A/N: So, I got some work done, and rewarded myself with a little writing. :) Thanks for continuing to read.

mundane-pansycakes: Could probably work. Thanks for reading and commenting. :)

Totalbooknerd13: Hopefully so. Waking up from a dream that real is hard to shake...

jthornestudent: Thanks. The characters aren't being totally cooperative, but the should be back on track soon.

The Devil Wears Westwood: Thanks for the encouragement. They haven't been my favorite chapters. Possibly necessary... :)

Thanks, Everyone! SJ

Daylight did not dim the uneasiness that settles over me. I can't shake the feeling that for all our strategies and planning, we are missing something.

After training with Georgia again, I head to the rifle range, alone. She and Marlee let me go, and I don't answer their questioning looks. Guns are not my favorite weapon, but after the Southern rebels invaded the palace, killing so many we cared for, I insisted that Maxon show me how to fire a handgun. It is something I never thought I'd want to know. But if I had known that day, Aspen never would have been so seriously injured. I was a familiar sight here for a full year afterward, especially when the nightmares started. As our family grew, I came less and less. Since my pregnancy with Barrett and Griffin, I hadn't even ventured to the training grounds at all.

I don't know much about materials and caliber and range. I leave that to Maxon and Aspen. But I know which handgun feels best in my hand. I choose from the case, trying out several. Then look around the gallery, and am satisfied that I am alone. I check my weapon and load the chamber. I'm not sure if my target practice will ever be of much use in an actual attack, but feeling the kickback in my arm satisfies me. I pull the trigger five more times, the bullets cluster around the heart of the target. I relax my stance. Letting my arms fall to my side. I exhale a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Morning, Mer. I haven't seen you down here in ages."

I start, not expecting anyone behind me. And after my dream last night, his voice is not one I really want to hear.

I make a noise that could be a greeting.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I want to shoot targets. And I want to do it alone." I'm not ready for words this morning. There have been so many words. So much talking.

"The nightmares started again." It wasn't a question, and I didn't answer. Instead, I turn my back to him and aim. This time the bullets cluster in the head.

"Remind me not to ever do anything where I am looking at you from the other end of one of those." I rebuff his attempt to talk, and raise an eyebrow in reply. I reload.

"Okay, Mer. A guard training rotation will be starting in 20 minutes."

I nod and turn my back.

Less than an hour later, Mary is putting the finishing touches on my hair. Another strategy meeting, this time with Stavros. I was hoping to grab a minute to read a story to Brie and the little boys. Cal is in class. I'm not sure I've seen him in the last twenty-four hours.

As Mary steps away from the mirror, she smiles a genuine smile. I suddenly feel wistful and grab her hand. "Mary, could you ever imagine when you first met me that I would be Queen of Illea?"

"I hoped, Your Majesty. And so did Anne and Lucy. And the longer we knew you, the more we were sure that Prince Maxon would pick the best woman in the competition. And that was always you." She squeezes my hand back, then curtsies and steps away from the dressing table.

"Thank you."

Mary stops at the door and turns to me, "And if I may say, you exceed our expectations."

Breathe. Breathe. I take one last glance at my outfit-black dress pants, sapphire blue silk blouse peeking out from the black fitted jacket. Pearls. Hair in a sensible knot. Everyone is used to my day dresses, but the suit called to me today. It might raise a few eyebrows, but I always have.

I cross our common room, my black patent pumps singing a staccato across the floor. Marlee and Georgia wait for me in my alcove. They're giving my touring schedule another once over. Georgia looks up and smiles, and Marlee laughs outright. "I think the meeting this afternoon is going to be interesting," she tells Georgia. "It's in twenty, America."

"I know. I just-". I motioned to the door of the nursery. I had asked Paige and May to keep the little ones close while I dressed.

Her expression softens, "Go ahead. They can wait if need be."

I open the door and am engulfed in hugs. I sit on the floor and gather my three littlest into my lap.

"Mama!" Abrielle exclaims. "Is it Saturday?"

"No, baby," I laugh, "It's not. It's Thursday."

"But girls wear dresses on Thursday."

I nod, "Some girls do, Brie. But today, this girl wears pants! Now, what should we read? Let's each pick one!"

I straighten my blouse under my jacket and tuck a stray hair behind my ear. I exchange a meaningful look with Marlee and Georgia, and take a deep breath. "Let's do this," I mutter, and turn the corner to Maxon's study. The guards on either side of the door, Avery of course, and someone I recognize stand at strict attention. They greet me properly, bowing at the waist. I hold out my hand to the newcomer. He wouldn't be there if Carter didn't think he was exceptional. Checking his name badge, I say, "Welcome to the team, Officer Riley. Thank you for your service." The men in the room behind me hear my voice and stand, Maxon allows a small smile to cross his face as he watches the expressions around the table. He is used to me acknowledging the people who help me every day. As I walk confidently into the room, even he looks a little surprised about the pants. Let them look. If they can strategize in pants, so can I.

"Gentleman, please sit," I say smiling at them each in turn. Maxon pulls out the chair beside him, and seats me before seating himself. We all take our seats. It is time to get to work.