Emma's hands shook so violently, she nearly dropped the little box. She blinked furiously, but tears kept gathering in her eyes, threatening to overwhelm her; her throat closed over the unshed tears, stealing the air from her lungs. Trembling, she shifted the box to one hand and pushed the door open.

Baelfire was seated by the window, his glaring eyes fixed on Midas' ship floating atop the green sea. He barely glanced up at the sound of Emma's skirts brushing against the floor, his eyes darting away only briefly before returning to the ship.

"He'll be here by evening," he said darkly. "I hope the bastard drowns before then. Let the sea get him, since I can't kill him myself."

Emma closed her eyes, feeling a trail of tears run down her face. She'd ran to her room after Regina released her, nearly tore her shelves apart to find the little box that held Baelfire's heart, preparing to fling it open and crush the heart before she had another minute to think about what she was doing. It had to be done, she knew that, but…when she held it in her hands, felt the beat of his still-living heart… she couldn't. Not without seeing him one more time.

But seeing him now…? This was one more time. Which meant it would be the last time. "You're crying."

Emma opened her eyes to see Baelfire looking at her, his normally bright gaze clouded over with concern and wariness. His eyes drifted toward the box in her hands.

"And you've got my heart again."

She didn't tell him not to worry this time; she didn't make any moves to reassure him. She wasn't going to lie to him. Emma took a few more shaky steps forward, nearly closing the distance between them.

"Don't speak into it," Baelfire said unexpectedly. His eyes were haunted, graying as he stared at the box, swallowing hard. "You can lock me up in the dungeons again if you don't trust me against Midas, but I beg of you—don't speak into it. The last time you did…"

Emma turned her head, feeling a fresh round of tears against her eyes.

"It was like I was possessed by a demon," he said, almost in awe. "A demon who used my words and bound my mind…I thought some evil spirit had taken hold of me, until I realized it was but the dark magic you cast over my heart." He shook his head, giving a shaky little laugh. "I thought you were so evil, so cold and dark…" His eyes trailed up and rested on her. "I couldn't have been more wrong."

"Why are you saying these things?" she whispered, feeling her heart break into smaller pieces with his every word.

"And why do you cry?" he asked, getting up from his seat to kneel in front of her. "What's happened to you?"

Emma looked at him, trembling with the effort of controlling her tears. "Regina took my heart. Only for a few moments, but…to know that I've inflicted this kind of suffering and torment on you for months—" she choked back a sob—"to do that to another human being is true evil. I am every bit as dark and cold as you thought, Baelfire."

"Everyone has darkness in them, but you are not dark," he said, looking at her intently. "You are capable of mercy and compassion, how could you think yourself dark?"

Because I know I am also capable of murder and betrayal. Emma tore her eyes away from him and forced herself to lift the lid of the box. Baelfire inhaled sharply as she closed her hand around the heart and raised it. The box toppled off her lap, splintering as it hit the ground, but she barely heard it: her gaze was fixed on the heart, beating insistently.

"What are you doing?" he asked warily, shifting away from her.

"You can hardly feel anything when your heart is out of your chest," she said. "I didn't realize until Regina ripped mine out, but I have been allowing it to make decisions for me."

Baelfire shook his head slightly. "I don't understand."

"How can you not understand? I should have killed you!" she cried, shaking the heart in her hand. "I should have killed you that day in the throne room, but I didn't, I couldn't bear it! I told myself there was a logical reason for you keeping you alive, but I was lying to myself. I was being selfish. I couldn't bring myself to watch you die."

Emma looked at him, her voice trembling as she tried to force her hand closed. "But now I must," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Baelfire."

"Wait."

His eyes were fixed on the heart, almost trancelike. "Just for a moment," he breathed. "Give it back to me for a moment. I don't want to die without knowing…"

Emma shook her head helplessly. "I can't," she said, her voice breaking. "You could run, try to escape, and then—"

"Grant a dying man's wish." Baelfire tore his eyes away to look at her. "Emma, please…"

I can't, she wanted to tell him, but the words died in her throat. She still felt the horror of seeing her heart gripped in Regina's hand: her few moments spent in Hell made it impossible for her to deny Baelfire a final moment of peace.

"Just for a moment."

Baelfire flickered a smile at her, which faded almost instantly. Emma shut her eyes, bracing herself, and in one fluid motion, pushed the heart into his chest. Her eyes flew open as he let out a gasp; he put his hand to his chest.

"Baelfire?"

