It was well into the afternoon before Regis had the chance to step away. Discussion had continued in earnest for hours, though following Hamon's suggestion of a trap, all members of the council had been swayed in a different direction. What followed was less debate and more planning, until the inevitable decision was made:

They would set a trap for General Glauca.

It only remained to decide what the bait would be.

Reina was extraordinarily quiet and still through the entire court session. When they finally recessed, she walked hand in hand with him from the throne room and down the hall to the elevator.

"What are you thinking about, my dear?" Regis asked her.

"Hm?" She looked up at him, as if pulled from her thoughts by his words.

"You have been silent all day. I merely wondered what thoughts occupied you through court and beyond."

"Oh," she said. "I am thinking of many things, Father. Are you going to catch the bad man?"

"That is our intent. Only time will tell if we will be successful."

"Maybe I will Dream of it."

"Perhaps you will," Regis agreed. Indeed, he was hoping that tonight's expedition into the In-Between would bring new insights on the coming invasion.

"And I'll have my watch!" She held out her hand, proudly displaying the little watch as it ticked away.

"You must remember to wind it," Regis cautioned.

"Mr Scientia told me it will wind itself." Reina inspected the little watch critically. "I just have to wear it and walk around."

She swung her arms in exaggerated arcs, taking giant steps, which still amounted to half of Regis'. He chuckled. He swung his hand back and forth with her, matching his steps to hers, however slow it made their pace. The Royal Quarters were not going anywhere.

They reached the lift at the same time Noctis, Ignis, and Crea did, and shared an elevator going up. Noctis had dirt smudged from the knee down, and streaks of mud on his face, but he beamed up at Regis as the doors closed.

"There's a striped cat in the gardens, Dad!" He said.

"A new one?" Regis raised his eyebrows.

"Yup! Ignis couldn't catch it. It scratched him."

Regis glanced down at Ignis, who displayed his hands and arms to show several angry red marks from elbow to wrist.

"That does not seem the sort of cat one should play with," Regis said.

"It just didn't like Ignis," Noctis shrugged, unconcerned about the state of his retainer's arms. "It liked me plenty fine."

Regis cleared his throat. "Yes, well. See that you have those scratches looked after, Ignis."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

Regis looked toward Crea, who was trying not to laugh at him. He sighed and put on his best long-suffering face.

"Leave it to you to be worried about them playing with a cat." The laughter won. It spilled out while she spoke and thereafter.

Regis folded his arms over his chest. "It has bloodied Ignis' arms! It could have all manner of diseases, and if it had bitten Noctis—"

"He might get rabies?"

"He might!"

Crea grinned and ducked her head.

"I do not appreciate being made a fool of," Regis said.

"Then I promise to only make fun of you in private."

The doors opened. Crea patted his elbow and walked past him.

Noctis glanced between the pair of them before leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially in Reina's ear: "Dad likes Miss Crea!"

"Shh!" Reina hushed him sharply. She caught Regis' eyes on her and giggled.

"Miss Crea likes Father back," she whispered in return.

Regis sighed and followed Crea out of the elevator. It was a conspiracy. And conspiracy against the king practically amounted to high treason. They should both have been buried in stuffed animals and forced to undergo corporal cuddling. This was not how he had imagined his afternoon meeting with Crea going.

He caught up with Crea in the lounge, leaving Reina and Noctis to do whatever it was that nine year olds would do when left unsupervised. Hopefully it involved bandaging Ignis' arms.

"I apologize for putting you through court this morning," Regis said in an undertone. "I hope it was not too trying for you."

Crea shrugged one shoulder. "It was fine. Though I expect your decision to seat me with the council will have tongues wagging behind closed doors."

"It may very well. I am more concerned, at the moment, over your well-being. The last time I forced you to put yourself before my courtiers you were… upset."

Crea stared at him for a moment, confusion on her face. "At your birthday celebration? Regis that was years ago. Nearly seven, if I'm remembering correctly. I couldn't have been much older than twenty-one or twenty-two, and this job was the first time I had been in charge of anything more important than seeing that the babies were fed when they cried. But afterward I spent a few years in charge of the two most important children in Lucis, with—extraordinarily—the king himself taking my advice. Following that, as you might expect, I was highly sought after."

