Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

Rating: PG, as usual. Oh, and I left an author's note on the review page- please check it out. Thanks! Oh, and sorry it's so short...back to school is NOT COOL. Update soon though!

"Alexandria?"

It had been a good two or three minutes since Alexandria had thrown open the double doors to the west wing of the palace, and she was standing in front of him, frozen, apparently still in shock. He loved the fact that his little birthday gift had made such an impact on her, but...his feet were getting really tired. "Um, Alexandria?" he asked.

No response.

"Look," he said, staring at her back, "no offense or anything, but you make a much better door than a window."

When she still didn't move, Kuzco took her by the shoulders and attempted to move her. She stepped aside surprisingly easily, and he moved up beside her, surveying the scene before her.

The entire west wing of the palace had been gutted and refurbished, made over completely to look like…

"Home," Alexandria breathed. Her green eyes looked surprisingly bright.

"Not bad, huh." Kuzco was predictably smug. "Come on in." He took her wrist and pulled her forward, not even a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "You can't see anything from here."

The change was astounding. With Helena's help, Kuzco had basically redone an entire wing of his palace- virtually, an entire side. He'd called in the finest laborers and contractors from all corners of the kingdom, making them abandon their various projects, all to ensure that the job was done perfectly, and quickly. And now that he was viewing the results through Alexandria's eyes, he was pleased.

Very pleased.

"Not bad, Kuzco," he muttered to himself. "Not bad at-all." It was amazing, the changes that had been made in only a few days.

The narrow, gilded halls identical to the rest of the palace had all been knocked down, and the windows had been ripped open to twice their size, letting in an abundance of light and fresh air. The elegantly stained wood floors, imported carpets and intricately carved gold-plated walls were all gone. Instead, there was an immense, open space, and the floors had been pulled up, stripped and replaced with white marble, flushed with the faintest tint of rose. It was cool to the touch. Pillars of the same marble stood in each corner, wrapped in delicate green vines.

Instead of the heavy, dark, drapes of rich fabrics that had once adorned the windows, long strings of translucent, multi-colored glass beads hung from frame to sill on each. These beads, in an ingenious method introduced to the contractors by Helena, had been dipped in perfumed water, and the breezes that wafted in from outdoors ran through the strands, cooling the vast chamber as well as filling it with the spicy-sweet aroma of flowers and cinnamon. Imbedded in the floor was a large pool, filled with water flowing from a set of carefully-arranged stones from the sea, imported from the Grecian coastline.

The floor of the pool was covered with brightly covered mosaics depicting stories of the Greek gods, and a separate tank encased in colored glass featured brightly colored tropical fish. Hand-crafted, painted privacy screens stood on one side, ready to be unfolded and used. Kuzco walked over and touched one of the rocks, for lack of anything better to do. It was flat, warm to the touch, and smooth from its journey though the rolling waves. It had come a long way to be here.

Alexandria was still moving as if in a fog, crossing the marble floor with silent steps, pushing back her tumbled dark hair with her small hands. Her mouth hung slightly open, and her eyes were slightly dazed. She reached out and touched a delicate, flower-ridden vine that now crawled up one of the walls. Light from the adjoining window illuminated her, shining through the loose white fabric of her nightgown, draped around and over her arms and legs. She followed the vines with her fingers to the place where they led out the window, then looked out. Silent.

Kuzco waited for a minute and watched her before speaking. Tall, slender, elegant, draped in white, her long, thick, dark hair cascading down her back, she looked as if she belonged in this landscape, this foreign chamber- like a kind of statue. Helena had done her job well. The place looked very feminine, exactly like her, in a way.

The hand that he could see clutched the wall for a moment, then slid down, crushing the delicate folds of her nightgown as she clutched the white fabric in her fist.

"Ummm…" Kuzco didn't quite know what to say. "You have rooms for sleeping and eating here too, of course. Your own throne and receiving rooms, and a dressing room…I figured that our space got a little…tight, and you might want your own place to, y'know. Chill. After all, being married to me does kind of make you Queen of the World. And being Queen of the World does come with its benefits…I mean, it's not like you're a peasant or anything…" Okay, Kuzco. You're officially yammering now. I mean, yammering Kuta-style"Alexandria?".

Still no reply.

