Majesty P.O.V

The frantic mood that settled over our group was unsettling. Now, forced within the confines of the prison with the yard breached and overrun by walkers, the danger we faced was more real than ever. Daryl and Merle's return was a brief moment of happiness, but it was quickly overshadowed by the reality of our situation.

Rick was certain that we weren't running, a decision I wasn't entirely sure I agreed with. I was angry—angry at myself for putting my brother in a situation where I couldn't even guarantee his safety, and angry at the circumstances that brought us here. But more than anything, I was angry at the sight of Maggie arguing with Merle.

I stood off to the side, arms crossed, listening to the heated exchange. My emotions were all over the place. The anger simmering inside me felt like a constant burn, a fire that refused to be extinguished. Every time I saw Maggie, every word that left her mouth, it left a bad taste in mine.

But I knew the feeling was probably mutual. How could it not be? The tension between us had been thick ever since we found each other again, and now, with everything else going on, it was only getting worse.

As Maggie's voice raised, arguing with Merle over something I couldn't even focus on, I felt my fists clench at my sides. I couldn't stand it. The sight of her, the sound of her voice—it was all too much. It was irrational, I knew that, but I couldn't help the way I felt.

I turned away, not wanting to watch anymore. I didn't have the energy for this, not when there were so many other things to worry about. The Governor was out there, planning his next move, and here we were, stuck inside these walls, fighting among ourselves.

I stood outside behind a secure fence, surveying the yard as I tried to count the number of straggling biters roaming around. There were too many to keep a real count. I wasn't surprised—this was exactly the kind of move the Governor would pull. Once upon a time, I would've been the one driving a truck full of walkers into someone else's home, forcing them out so I could shoot them dead. The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

Rick joined me moments later, silently taking in the destroyed state of the home he'd tried so hard to build here.

"If it means anything—I trust you," I said quietly, not looking at him. "The man you've become is nothing like who I knew before. But I see what you've done and what you're trying to do. This place could be worth defending."

"It has to be. It has to," Rick replied, his voice heavy with the weight of the situation.

"It's not possible with what we have. He's gonna come back—maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow. But he'll be back," I said, my tone cold and matter-of-fact.

Rick sighed heavily, the hard exterior he'd been holding up finally starting to crack. "I don't know what to do."

"Don't ask me," I responded, shaking my head. "Trying to protect everyone isn't me anymore. I keep me and my brother alive. I'm here now, so I'll do my part in this fight. But we have to win—because I won't be responsible for the death of my little brother."

Rick looked at me, his eyes reflecting the same exhaustion and desperation I felt. We were both fighters, survivors, but this—this was something else entirely. The stakes were too high, and the risks were too great.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure if we could come out of this on top. But one thing was certain: we had to try, because there was no other choice.

Carl joined us next, his presence quiet but unmistakable. He reminded me of my brother in a way—so far from the kid I had known before. Whatever had happened to him had sucked the childish energy right out of him, leaving behind someone hardened by the world, just like the rest of us.

He looked up at me and then at Rick, his expression serious beyond his years. It was unsettling to see such a young face carrying so much weight.

"Anything we need to do out here?" Carl asked, his tone flat, almost resigned.

I shook my head slightly, still scanning the yard. "Not much we can do right now. Just keep an eye out."

Carl nodded, stepping closer to the fence, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene before us. There was a determination in him that I couldn't help but admire, even if it made my heart ache a little. He was just a kid, and yet here he was, ready to do whatever it took to survive. Just like Kris. Just like me.

"I remember when you used to run around the camp, never staying in one place for more than a minute," I said softly, not really sure why I brought it up. Maybe it was just the weight of everything that had changed since then.

Carl didn't respond right away, his gaze still locked on the walkers in the yard. "That was a long time ago," he finally said, his voice void of any emotion.

I nodded, feeling a pang of sadness. "Yeah, it was."

Rick placed a hand on Carl's shoulder, a rare moment of softness passing between them. "We're gonna get through this, alright?" he said, his voice gentle but firm.

Carl looked up at him, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of the kid he used to be—the one who still believed in his dad's words, who still believed that things could get better. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the same hardened expression he'd had before.

