"Yes." No hesitation anymore. No shame. Just pure want. "I want them to know I'm yours."
The transformation still amazes me. Six months ago, she'd have died before admitting something like that. Now she says it like a prayer.
"Later," I promise, lips against her throat. "After we deal with Fenwick's latest tantrum."
She groans. "He's testing me again."
"Testing us. Seeing if pregnancy has made you soft."
"Then he's about to learn better." Steel creeps into her voice. The tone she uses when people underestimate her. "I didn't survive you just to let some backwards lord treat me like decoration."
I laugh against her skin. "My fierce queen."
"Your omega queen," she corrects, and the title sends heat straight through me.
We're interrupted by a sharp knock. Business never stops, not even for bonded alphas and their pregnant omegas.
"Enter," I call.
A nervous servant steps in. He tries not to look at Elise, who's clearly naked under the silk sheets.
"Word from the other courts, Your Majesty. They're beginning to make their moves."
The implications hit immediately. Our success has triggered the next phase. The other courts aren't waiting anymore.
"Tell the High Council the timeline remains unchanged," I decide. "Eight bonds or both worlds face the consequences."
After he leaves, Elise sits up. Silk slides down her body, and I have to force myself to focus.
"It's really happening."
"The prophecy was always going to happen. Our success just proved it's possible."
"And if the others face more resistance?"
"Then we adapt." I meet her eyes. "The prophecy isn't optional, Elise."
She's quiet for a moment. Then nods with the kind of acceptance that shows how much she's changed.
"Will you be involved?"
"Only if requested. Each court finds their own path." I pause. "Though your perspective might be valuable. You understand both sides."
"Then I'll help however I can." Her voice is matter-of-fact. Cold. "The alternative is worse than any individual suffering."
The pragmatism should disturb me. Instead, it fills me with dark pride. She's learned to think like a true Fae noble. Weighing lives and consequences with the dispassion needed to rule.
An hour later, we're in the council chamber. Elise sits beside me in her own throne, equal in height and prominence. A deliberate statement about her status that some lords still haven't accepted.
Lord Fenwick enters with his usual swagger. He thinks pregnancy will make her easier to manipulate. Thinks carrying heirs will turn her back into the decorative omega he believes she should be.
He's about to learn how wrong he is.
"Your Majesty," he says to me, barely glancing at Elise. "I've prepared formal challenges to several recent... policies."
The dismissal is deliberate. He's treating her like she's not even here.
"Address your queen directly," I say, voice dropping several degrees. "These were her policies."