"Yes, I suppose it has been some while." Regis hesitated. He had expected that, if nothing else, Crea would have been holding back whatever distaste she had for the situation, and that it would come out in full once he spoke to her outside of court. Instead she was not upset at all.

What had he really been expecting? That by putting her into an uncomfortable situation, she would come running back to his arms? If he had, he was more a fool than he realized.

"And you have grown a great deal," Regis added, somewhat sheepishly.

"Adversity does that."

"I, meanwhile, have remained much the same."

She gave him a curious little smile. "I don't think so. Someday something will happen that will make you look back and realize that you have changed."

"Perhaps," Regis said. He had, at least, made a potentially life-changing decision regarding Reina's magic, in spite of the Gods' apparent will to the contrary.

"I'd better go see that Ignis is alright."

"Crea—"

She stopped mid-step and looked back at him.

"You looked lovely today, in that gown. I—"

"Don't, Regis." Her voice was tight—just a bare whisper quivering with warning. "You'll only make things worse."

He sighed. "Yes, I suppose I will."

He turned his head down and she walked away, very much a different woman to who she had been seven years before. But the heart was still there. The core that he had fallen in love with was still blazing underneath. Somehow, the fact that she refused to fall into his arms again only made him want her to that much more.

They whiled away what remained of the day. Regis stayed in the lounge with his children while Ignis took on the task of tutoring them, given that their regularly scheduled school hours had been delayed for court. If this was to become a regular thing, they would need to find some other way of dealing with it. Ignis had responsibilities and classwork of his own; he could not be expected to fill in whatever spare time Reina had with schooling. But that was a worry for another time.

For now, Regis' mind dwelled more often than not on the night to come. While word came and went from the upper levels with plans being made and ideas discussed, Regis found his eyes drifting toward Reina. It was terrible to hope that she would see the future for the good of Lucis. That was precisely what he had been trying to protect her from in the first place. He would not use her as a tool for the kingdom, however tempting it may have been.

But if this plan of Clarus' with the watch truly worked—if spending more time with Regis in court and council allowed her to see more important events—how could he not use that? She had, after all, been the one to ask for this in the first place. And even Crea agreed it was good for her. Perhaps he was being too protective.

The struggle waged beneath his stoic exterior for what remained of the afternoon, through the evening, and up until the twins' bedtime. He sent them to get ready and pulled Crea aside once more.

"I should like, if possible, to transition them back to sleeping in their own beds," he told her in hushed tones once the twins were away.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to get tired of them." Crea smiled, teasing.

"I am not. I merely think it would be in their best interests if they were to have their own rooms once more. And—alright, yes—it would be very nice to have some sliver of privacy back in my life."

Crea stifled a laugh. Regis waited until she had recovered enough composure to advise him instead of laugh at him.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do. They'll have to be moved together. Noct won't move out without Reina, you know, and his presence certainly gives her an extra layer of security. Thankfully, Reina has been making good progress lately, and I think this new development with her Dreams may help even more. It gives her some confidence to feel as if she's doing something useful. And—I might add—entirely on her own. I gather that you have not been able to help her find these Dreams."

"No. That is beyond my power. I might follow her into the In-Between, for a time, but she would be guiding me. I doubt very much that I would have any insight to add to what she had already learned."

"Frustrating as that may be for you, I think it's good for her," Crea said. "This way, when she makes progress, she can't help but admit it was her doing."

"I had not considered," Regis said slowly. He smiled. "This is why we needed you back."

She gave him a long-suffering look. "Yes. Honestly, I don't know how you managed without me."

Regis opened his mouth to retort, but she only laughed. He sighed, smiling again. It was impossible to be indignant about her teasing.

"I ask myself the same every day," he said. "In any case, you will think on this?"

"I will."

"Thank you, Crea." He resisted the urge to lean in and kiss her cheek or touch her hair. He contented himself with a grateful nod before turning to join his children in his bedroom.

He found them both in bed already, Noctis tucked up properly with Cat the Cactuar and Reina sitting cross-legged beside him, running her fingers along the case of her new watch. She looked up when Regis entered, beaming.