"Yeah," Carl replied, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anything else.

We stood there in silence for a while, the three of us, each lost in our own thoughts. The weight of what was coming was heavy, pressing down on all of us, but there was no turning back now. We were in this together, whether we liked it or not.

"Can I talk to my dad?" Carl asked, his eyes making it clear he wanted some privacy. I nodded, playfully flicking his nose, a small reminder that no matter how much he had grown, he was still just a kid at heart. He gave a faint smile before turning back to Rick.

As I walked away, I felt a familiar mix of worry and guilt start to creep in. It didn't take long to spot Kris, trailing after Amy like a lovesick puppy. Every time I saw him, that guilt tightened its grip on me. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had dragged him into something he was never meant to face.

"Kris," I called out, cutting through the noise around us.

The pair stopped their discussion to look at me, and I smiled warmly at them. Despite everything, seeing the two of them brought me a small piece of joy.

"How are ya'll holding up?" I asked, realizing it had been a while since we'd had a chance to catch up.

"I'd be better if Amy let me be her bunkie," Kris joked, flashing her a set of bedroom eyes that made me roll mine.

Amy chuckled, shaking her head. "You're incorrigible."

Kris grinned back at her, clearly enjoying himself. It was a brief moment of lightness in the middle of all this chaos, and I couldn't help but feel a bit of relief at seeing him find something to smile about.

"You know, Kris," I teased, "maybe you should focus on staying alive before worrying about bunkmates."

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he quipped, his smile widening.

Amy playfully nudged him. "You might want to work on your charm a bit."

"Hey, I'm plenty charming," Kris protested, feigning offense.

I shook my head, a real smile spreading across my face as I watched them banter. It was these small moments that kept us going, kept us human. And as much as I worried about Kris, seeing him like this reminded me that there was still some hope left, even in this messed-up world.

"Seriously," I said, my tone shifting to something more serious. "I wanna make sure you guys are good. We have to be strong for this—whatever comes of it."

Amy's expression hardened, her playful demeanor fading. I could see the pain in her eyes, the way she was holding back how much it hurt knowing her sister, Andrea, wasn't here with us—worse, that she was out there, part of the group attacking us. "You know you don't have to protect me, right? I'm not the one that's your little brother."

Kris immediately jumped in, a touch of irritation in his voice. "I'm not little—I can handle myself."

I looked between the two of them, feeling a mix of pride and concern. They were both right, in their own ways. Amy had been through enough to stand her ground, and Kris was growing into someone who could hold his own. But that didn't stop the protective instincts that flared up inside me.

"I know," I said, my voice softening as I met Kris's eyes. "But it's my job to worry. Just like it's my job to remind you both that we're in this together. And that means watching out for each other, no matter what."

Amy nodded, but her hardened expression didn't waver. "We'll be okay. We've made it this far, haven't we?"

I knew she was hurting, trying to mask the pain of Andrea's betrayal with a tough exterior. I could see it in the way she carried herself, the way her eyes didn't quite meet mine. But she wasn't going to let it break her, and I had to respect that.

"Yeah, we have," I agreed, trying to reassure myself as much as them. "But that doesn't mean it's gonna get any easier. We have to be ready for anything."

Kris smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, as long as we've got each other, we've got this."

Something else I had been holding onto flickered in my mind as I thought of Glenn and the moment we shared the other night. A mixture of guilt and uncertainty twisted in my stomach, and I knew I needed to talk it out with someone.

"I wanna talk to Amy," I said to Kris, trying to sound casual. "You know, about girl stuff."

Kris raised an eyebrow but didn't push it. "I guess," he replied, shrugging. He looked back at Amy, a grin spreading across his face. "I'll just be right over there when you need me."

I smacked the back of his head lightly, rolling my eyes. "Go away," I joked, shaking my head as he walked off.

Somewhat like old times, I giddily grabbed Amy's hand, leading her to a more secluded part of the cell block where we could catch up. The moment felt almost normal, a brief escape from the chaos surrounding us.

"Sooo," I started once we were out of earshot, glancing around to make sure we were alone. "Glenn and I had sex the other night."