Cautiously, Kuzco moved closer. "We tried to kind of decorate it in the style you had back home…Helena helped me with that. Feel free to…scream or faint with gratitude or whatever." Now directly behind her, he shifted his feet slightly uncomfortably and looked up. Okay, it's her birthday, right? There's something that I would have to say in this situation…what IS that phrase again? I mean…what would Pacha say? Oh yeah! "Um…Happy birthday." Okay, so he wasn't the smoothest speaker. But he had got his point across. "Alexandria?"

She lowered her head to the sill, her hair pooling over the edge.

Worried now, Kuzco moved closer and lowered his face to the level of the crook of her arm, where her face was buried. "Alexandria?"

"Lord."

"Well, she could speak. That was a good sign.

"Good Lord."

"What's the matter?" Kuzco asked. He leaned forward, closer, and she raised her head. Her cheeks looked suspiciously moist, as did her eyes, which she quickly lowered. Her mouth trembled, slightly, and she bit her lower lip. Her face was flushed.

Kuzco's thoughts, in spite of themselves, were racing. Come to think of it, his pulse was racing, too…why on earth would that happen? Oh, man. She hates it. It reminds her too much of home…I've made it worse…I've made her even more homesick. Man, I feel terrible. Just…terrible! A pause. Then, Hm. Wonder if I can turn this place into a personal entertainment center, now that I have to re-do it and all…

Alexandria's voice interrupted his mental planning.

"I…" she pressed her hand to her chest, leaning heavily on the windowsill, a comically confused look on her pretty face. "I feel…funny. It's spreading up from my stomach to my chest…it's really, really warm…fuzzy…" she clutched her chest and sank to her knees. "Bubbly, even," she muttered. "Am I having a heart attack?"

Kuzco rolled his eyes, both with relief and annoyance, his heartbeat slowing once she turned her face away. Whew. That was so weird… He should have guessed. "Alexandria. What you feel is…" he leaned forward and pulled her to her feet. "Gratitude. Probably happiness, too."

What, honey?"

Kuzco could no longer repress his sarcasm. Really, sometimes it was mandatory. "Feelings? Ever heard of those?"

Her face was blank. "What, honey?"

He rubbed his eyes. "Oh, man." How am I going to explain this one?…"You know, like…an emotion? Normal people have them. It makes them cry, laugh…"

"I get it!" snapped Alexandria. "I just…It's never happened to me before!" she straightened up. "Must…get…rid…of…it…Helena! I need a drink!" she slapped the windowsill, beginning to lurch towards the door. "Where is that girl…Helena!

Kuzco smirked. He couldn't help it. Reaching for her, he pulled her back. "Look, Alexandria," he said, "I wanted to do something nice for you. That's all. You're supposed to feel good about it."

"Really?" She paused. "Well…that was quite kind, honey…what do I say?"

"Most people say thank you."

"Oh. Well…thank you."

Kuzco nodded. The silence that followed was slightly uncomfortable.

"So." Alexandria broke the silence. "These chambers are mine?"

"All yours."

Alexandria walked through the wing, lifting the hem of her nightgown off the floor so it wouldn't drag. Kuzco followed her silently, not knowing what else to say. She walked through the immense dressing room, hung wall-to-floor with gold-plated mirrors engraved with her name, through the large bedroom, through the small banquet room, touching the walls, the draperies, the decorations. Stopping back in her new bedroom, she reached out and touched a marble statue of Zeus with her fingers, carefully. Kuzco slowed his momentum just a second too late and froze just before he bumped into her. What she did next had him shocked for the rest of the night…

She whirled around, threw her arms around him, and hugged him…tight.

"Thank you," she whispered, into his ear.

He stiffened, unused to the contact, then tentatively relaxed, wrapping his arms around her as well. She rested her cheek against the rich brocade of his robe, and for an instant he couldn't breathe, for some reason. Holding her so close felt so strange…

Suddenly she laughed, breaking the moment. She whirled around again, this time out of his grip, and turned, picking up her skirts, racing through her new rooms like a child, laughing all the while. Kuzco remained where he was, startled both by her sudden embrace and her suddenly breaking away from him. Um…okay….so I married an insane one.

After a pause, he shrugged and started after her. Why not? Truth to tell…could he imagine her any other way? Not really.

"Happy birthday, Alexandria," he said under his breath, and shook his head.

Maybe the teenage emperor was actually beginning to grow up...

Or maybe not. Kuzco took that oppertunity to take a slide across the floor.