"I'll Dream tonight, Father," she said, no question about it.

"I hope you will, my dear," Regis said as he seated himself on the edge of the bed beside her. "But you must remember that even if you cannot find that future again, you have already given us a great advantage."

She considered him for a moment, mouth and brow both twisted. Then she said, "I'll Dream it."

He smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead, smiling. "Then let us begin."

Falling into the In-Between was simple for her now. That, at least, was something she had gained control over in the months of searching for the future. He didn't need to hold her back with his magic during her waking hours anymore, and even while she slept she had scant need of his help. Now she curled up beside him and let go of consciousness on her own.

He felt her magic flow out from her body and pass through the veil into the In-Between. And he waited. Last night he had not been present to observe what occurred when she truly Dreamed, instead of merely staying in the In-Between. He had sensed the difference in her magic, true enough, but at the time he had been less concerned with the technicalities of the process and more concerned with waking his daughter. Now, at least, he could watch the entire process.

If she Dreamed.

The seconds ticked by on her wristwatch. The previous night she had Dreamed mere minutes after he had settled down to work in the other room. Ten passed. Fifteen.

Doubt nibbled at the edges of his consciousness. Would he be able to recognize if she was in a Dream? Certainly, he had in the past, but then only because she was in great distress. If she Dreamed of a future in which Niflheim's attack was already anticipated and planned against, would she display any outward signs of Dreaming at all?

Twenty minutes passed. Then thirty. He found himself wondering how much time she could experience in a single minute. Both in Tenebrae and last night she had given him at least an hour's worth of information when he had woken her only a minute after. If he allowed her to Dream the full hour—if she truly was Dreaming—then she could be stuck in another time and place for weeks. Months, even. It was disorienting enough for her to wake and learn that the past hour of her life had never occurred. How much worse would it be the longer he allowed her to Dream?

And yet, if he pulled her out too early, they might lose crucial information.

He shifted in place. Reina slept, to all appearances, peacefully. Her magic was steady and calm, stretched across the veil.

Forty minutes passed and Regis made up his mind.

"Reina, my dear, wake up." He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, calling to her with voice and magic.

She stirred immediately, not like she had done the night before; her body tensed, her face scrunched, and she let out a little whine before opening her eyes to look up at him. She furrowed her brow.

"Was than an hour?" She asked.

"Nearly," Regis said.

Or two-thirds of an hour which, to his mind, had seemed more than long enough.

"Did you Dream?" He asked, though by then he had already guessed the answer.

She shook her head, crestfallen. "Nothing pulled me out of the river, Father."

"I see." He kept his face and voice clear of disappointment as he stroked her hair, though a dark resignation was settling over him. "No matter, little Princess. You have done wonderfully already."

"You are not upset?"

"No, my dear." He smiled sadly down at her. His little girl, still so worried about upsetting him. Would that she worried more about herself. "Remember that any glimpse of the future you give me is a great gift. I would never dream—if you'll pardon the expression—of asking for more from you. What you give is more than enough."

She smiled more brightly and deeply, though it was broken by a huge yawn. Regis smiled, pulling the blankets back around her shoulders and leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

"Now sleep, little Princess. You have had a very long day."

And so, come to think of it, had he. Two long days without a break in between. He was pushing on toward forty-eight hours of consciousness and, while nights without rest were not uncommon to him, once the hope and rising panic had faded into disappointment and relief—the latter being the stronger—the weight of both days settled down on his shoulders. It was high time he followed his own advice. He would worry about Niflheim in the morning.

He managed to pull his suit off before falling into bed beside his children. With the two of them in his arms it took not a minute before blank sleep took him.

The morning followed their new usual pattern; Crea joined them for breakfast and Reina seemed in high spirits. She talked and laughed with Noctis, kicking her feet under the table and tried everything on her plate indiscriminately.

Clarus arrived as the meal was being cleared away. He raised his eyebrows at Regis: so much meaning crammed behind a simple expression. Regis shook his head, keeping the gesture small so as not to draw attention to their nonverbal conversation. He tapped his finger to his lips. The last thing he wanted was Reina getting the impression that they expected her to Dream. There had been hopes, certainly, but it was best to keep those quiet. She had done well even to glimpse this event once.

