Three hours later, the plan was finalized. Duke William and Harper departed as quietly as they had arrived.

Alice stepped out for the third time to liaise with the eastern guards.

Martin addressed Charles, "Mr. President, you should try to rest."

Though sleep eluded him, Charles did not want or need his subordinates to see his vulnerability and fears. With a nod, he acquiesced, "Alright."

Emily spoke up, "I'll stay with you. There's something I need to discuss."

Seasoned and perceptive, Martin had already picked up on the undercurrents. Upon hearing this, he promptly excused himself under the pretense of other matters.

Now alone, Charles felt a twinge of unease. "What is it?"

"You've set the plan for tomorrow," Emily spoke slowly, as if weighing her words. "I'm not fully recovered and not entirely sure of my abilities."

Charles reassured her, "I know. All I need is a bit of a stall, even if it fails. I plan to negotiate directly with Dalton. Don’t worry too much."

Emily paused, bringing up an earlier topic, "Were you serious when you said if I helped you win, you’d propose marriage?"

There was a lightness in her tone that Charles didn’t detect. Feigning composure, he replied, "If you're agreeable..."

"Then why not tonight?" She sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Charles frowned, his response instant. "That's ridiculous!"

"Listen to me," she implored.

"This isn’t up for debate,” he retorted, firm in his decision. "Absolutely not."

Emily had already considered the pros and cons, speaking with measured calm, "My injuries hinder me against Dalton, and training doesn’t happen overnight. This is the only way to give myself a better chance."

Charles hadn’t anticipated this line of reasoning but stood firm. "Marriage is a serious commitment. Even privately, we need to take it seriously. I cannot agree to something so flippant." The idea of marrying without formal proceedings, even under exceptional circumstances, disrespected both her and their affection.

"And what of our lives? Even if we might both die, would you still hold firm?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said. Success gives me a fifty percent chance, failure gives me, at most, ten." She extended her hand toward him. "Charles, I beseech you, promise me that you'll make it up to me in the future. Without your promise, we might both perish."

Charles was at a loss for words. The choice was clear given the stakes, albeit painful. But in leadership, despite the heartache, sometimes difficult decisions must be made. 

His throat constricted, he extended his hand slowly, enveloping her fingertips in his own. "I'm sorry..."

Emily brushed off his apology with a smile, "Don’t be. I want this, though you don't seem too eager." 

A touch of incongruent joy flickered in Charles's heart at her unabashed smile. "Are you truly willing?"

"Ask me again, and I might change my mind," she teased.

Charles chuckled, settling beside her and clasping her hand tightly. "Fear not, today I fail you, but I vow never to fail you again."

Emily stifled a giggle, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his lip. Then, with a sweep of her hand, the curtains drew close by an unseen force, cocooning the bed in a private world.

The makeshift canopy soon ignited with scattered glows, resembling a celestial expanse.

Clothing loosened, though not his, Charles watched, entranced by this subtle magic. Emily guided him onto the bed, whispering from above, “Close your eyes.”

Yet he refused to shut them.

Emily chuckled softly, and he barely caught her movements as the moon-white dress slipped away, revealing skin as pristine as frost.

Ancient words echoed: “Tonight, hearts join, creating pathways through mist-laden peaks. Under a dew-kissed willow, flowers tremble; love blooms intensely.”

***

The moon ascended its zenith.

Charles stirred to rise, but Emily pressed him back down, “Sleep a bit longer.”

“I can’t sleep.” Ignoring her plea, he arose, draping her with a robe. “Mind the chill.”

Though she wasn’t cold, Emily accepted his gesture, securing the cloth around her as she sat cross-legged to meditate. Her energy shifted and transformed.

Spiritual energy pooled, interspersed with threads of crimson and violet coursing through her, embedding itself into muscle and bone while her powers retained their full presence. Her core seemed an iridescent lake, shimmering with subtle radiance by the time Emily opened her eyes to the room flooded with morning light.

Charles was seated at a nearby chair, sipping tea, his eyes warm. “Awake?”

“Yes.” Slipping into her embroidered shoes, she approached, touching his cheek. “Are you alright?”

Taking her hand, Charles replied, “Very.”

“That’s good.” Emily felt reassured, achieving a balance that favored both of them.

Charles queried her, “And you?”

A dazzling smile spread on her face, “I’m great. Wait for my return.”