Amy gasped, her eyes widening as she absorbed the unexpected gossip. "How was it?"

I couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. "I mean... it was good. But it doesn't change how I feel."

Amy tilted her head, her expression turning more serious. "Do you even know how you feel? You get mad at Maggie when she talks to Glenn, and then you get mad at Glenn when he talks to you."

Her words hit home, making me pause. She wasn't wrong—I was all over the place with my emotions, torn between the past and the present, between what was and what could be.

"I don't know," I admitted, my voice softer. "It's like... everything I thought I wanted, it's here. But it's not the same. And I don't know how to handle it."

"That's understandable—but you can't be like this forever..." Amy's voice trailed off, and I could feel myself sinking into my own thoughts, completely exasperated.

"You don't have to be the hundredth person to remind me," I muttered, rubbing my temples as the weight of everything pressed down on me.

Amy hesitated, but her eyes were filled with concern. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

I shrugged, feeling more lost than ever. "I don't know. Anyway, we don't have time to talk about anything. If he meets me up in that guard tower again, I wouldn't even know what to say—I might just fuck him again."

Amy snorted, "Is that what you want?"

"I want him, but I don't. But I also don't want Maggie to have him," I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

Amy raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, that is kinda unfair. I mean, I agree—y'all have too much history to just throw it away. But you have to figure out what you want to say to him."

I paused, the weight of what I was about to reveal pressing down on me. My throat tightened as I tried to find the right words. "I was pregnant—not for long. I lost it."

The shift in Amy's expression was immediate, her playful demeanor vanishing as she grabbed my arm, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"I was definitely already pregnant when I went after Sophia—Glenn and I had sex at the quarry. We had sex a couple of days before I went missing too—I don't know the timeline. I saw the bump. Some things happened, and Merle found me, brought me to the doctor in Woodbury. They confirmed it—but they also confirmed that it was too late."

Amy stayed silent, absorbing every word I said.

"It was hard, but it's harder here—seeing Judith every day. Even seeing Glenn and knowing he doesn't know."

Amy gasped softly. "You didn't tell him?"

I shrugged, feeling the weight of my own uncertainty. "I don't... I don't know how."

Amy kept her grip on my arm, her eyes full of concern and sadness. "I can't even imagine what that must've been like for you, Majesty. But maybe… maybe telling him would help? I mean, you've been carrying this alone for so long."

I shook my head, pulling away slightly. "It's not that simple, Amy. Telling him... it won't change anything. It won't bring back what I lost. And what if it just makes everything worse? What if he feels obligated to be with me because of it?"

Amy sighed, her expression softening. "Or maybe it'll bring you both some closure. You've both been through so much—separately and together. Maybe it's something you both need to heal."

I looked down, feeling the turmoil inside me bubble to the surface. "I don't know if I can handle his reaction, Amy. I don't know if I can handle seeing the pain in his eyes when he realizes what could've been. And what about Maggie? What would it do to her? This could break everything apart even more."

Amy nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of my dilemma. "You're right. It's a lot to think about. But you can't keep carrying this burden alone. Whether you tell Glenn or not, you need to find a way to deal with it. For your own sake."

I bit my lip, the uncertainty still gnawing at me. "I don't know how to deal with it, Amy. I've tried to move on, tried to bury it, but it keeps coming back. Every time I see Judith, every time I look at Glenn… it's like a knife twisting in my chest."

Amy squeezed my hand gently. "Then maybe it's time to stop trying to bury it. Maybe it's time to face it, even if it's terrifying. You've been through hell, Majesty. You're strong. Stronger than you think."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. "Maybe. But I'm not sure I'm ready to face it yet."

Amy nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Whenever you are, just know you don't have to do it alone. You've got me, and you've got Kris. And Glenn… well, you'll figure that out when you're ready."

I nodded, trying to process her words as they struck a chord deep within me. Amy's insight carried the weight of experience, and I could feel the truth in what she was saying.

"Listen," she continued, "we're going to get through everything. You're going to find your way in all this."

I pulled her in for another hug, feeling a wave of gratitude for having her in my life. She was a true friend, one of the few constants in this chaotic world. When I pulled back, I looked into her eyes, realizing that she, too, was grappling with her own internal struggles.

