Disclaimer: Yzma and I are still working hard, but our attempts to take over Disney are going nowhere. They still own it all, baby.

Rating: G

"Are you okay, Kuzco?"

Kuzco looked up from the food he was eating, so startled that he dropped a hot asparagus tip into his lap, burning his bare leg. He flicked it off without flinching, and looked up to see who had interrupted his thoughts.

Kronk and Anya were standing there, looking concerned.

"Um…yeah. I'm fine."

"You haven't touched your raisin cakes, sire," Kronk said, looking slightly hurt. "I made them fresh this morning."

Kuzco had a sarcastic comeback at the tip of his tongue, but just couldn't summon up the energy to use it. Instead, he picked up one of the proffered cakes and began to play with it, idly. "Is the Empress out of her rooms yet?" he finally asked.

Anya gave him a look that was both concerned and sympathetic. "No. She hasn't taken any food today, either." She waited for a moment. When Kuzco said nothing, his brow still furrowed, she spoke again. "Do you…shall I have her summoned?"

"No!" Kuzco looked up quickly. "Actually, you guys can go. Thanks for the meal."

Exchanging glances, Anya and Kronk both hesitated, then left together. Kuzco didn't even notice them go- his head was swirling with thoughts, something it didn't do very often.

So Alexandria was still in her rooms, brooding over whatever it was that had her so upset. Kuzco picked at his breakfast, still thinking. Was she sick? Hungover, most likely. But…..

When she had screamed on him, Kuzco had seen something in her eyes- something that had shaken him to the point of actually… worrying about her. If she had been whining out of sheer meanness, selfishness, or battiness, he wouldn't have cared a bit. But this….this was different. Her injured expression…the tears streaming down her face….

He'd see actual hurt in her eyes. Actual pain and anger. And he didn't like what he had seen- not one bit.

Kuzco half-considered going to her rooms and trying to draw her out again, but when he'd done that before, all he got for his pains was silence, followed by a number of colorful insults in Greek. He got up and crept over to her door anyway.

Just as he was about to knock on it, he was startled when Alexandria's tiny little maid, Helena, leapt out of the room, carrying a tray. When she saw Kuzco, she blushed to the roots of her hair and curtseyed immediately. "Your highness!"

"Yeah, yeah, enough of that," Kuzco said impatiently. He motioned to the tray, which was filled. "Did she eat anything?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Helena's face, as if she was shocked that he would inquire after Alexandria. It was skillfully hid underneath her "servant's mask" in a second. "A little, sir."

"Helena," Kuzco said sternly, "Look at me. And drop that demure expression." Whoa. is that me talking? I actually sound like...an emperor! Cool! But back to business. Oh yeah. Alexandria.

Helena looked at him in surprise.

"Tell me what's wrong with Alexandria. What's really wrong with her."

"Well," Helena said, glancing down the hall furtively. Kuzco saw her expression and took her by the arm, pulling her into his room. When the door was shut behind him, he glared at her. "Talk."

"It…" Helena shifted her feet. "That is to say…"

"Out with it, Helena!"

"Today is her birthday!" Helena sputtered. "She's eighteen today, and she's….homesick."

"What?" Since there was no sign of a seat, Kuzco plunked down on the floor. Helena squatted down beside him. "Are you all right, sire?"

"It's her birthday?" With a sudden flash of guilt, Kuzco remembered the three-week festival that had accompanied his own recent birthday, not to mention the whole "Kuzcotopia" incident. He had been at home, surrounded by his own people. He had been congratulated and been given gifts by everyone in the palace (course, it had been because they knew they'd have been dead otherwise, but still.)

Alexandria was by herself, in a strange land, married off to an emperor she barely knew….and had no one to celebrate one of her biggest birthdays with, except her maid.

He couldn't blame her for acting the way she was…

"Yes, sire." Helena's voice broke into his thoughts, which were racing with the rapidity of a speeding llama. "Her father normally holds a week-long birthday feast for her at the palace, and she is given a tremendous amount of gifts. Festivals are held in her honor, and…"

Kuzco tilted his head. Now that his initial shock was wearing off, his thinking was much clearer. "Hush for a second, lady, I'm trying to think." Despite the fact that she was…Alexandria, no one, no one deserved to be alone on their birthday. That would be just…cruel. And besides…since the Kimsata banquet, and since they had begun spending civil time together, he had begun to…care for her, in a really strange way that scared him half to death whenever he stopped to think about it...

