have found out firsthand, it does not come easily. If Malathin and Franean had been smarter about their plan, taken more time to execute it well and been leaders others would more likely flock to, they may very well have succeeded.

And that is a frightening thought indeed.

I kiss Ling softly on the forehead before leaving the bedchamber, gently closing the door behind myself so as not to wake her. I walk over to the meeting, thinking about everything that can still happen to disrupt the peace. When I enter the room, my gaze scans over the original members and pauses on the new additions.

The lead guard who ordered Malathin to be brought out at House Saren is now Prince of that House. Not a surprise to anyone who was there.

I nod at Prince Tharefus and he nods back, in conversation with the male next to him, Prince Walor, the new leader of House Caffaar. Not knowing how to pick a new Prince for Caffaar, we decided to ask the survivors of the House to nominate someone.

It was Ling's suggestion.

Surprisingly, there was only one name that came up consistently.

Walor.

So far, he and Tharefus have proven to be level headed and practical but only time will tell if they harbor beliefs that run counter to ours. The addition of House Caffaar and House Saren has been a coup. Not only did we lose two enemies, we gained two allies.

A win indeed.

As I sit down at the head of the table, the noise level slowly quiets.

"Let us begin with the Houses involved in Malathin and Franean's ill conceived plan and those that allowed it to happen when they could have at least passed word to us. Do we have any more additions?"

"House Githura. Malathin attempted to recruit them."

I nod, adding the House to our list. The Houses that were not directly involved but did nothing are still not invited into our alliance unless and until a change in leadership occurs and they reach out to us, we would rather not deal with Houses not willing to stop an injustice when they can. We have already turned down two Houses for this very reason.

"Any more?" I ask, looking around the table.

Negative murmurs.

"Perhaps we have weeded out all the rats," Elorshin suggests.

"Perhaps. But we should keep our eyes and ears peeled for any information to the contrary." Everyone agrees on that front. "We need to take this one step further," I add, meeting each male's eyes. "I do not want people to think that we stand for ourselves alone. Greed and selfishness were the causes of this mess in the first place." I pause as I truly consider that truth. "I move that we declare war on anyone who attempts to harm another person's Pari—whether or not the aggrieved parties are members of our Houses."

"It is not our role to police the entire Alvan race," one of the older Princes murmurs.

"I agree."

"I as well."

I nod, expecting some argument on this front. "It may not be our responsibility," I agree. "However, making this world safe for others also makes it safer for us. And it will send a strong message to the Houses who have not yet joined." I spread my hands. "That would only make us stronger." I look around again. "Perhaps we should vote?"

Assent all around to that method of deciding. When we count, it falls where I had hoped it would. War will be declared on anyone who dares to use Paris as pawns. We are already economically strong and we have shown strength in battle. Now we shall take a stand for those who cannot stand for themselves.

We move on to more mundane topics after that.

As we conclude yet another meeting, I ponder how many I have sat through now. How far we have come that even our meetings are now well oiled machines. It is a thought that instills pride in me, but that is also sobering. We have a responsibility now. One that I want to honor.

As soon as the meeting is over, I move on to other tasks required in the House, having put off anything that would require me to move too far. With Ling so close to labor, I do not want to be somewhere else when the babe decides to come. On that thought, after I finish up in the marketplace, I move on to the border wall to speak to my guards, wanting to see how our new ones are doing with their training.

As I watch two of them demonstrate their still somewhat clumsy sword skills, something moves out of the corner of my eye. Frowning, I glance below the wall, my eyes falling on a young messenger weaving his way in and out of the crowd. He is coming from the House Mansion.

"I must go," I say, turning and running without waiting for a response.

Heart beating fast, I intercept the messenger before he is even through the marketplace. "Do you have a message for me?" I ask, my hands coming down to his narrow shoulders.

His eyes are wide as he nods. "It is Princess Ling. Vareela says the baby is coming."

I nod, my stomach falling as I step around him and start to run. The baby is coming. Everything that could go wrong with childbirth runs through my mind as I close the distance between myself and the House Mansion.

The danger is real, and not one I can protect Ling from.

Almost wild, I run in through the front door to find the servants in a flurry of motion. "Where is Ling?" I demand.

"The bedchamber!" the cook responds, pointing at the same time.

Turning, I run to the room but as I reach for the doorknob, I see my trembling hand and stop myself. I cannot run inside in a panic. Ling needs me to be strong.

Stepping back, I close my eyes and take some long, deep breaths. I can do this for her. If she can go through this ordeal, I can be the rock by her side. More calm, I open the door and step inside.

"Naefaren!" Ling calls out when she sees me, her face shining with effort as she lays on the bed.

I rush over to her side, taking her hand. "I came as soon as I heard," I say, kissing her cheek. "What can I do?"

"Stay up there and please try not to faint." I turn at the voice to find Vareela, the midwife. I do not take offense at her no nonsense tone.

She even helped me into the world after all.

"I will not faint," I say firmly.

She looks up at me with a slight smile, obviously not agreeing but refusing to argue with me.

"Do not look down. Stay with her please."

I open my mouth to argue, but then see blood and quickly look away. Perhaps she is right.

"I waited to tell you," Ling says as she calms for a moment. "I didn’t want you to rush over here when I wasn’t close."

I shake my head. "You should have called for me. I do not care if I have to sit here for longer," I admonish. "There is nothing more important to me than you and this babe."

She smiles at me, but then squeezes her eyes shut as another fit overtakes her. I watch helplessly at how hard she squeezes my hand and know she must be in terrible pain. I talk to her in a low voice as she pushes, telling her I love her, attempting to support her in any way I can.

"I am not having another baby," she gasps out, her body twisting.

"Absolutely not," I agree. "I cannot go through this again."

She laughs, but then groans again.

"Almost there," Vareela calls out. "You are doing wonderfully!"

The next few moments are horrifying and then abruptly miraculous as the mewling cries of an infant fill the air. I meet Ling's exhausted eyes. "You did it," I murmur, kissing her on the lips. "You did it."

"Is the baby healthy? Is it a boy? A girl?" she asks, tilting her head down to look.

I step toward Vareela as she cleans off the baby. "Congratulations," she murmurs, handing me the still somewhat messy bundle. "You have a baby girl. A very hale and hearty one." She beams.

"A girl," I murmur, my heart filling as I take in her perfect face, pale like her mother's. But her hair is a deep purple, just like my own. "She is perfection," I say in awe, turning so Ling can see her.

"Oh," she gasps, holding out her arms.

I place the precious bundle in them carefully, worrying at how fragile her slight weight is.

"Oh, she is gorgeous," Ling says, tears streaming down her face.

"Yes," I agree, caressing her plump cheek with the back of one finger. "She takes after her mother."

Ling laughs, turning into the kiss I give her as the baby fusses. She pulls back to look down at our daughter, her face glowing even through the exhaustion.

"I want ten more," she murmurs, absorbed in counting fingers and toes. "Maybe eleven."

"Absolutely," I agree.