"You too," I said softly. "Andrea doesn't even know you're alive. If we had been able to get to her and tell her, maybe she would've come back."

Amy shook her head, a sad smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah. But you don't know. On the farm, she wanted to leave with Shane. She was so mad at me for not wanting to go. We argued all the time. It created this barrier between us—just like when we were kids."

She paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing, "I know what it feels like to have all that built-up resentment, things you want to say but never get the chance to. I never got to say goodbye to her—I thought she was gone, just like Glenn thought you were. It's hard to swallow stuff like that and rebuild. Remember that when you talk to Glenn."

Her words hung in the air, and I felt the weight of them pressing on me. Amy's experience mirrored my own in ways I hadn't fully grasped until now. The barriers, the unsaid words, the resentment—it was all too familiar.

"I'm gonna talk to Merle," I sighed, the plan forming in my mind. Amy had been there for me in so many ways; it felt right to try and do something for her in return. "I'm gonna get back into Woodbury—try to get Andrea a note or something."

Amy's eyes widened in alarm. "No—no, that's too dangerous."

"It's not," I reassured her, my thoughts drifting to Milton. I knew for a fact that he had to be against this war, against the meaningless death on both sides. "I know someone who might help. Plus, once Andrea finds out you're alive, she could be our inside man. It's worth it."

"No, it's not," Amy protested, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—hope, fear, maybe a mix of both—as she silently stood, unsure of how to respond to my determination. I could see her hesitation, the conflict between wanting to keep me safe and wanting to believe that this plan could work.

I tried to offer her some reassurance, even as my mind solidified on the idea. "I can help everyone here, Amy. I can do this."

"Ima go talk to Merle," I said, rushing out of the cell before Amy could protest any further. I passed by the others as they made plans among themselves about the yard and defenses. My mind was set on what I needed to do, even if it was dangerous. I approached where Merle was locked in the recreation area, grabbing the bars and calling to him.

Merle was lost in whatever thoughts plagued him, but he smiled when he noticed me. "Whoo, lookie here, I got a visitor."

"Stop. I'm trying to be serious right now."

He tilted his head, a curious look on his face. "Okay? What did I do to deserve a visit from you, princess?"

"I'm still pissed at you. But I'm glad you're here. And now we have a chance to get the upper hand."

"And how is that?"

"Andrea. She finds out about her sister, and she has to choose a side."

Merle snickered. "And how we gonna tell her about her sister?"

"Me. I can get in Woodbury and out without someone noticing. I know where she stays. I can get to her—I just need backup."

"While I do admire the audacity, your old man and Rick ain't never gonna let that happen."

"Rick might think it's a good idea; we need the leverage. And Glenn can't do anything about it."

Merle's smile faded slightly as he leaned closer to the bars, sizing me up. "You really think Rick's gonna give you the green light on this? Last I checked, he's barely holding it together. And Glenn? Well, we know he ain't gonna be too thrilled."

"Thrilled about what?" Glenn asked, coming to stand beside me.

"What, Glenn?" I replied, already feeling annoyed at his presence.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked, his voice tight.

"About?" I asked, trying to ignore the chuckles of Merle as he walked away from us.

"I don't like you next to him."

"What?" I scoffed. "I understand what happened—"

"No, you don't! Look what he started. This is all because of him."

I felt a pang of hurt in my heart, knowing that whatever Merle did start did lead me right back to Glenn, but he was too enraged to see that part.

"You're right—look what he started. I'm here because of him."

Glenn looked away, shaking his head. "That's not what I meant."

"I know what you mean. He beat the shit out of you, did whatever he did to Maggie. What he did was fucked up, but Merle saved my life. Not Rick. Not you. I trust him."

I knew my words hit Glenn where it hurt, a low blow I couldn't help getting out. His face twisted in pain, the truth of my words cutting deep. I watched as he clenched his fists, struggling to find the right response.

"Majesty...," he began, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

"Don't," I interrupted, my voice cold. "Don't try to twist this. I know where my loyalty lies."

