Daryl hadn't been able to eat. He left Carol and headed to the Kingdom alone, needing some space to clear his head.

He'd never been good with words. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but that was hard to articulate in his head, let alone from his mouth.

He paced the garden, unable to keep still. He could hear the Kingdom's choir singing, and the noise grated him, interfering with his thoughts.

This place was so goddamn chirpy.

As he walked away from the noise and towards the theatre, it suddenly occurred to Daryl that he hadn't yet informed Ezekiel about Negan.

The King was seated on his throne, but stood when Daryl entered.

"Have you found her?" He bellowed.

"Yeah," Daryl chewed on his bottom lip, "she's good. She's with Henry."

"Wonderful," Ezekiel sat back down and beamed, "so tell me, Daryl. What brings you to the Kingdom?"

He tried to ignore the frustration that had begun to bubble. He hated this phony, corny act. He hated that Carol seemed to like it.

"Negan's back," he couldn't meet the King's eye, "Saviors musta got him out. But he wants to help."

"Negan?" Ezekiel stroked his chin as he paused. "I suppose the evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interrèd with their bones."

The frustration bubbled into anger.

"Ya gonna speak some goddamn English?"

Ezekiel smiled. "Oh but this is English, Daryl. The finest. It is Shakespeare."

He wasn't about to admit that he wasn't sure who Shakespeare even was, having dropped out of school at fifteen. He sure as hell wasn't going to let this poncy prick embarrass him.

"Ya gonna get to the goddamn point?"

Ezekiel continued to smile. "It means we often forget the good of our enemies. The war is over. Both sides committed unspeakable acts. If Negan wants to work with us, pray, I see no harm in that."

Daryl took a deep breath, trying to control his temper, and told the King Negan's plan.

Carol had played good cop at breakfast, feeding Lydia and playing nice in the hope the girl would talk about where she'd come from.

She'd gotten nothing.

Now it was time to play bad cop. Once she'd escorted the teenagers back to the Kingdom, where Lydia was placed in a cell. Dianne would be watching her, and was under strict instructions not to allow Henry to visit.

It pained Carol to lock up a child, and to separate the teenagers, but what else could she do?

Henry was livid.

"You can't do this!"

"It's for your own good," Carol reasoned, anguished that she was putting him through pain. It seemed as if all she could do lately was hurt the men in her life.

"Henry, please, listen to Carol,"

Ezekiel's voice startled her. She'd been trying not to think about him. She didn't know what she would tell him.

The teenager, furious that both adults were against him, ran off to the gardens.

"Leave him," the King embraced Carol, which she stiffly reciprocated. He pulled back, noticing the tears in her eyes. "Are you alright?"

She felt as if she was damned if she did and damned if she didn't. She wanted to confess it all - making love to Daryl, her feelings for him - but she couldn't bring herself to cause him all that pain. She didn't want him to look at her differently. An adulterer, a liar. Was that who she'd become?

She wished things could be easy and uncomplicated. Because it wasn't just hurting Ezekiel that she was afraid of. She had a life at the Kingdom. She had Henry. If she allowed herself to be with Daryl, would she be throwing all that away?

Truth be told, with Lydia's arrival Carol hadn't had a chance to think about what she wanted. There was only one thing she could say to Ezekiel.

"I'm fine," she forced a smile, falling back on the armor she used whenever she was unhappy: she acted as if everything was okay.

The sun was beginning to set, bathing the Kingdom in a dusky orange light. Daryl had still not seen Carol, and he'd tried to busy himself, working on Negan's plan.

He'd wanted signs placed around every community, reading the simple words: WE SEE YOU. He wanted the Whisperers to know they were watching, that they had allies everywhere, and that they weren't afraid.

Negan figured it would trigger one of two retaliations:

They'd make themselves known and negotiate with the communities.

They'd feel threatened and start a war.

Daryl hoped it'd be option one.

Understanding that he had terrible handwriting and even worse spelling, he roped Jerry into helping him make the Kingdom's signs, and the two were working together on the lookout point.

The sky grew darker, but Daryl could sense something. He could see a shape in the distance. He grabbed a pair of binoculars and took a closer look.

A group, made up of approximately 150 people, were marching towards the Kingdom.

Once Ezekiel had fallen asleep, Carol left their room, looking for Daryl. A few residents hadn't seen him, worrying her, but Nabila told her he was with Jerry.

As she headed to the lookout point, she heard a flurry of activity and saw Daryl, Jerry and the knights with their weapons raised, racing towards the entrance.

She followed them, trying not to panic. She could see a huge group of people waiting outside the gates. She didn't recognise them.

A woman, bald haired and hard faced, stood in front of the rest of the group. She sneered at the Kingdom, and demanded:

"Give me my daughter."

Carol felt sick. Lydia.

She'd known that girl was trouble. She surveyed the group, searching for options. They were heavily outnumbered.

"She's safe." Carol raised her voice, trying to exude confidence,though her body was shaking. "She came to us. We meant her no harm."

"Are you the leader?" the woman asked, smirking, as she stroked her machete. "I thought this was a Kingdom."

"I am the Queen." Carol reached for her pistol with trembling hands.

The bald woman laughed, leading ripples of it throughout the group. Carol's heart was pounding.

"Well, your highness," she mocked, "I don't think we've met. I'm Alpha," she motioned to her group, "and I believe you call us the Whisperers."

Her words sent a chill down Carol's spine. She wondered how long they'd been watching.

"Then you know we have allies," she kept her finger on the trigger, wondering how many she could take out, should the need arise.

"Oh, we've seen," Alpha mimed using her machete, "Remember the bridge?"

Daryl lunged forward, but Carol placed her hand on his arm, stopping him.

"We'll bring you Lydia," she tore her eyes away from Daryl's, "if you leave us in peace."

Alpha raised her eyebrows. "And what fun would that be?"

"We can work together, negotiate terms," Carol continued, "there doesn't need to be a war."

"Very well," Alpha holstered her weapon, "bring me my daughter, and we'll leave."

Carol nodded at Jerry, who went to retrieve the girl. While they waited, she looked at Daryl, remorseful that they hadn't yet spoken. She'd had time alone, to think, and had come to her decision.

Jerry soon came out with Lydia, who panicked as soon as she saw Alpha.

"No!" she begged, "please! Don't make me go back!"

Carol wondered why a daughter wouldn't want to return to her mother, but she couldn't ask. She wouldn't like the answer, and she needed to let her go.

Jerry dragged the screaming girl to the gates and opened them slightly, pushing her through. They watched as Alpha snatched her, motioning to the Whisperers to leave as she pulled her distraught daughter along.

Carol began to cry.

"C'mere," Daryl pulled her close to him.

She sniffled, "I should've known that's why she didn't want to talk. She was scared."

"Ya did what ya had to do."

She pulled her head away from Daryl's chest. He was always there for her. It was time to stop running.

"I guess we should talk."