Clarus cleared his throat and glanced down the table. "I'm afraid I must announce that I did not bring Iris with me this morning."

Reina's head snapped up and a frown formed on her lips.

"I know the is one of the days she is meant to come play," Clarus said, glancing back toward Regis. "But I was not certain if you wanted Reina in court with you today, Regis."

Something he, himself, had not even considered. Regis sighed, looking at Reina's pout. Clarus was right in saying an education in Lucis' government would behoove her in the future. Furthermore, keeping her nearby so as to ensure she Dreamed any events of significance was a tempting possibility. But at the same time she was only nine. And he had already sworn not to use her.

"If not, it's a simple enough matter to ask Fidelia to bring her here," Clarus said.

"Which would you prefer, little Princess?" Regis asked. "Would you rather play with Iris or come with me? I have some tasks that must be done—meetings I must attend in light of future events."

"How long?" She asked.

"A few hours, perhaps. I will limit them to the strictly necessary and carry out the remainder from upstairs, if you wish."

Reina considered. Last spring she would never have allowed him out of her sight for even a few hours—nor would she have been open to the idea of attending council with him.

"I want to play with Iris," she said at last.

Regis' stomach lurched as if the floor had dropped out from under him. When had she ever chosen not to stay with him, when given the option, save when she had put Noctis' own wants ahead of hers?

Regis patted his lips with his napkin to hide his stunned silence.

"Of course, my dear," he said when he had regained enough of his composure to do so. "Clarus, if you would be so good."

"Of course, Your Majesty. Your Highness." He bowed to each of them and stepped out to contact his wife.

"And with that, I fear I, too, must be away," Regis rose from his place and rounded the table to give both his children a hug and a kiss. "I leave you in Miss Crea's capable hands until I return."

The day passed too quickly, with too many things to accomplish in too little time. Scouts had been posted off Cape Shawe and the whole Citadel was tense waiting for news of Niflheim's fleet. Meanwhile, they made hasty plans to lure the imperial general from the capital. The trouble was determining what bait would draw him.

"As I see it, if we intend to catch the big fish, we will need some tempting bait of our own," Aldebrand said as they sat around the council table in a closed-door meeting. "It will take more than the promise of destruction to bring him out of hiding."

"That's why we must make at least some of our movements known. If Niflheim expects a resistance, they will send their general to meet it."

"Or they will simply not attack there at all. Unless we give him something he cannot resist."

"I have a suggestion, if I may," Hamon said. "Though I have no doubt that everyone will object. There is but one thing I can think of that General Drautos has shown great interest in."

His eyes travelled the length of the table and settle on Regis.

"That being my life?" Regis asked.

"Just so, Your Majesty," said Hamon. "And while using the king as bait may be highly unorthodox, it is a suggestion that needs to be made."

And no one but Hamon was bold enough to do so. Regis nodded at him. "It is an idea that bears considering."

"Perhaps as a final resort," Clarus said. "Regardless, I cannot condone it."

"We have an uncertain amount of limited time, Clarus," Regis said. "How long will we labor over this issue before a decision is made? The bait must be set and the information spread all the way to Niflheim's informants before the time of their attack if our trap is to work. So far it is the only plan on the table with any hope of success."

"It may be possible," Hamon said, "To use His Majesty as a lure without placing him in danger. It is, as you have observed, the information that matters. If Niflheim has word that King Regis will be in Cape Shawe—whatever the reason—that should be all that is necessary. He need not actually go there."

"Perhaps," Clarus agreed, "But Niflheim has spies everywhere in the Outlands. If we spread this news, they may change their plans to attack while Regis is present. And then they would wait for his arrival. We would need a convincing decoy, at the very least, for this plan to work."

"Then we will build a decoy," Aldebrand said. "Meanwhile, let news of His Majesty's visit to the Cape be spread."

And so they had a plan. An uncertain one, as plans went, but there was no certainty in the realm of war. They could only bait the trap and hope for the best.