His eyes met mine, filled with a mix of anger and hurt. "Loyalty? Is that what this is about? You don't owe him anything."

"I owe him my life," I shot back, stepping closer to him. "You don't get to decide who I trust, Glenn. Not anymore."

The tension between us was thick, the weight of everything that had happened bearing down on us. Glenn opened his mouth .

"I can't do this," he muttered, turning away from me.

"Then don't," I said, watching him walk away, the distance between us growing wider with every step he took.

With a couple of eyes of the others now on me, I began to feel suffocated within the walls. I hated how involved everyone was in my dramas. Even before this, I took careful steps to not allow family or friends to have a part in any fight between Glenn and me, but now there was no escape from everyone knowing our pain and issues.

I needed my escape, and I took the moment to leave, stumbling outside for a breath of somewhat fresher air. The oppressive atmosphere seemed to cling to me, even as I stood in the open. I looked around, taking in the biter-ridden yard, feeling the weight of what still needed to be done.

Carl and Maggie were on the guard rail, staring out into the distance. Except Maggie—she was looking straight at me. Her gaze was unwavering, and I could feel the tension even from where I stood. I locked eyes with her, refusing to back down. Her expression was hard, unreadable, whatever hatred she felt towards me simmering behind that killer look.

I did nothing but return the glare, unspoken words between us filling the space between our eyes. This was more than just anger; it was a quiet, festering resentment. We were both trapped in this mess, and neither of us was willing to give an inch. The bitterness between us was palpable, and it was only a matter of time before it boiled over.

Finally, Maggie looked away, something Carl said drawing her attention. She aimed her scope out into the yard, then whispered something back to Carl, who ran off with urgency. The sudden shift in mood set my nerves on edge, and I ducked behind a nearby car, expecting another attack. The sight of our group members rushing outside, armed and ready, only heightened the tension.

"Majesty!" Glenn called out, tossing me an assault rifle. I caught the heavy metal, steadying myself as I prepared for another gunfight. The sight of everyone moving into formation, strategically spreading out around the prison yard, made the situation feel all too real. We were ready for anything, or so we thought.

Then Rick ran forward, shouting, "Are you alone?"

I looked up, surprised to see the woman of the hour, Andrea herself, standing there with a walker on a leash, its arms and teeth removed. Somehow, she had made it through the overrun prison yard without any other walkers noticing her. She looked like she had been through hell, her eyes wide and frantic, but there was still that same stubborn determination in her stance.

"Are you alone?!" Rick called out furiously again, his voice demanding an answer as Andrea pleaded with him to open the gate. Now front and center at our doors, she was a sight I never thought I'd see again. Amy's eyes widened as she recognized her sister, her weapon lowering as she ran toward the gate, screaming Andrea's name.

Daryl moved quickly, opening the gate just enough to let Andrea through. But before the sisters could reunite, Rick went full cop mode, grabbing Andrea and spinning her around, pressing her against the gate. He patted her down for weapons, rougher than necessary, leaving Andrea shocked and struggling against him.

"Amy?" Andrea called out, trying to fight off Rick, her voice laced with desperation. But Rick was relentless, shoving her to her knees as he removed her bag and tossed it aside.

Finally, Rick stepped back, giving Amy the chance to rush in and embrace her sister. The two clung to each other, their reunion a bittersweet moment, overshadowed by the tension hanging thick in the air. I watched from a distance, my own emotions tangled, unsure whether to feel relieved or wary of Andrea's sudden appearance.

The rest of us could only watch their embrace, an uncertainty settling among us like a heavy fog. Andrea's return wasn't the joyous reunion it could have been; it was tinged with suspicion and unresolved pain. Rick was the first to break up the moment, pulling Andrea to her feet with a cold, "Welcome back. Get up."

We all warily headed inside, Andrea and Amy walking closely together, their bond clear. But the air was thick with sorrow and tension. As soon as they were inside, Andrea moved to hug Carol tightly, her voice filled with disbelief.

"After you saved me, we thought you were dead," Carol said, clinging to Andrea as if she might disappear again.