But it was too late for him to do anything for her without it looking like an afterthought….unless….

He turned to the maid, his eyes suddenly bright.

"Helena," he said, "I have a plan that I think will help your mistress feel better…but I need your help."

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"Splendid!"

Somewhere in the deep dark throes of the woods surrounding Kuzco's kingdom, a woman was crying out on joy.

Yzma was standing at the head of her army.

She studied them with the hooded expression of one who knows that she is old and ugly and there's no turning back, despite potions, creams and chemical peels. They stood with the blank, drooling, uncomprehending looks of- well, dogs that had been turned to men .

Yzma adjusted her new dress, a light tunic worn underneath heavy mail armor. "Men, you have been impeccably trained, thanks to my genius," she announced, pausing her speech to preen. "Who is your master?"

The men kneeled before her, indicating her with outstretched arms.

"And who is our enemy?" she hissed, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to look sinister (but actually only succeeding in deepening the wrinkles that surrounded them).

"Kuzco," the men growled.

"Who?"

Kuzco!"

"Who?"

"KUZCO!"

Yzma's voice was cracking by now, so she ended the chant and waved the men away for the evening. She took a seat on a rock and practiced her evil cackle.

After all, she'd need it pretty soon.

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"Alexandria?"

Kuzco was standing outside his wife's door, rapping on the door. "Alexandria!" Maybe I should go away….After all, he didn't want her to scream that she hated him again or anything.

But he needed to go through with this. He had to.

When no one answered, he sat down on the floor. "I'm going to stay out here until I get an answer from you!"

No answer.

"You have got to come out of there sometime!"

No answer.

Kuzco sighed and played his trump card. "I've got Chablis!"

Silence. Then he heard footsteps. The door opened a crack. He heard her voice. It was low and subdubed, not high and nasal as it usually was. But it was Alexandria, all right. "Vintage?"

"You bet."

There was a sigh. The door creaked as it opened. One large eye peered out, veiled by thick, dark hair.

Kuzco reached out and pulled the door open, then stepped back in shock as what he saw.

Alexandria was standing there, all right- but it wasn't the high-strung, high-colored, fashionable girl he was used to. This creature was swathed in the same thin bedclothes she'd been wearing days ago, and her hair looked wild and tangled. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she'd been crying repeatedly and for a long time, too. And her face…she still had that sad, lost-little-girl expression in her eyes.

She must've been even more miserable than I thought…Kuzco thought to himself, surprised at the sudden impulse he had to hug her.

"Come on, Alexandria," he said loudly, interrupting his own thoughts. "I want to…I want to give you something."

"What is it?" She asked, dully.

"Your birthday gift."

She looked up in shock, but could say nothing, since Kuzco was dragging her down the hall by the hand, still dressed in her nightclothes. "You have Helena to thank, really," Kuzco said crossly, still rattled by his earlier feelings when she'd stepped out the door. "She told me why you were so upset….after you wouldn't."

Alexandria didn't answer; instead, she looked down at the ground that they were covering as they moved through the hall.

"Alexandria," for once Kuzco decided to take the direct route and avoid the sarcasm, "why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think you'd care," Alexandria said sullenly. "You don't have to do anything for me."

Kuzco was silent for a moment, thinking. Had he really been such an ogre? But then again, she had had her moments, too…..

There was no time to talk, however. They had reached a large, ornately carved gold-plated door that led to the entire west wing of the palace. "Well," Kuzco said, gesturing to the door, "here it is."

Alexandria narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Your present. Open the door."

When Alexandria hesitated, Kuzco sighed. "Look, Alexandria," he said patiently, "You have my word that this isn't a trick. I wouldn't do that to you…at least, not at a time like this. And…I gave it to you because I want to, not because I thought I should."

Alexandria nodded in his direction, then placed her fingers on the knobs.....

Kuzco rolled his eyes. "Good grief, woman. Sometime before I'm twenty!"

.....and threw the doors open.

What she saw made her gasp.