Andrea's eyes softened as she looked around, taking in the faces she hadn't seen in so long. "Hershel, my God," she whispered, her gaze lingering on the old man. The years had worn him down, but the strength in his eyes remained. "I can't believe this. Where's Shane?"

Rick's face hardened, the mention of Shane reopening old wounds. He didn't answer, his silence telling the story of betrayal and loss. I noticed the grimace on Amy's face as Andrea asked her question, the pain still raw for her. Those wounds were fresh, and Shane's ghost still haunted them all.

As Andrea was caught up in hearing about the losses within our former group, I noticed the uncomfortable glare on Michonne's face. It was clear that Andrea had left a bad taste in more than a few people's mouths. The tension was palpable, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

My mind, however, was already moving ahead. Andrea might choose to stay now that she'd found Amy alive, but that wasn't what we needed. The truth was, Andrea had to go back. She had to fill the Governor's head with stories that would shake him, or maybe even find the courage to kill him herself. Her loyalties were in question, and the fact that the Governor had let her return to us in the first place was proof that he'd prepared for this. He was always one step ahead, always calculating.

The scenarios raced through my mind, each one darker than the last. What if he was already on his way? What if Andrea was unwittingly setting us up, leading us into a trap? The thought gnawed at me, twisting my gut. The Governor was cunning, and he knew how to play people. If Andrea wasn't careful, she could lead us all to our deaths without even realizing it.

I watched her closely as she spoke to the others, her voice filled with a mixture of sorrow and hope. But behind her words, all I could hear was the ticking of a clock, counting down to whatever the Governor had planned next.

The tension in the room was thick, and Andrea's desperate pleas only seemed to fuel the fire. Her shouting snapped me back to the present, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"I don't get it," Andrea yelled, her voice filled with frustration. "I left Atlanta with you people, and now I'm the odd man out?"

Glenn was the first to respond, his voice stern and unwavering. "He almost killed Michonne, and he would have killed us."

Andrea's anger flared as she pointed an accusing finger at Merle. "With his finger on the trigger! Isn't he the one who kidnapped you? Who beat you?"

I stepped in, trying to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand. "Relax," I said, but my voice lacked conviction. The truth was, I was just as angry, just as confused as the rest of them.

Andrea gave an exasperated sigh, clearly struggling to make sense of everything. "Look, I cannot excuse or explain what Philip has done. But I am here trying to bring us together. We have to work this out."

Rick didn't miss a beat, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "There's nothing to work out. We're gonna kill him. I don't know how or when, but we will."

Her use of the name "Philip" sent a wave of anger through me. She spoke it so casually, like he was just another person, not the monster who had torn our lives apart. Even with Amy right beside her, Andrea was still clinging to the man who had done so much damage. I couldn't understand it. How could she still be on the fence after everything she'd seen, everything she knew?

My mind raced with how to confront her, what words I could use to get through to her. But as I looked at her, standing there with that mix of desperation and determination, I realized that words might not be enough. Andrea was too deep in the Governor's web, too entangled in whatever lies he'd fed her. Even Amy's presence wasn't enough to pull her fully to our side.

I could see the disappointment in Amy's eyes, the silent plea for her sister to choose us, to choose her. But the fact that Andrea hadn't already made that choice spoke volumes.

Andrea's desperate optimism grated on me, especially as she locked eyes with Amy, trying to sell her version of peace. "There is room at Woodbury for all of you," she continued, her voice filled with hope that left a bad taste in my mouth.

"You know better than that. 'Philip,'" I mocked, the bitterness in my tone clear. "He's not the type to negotiate. Even you have to see that by now."

Andrea's eyes flickered with uncertainty, but she held her ground. "We can settle this."

Before I could respond, Amy's low voice cut through the tension, surprising everyone. "Why did you even come here?"

Andrea hesitated, her eyes softening as she turned back to her sister. "Because he's gearing up for war. The people are terrified. They see you as killers. They're training to attack. This isn't a war that needs to happen—Amy, how can you say that? I'm your sister."

Amy only scoffed, her face hardening as she turned away, storming off into the cell blocks without another word. The sting of her rejection was clear in Andrea's eyes, but before she could react, Rick stepped forward, his gaze locked on hers.

"I'll tell you what," he said coldly, his voice sharp. "Next time you see Philip, you tell him I'm gonna take his other eye. We've taken too much shit for too long. He wants a war? He's got one."

Andrea's resolve wavered as she pleaded, "Rick, if you don't sit down and try to work this out, I don't know what's gonna happen

"I'll tell you what," he said coldly, his voice sharp. "Next time you see Philip, you tell him I'm gonna take his other eye. We've taken too much shit for too long. He wants a war? He's got one."

Andrea's resolve wavered as she pleaded, "Rick, if you don't sit down and try to work this out, I don't know what's gonna happen

"You wanna make this right? Get us inside," Rick said, his tone unwavering.

Andrea was quick to respond, "No."

"Then we got nothing to talk about," Rick retorted, his expression hardening. With that, he turned and walked away, following in the footsteps of Amy. The group slowly began to dissipate, the initial excitement of Andrea's arrival quickly fading into tension and mistrust.

Seeing the toll it was taking on Amy, I made my way over to her. She was sitting on her bed, her usual bright demeanor clouded by anger and frustration. A look of fury masked her soft features.

"You okay?" I asked gently.

Amy's eyes met mine, the hurt evident in her gaze. "You hopped that wall for Glenn without a second thought. And my own sister is trying to make peace with someone who could've killed me. Axel could've easily been me."

I sighed, trying to choose my words carefully. "It's not just him. It's Woodbury and what it represents. I still struggle with taking my brother away from that life—"

"But you did—easily, for someone you loved," Amy interrupted, her voice tight with emotion.

"There are a lot of innocent people there. Maybe she just wants to save everyone," I offered, trying to make sense of Andrea's choices.

Amy shook her head, her expression hardening. "No. She should be trying to save me. To be here—with me. To fight them—with me."

I sat down beside Amy, feeling the weight of her words settle between us. I could understand her pain, the betrayal she felt from her sister's actions. The bond they had once shared seemed distant now, and it hurt to see Amy so disillusioned by someone she had looked up to for so long.

"Maybe she's lost," I suggested quietly. "Maybe she doesn't know how to come back from everything that's happened."

Amy looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "We're all lost, Majesty. But we're still here, fighting. She's not. She's trying to make nice with the people who are trying to destroy us."

I didn't have a response to that. She was right, and it pained me to see her so disappointed. But I knew that trying to sway Andrea from her path wasn't something any of us could do. She had to make that choice herself, just like we all had.

"I just don't want to lose her again," Amy whispered, her voice breaking.

I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace. "You won't. No matter what happens, you won't lose her. She's still your sister."

Amy nodded against my shoulder, though I could feel the doubt lingering in her mind. We stayed like that for a while, holding onto each other as the uncertainty of the future loomed over us. There were no easy answers, no clear path forward.

Andrea came into the room then, peering down at Amy. "I want you to come back with me."

"No," I answered quickly. "You're not going to take Amy there without even knowing if he would let you back in with open arms."

"I know him," she argued.

"No, you think you know him. Or you're ignoring it—it doesn't matter. All that matters is how you make this right."

"I'm trying to make it right!"

"Look at your sister—you two are the only thing you need to make right."

"You're right. And she doesn't deserve to be living like this in these conditions when she had a life in a place that's actually worth living."

"Are you serious?" I laughed, outraged at her stupidity. "You think Michonne can live there? Merle? Daryl? Rick? Any of us? Use your brain. There's only one way to make this right," I pressed, standing to look her dead in the eyes.

"And what is that?"

I dropped my voice to a whisper. "You go back. Alone. You tell him whatever he wants to hear so he knows you're on his side. Fuck him. Give him the best night ever. And while he's sleeping it off—you kill him." I shrugged. "It's the only way those and our people—your people—make it through this alive."

Andrea stared at me, half shocked at what I said, but there was a hint of consideration in her eyes. And that was all it took.

"Now you better talk to your sister. Because she ain't going with you. And if you don't do what I say—and they come back here—we're gonna need her. I just hope it isn't one of your boyfriend's bullets that hits her."

I stormed off, hoping that somehow—someway—I had broken through to Andrea. For everyone's sake.