He lifted his head, looking at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. "Emma…" he breathed.

Emma's eyes darted between his. It was as if he'd been transformed, something resurrected behind hisdead gaze. There was life in his eyes, a soul visible inside them.

"You're different," he said softly, ghosting his fingers along the edge of her face. "Or maybe I am. I'm not quite sure."

Emma closed her eyes, feeling his hand cup the side of her face; he moved closer, his breath tickling her lips, only just brushing the air between them…

"No," she said, opening her eyes and breaking the spell. "You have to leave."

"What?"

Emma shook her head, pulling him to a stand. "You have to leave, it's not safe for anyone if you stay here a day longer."

"I don't understand—"

"I will arrange for a ship to leave tonight, bound for a port far from here. I can give you money and provide you with safe passage, but it has to be tonight." Emma strode across the room, flinging open the wardrobe to pull out the clothes. "Midas will ask Regina to send me away before they start any sort of discussions. You need to be ready to leave: we won't have much time to sneak past her guards, but I think we can manage if you follow closely and don't ask questions."

"But what about Regina?" Baelfire walked toward her, looking confused. "If she finds me gone, she'll kill you. You said so yourself—"

"Baelfire," Emma said desperately. "I will worry about Regina. All you need worry about is getting out of here without being seen."

Baelfire frowned. "I'm not going to leave you to deal with her on your own. I've seen what that woman can do."

"And I can do what that woman can do," Emma insisted. "And if you don't leave, she'll either rip out your heart in front of me and force me to watch you die, or rip out mine and make me do it myself. Don't you see? Either way, you die, and I can't let that happen!"

"Then come with me. Emma—" he said over her protests, taking her hand. "Come with me."

"No, I can't," she said, shaking her head. "I need to be here. I-I'll think of something to tell Regina, just make sure you're ready by the time I get back." She slid her hand out of his to walk past him. "I have to go, I need to think about how to do this."

"Wait—" Baelfire caught her arm, turning her around. "Emma—"

"What?" she said exasperatedly. "You're wasting time, what is it?"

He pulled her a little closer. "I don't want you to put yourself in danger for me. It's not worth it. I've cheated death too many times, I don't want you risking it on my behalf."

Emma snatched her arm back. "It is my life," she told him. "It is mine to risk or not risk, as I see fit."

"As is mine. Just—I don't know, return me to cell or something, whatever will sate Regina. But don'tgive her a reason to hurt you."

Emma didn't answer; she turned away and strode out the door, her mind racing as much as her heart.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Mother."

"You look miserable."

Emma lifted the corners of her mouth, just as the the doors burst open and Midas swept in, followed by a train of his officers and councilmen. He was tall, with the rounded chest of a man who had been muscular in his youth, and golden curls framing a lion-like face. Shrewd eyes flicked lazily around the room as he strode in, his elaborate cape billowing behind him.

Regina rose from her throne, bowing her head gracefully. "King Midas," she said silkily. "I trust your journey went smoothly?"

"The sea was calm and the weather fair," Midas said, flourishing a hand. "However, I am thankful to be on dry land again, and eager to fill my belly."

Emma felt her smile sour on her lips. Midas carried himself with an air of lazy entitlement,: characteristic of all kings, she supposed, but grating nonetheless.

"How lucky we've prepared such a splendid feast for you," Regina said with a wry smile, clearly mirroring Emma's thoughts. "It's waiting for us in the great hall. Naturally, your councilmen are welcome to join us."

"And this lovely young creature as well, I expect?"

Midas' eyes lingered on Emma, trailing down her form. A wave of nausea threatened in the pit of her stomach as Baelfire's words echoed in her mind: She was but thirteen—little more than a child, but his eyes preyed on her every time she walked in the room. Emma dropped her eyes, fighting the urge to vomit. This was the man who had raped and murdered little Gwendolyn. This was the man who had destroyed every light in Balefire's life. This was the man who had ripped a family apart for his own selfish, loathsome desires.

"This is my daughter," Regina said, placing a hand on Emma's shoulder. "And yes, she will be joining us. I'm sure she's eager to hear tales of your homeland."

Midas laughed bitterly. "Does she find dragon infestations fascinating?"

"I'm sure we'll find something to talk about," Regina replied. "Shall we?"

The long dining table in the great hall had been lavishly set, with rich smells wafting off steaming dishes: roasted meats, salt-and-peppered vegetables, freshly baked bread, and—courtesy of Midas—an exotic, vibrant fruit called "firefruit". Apparently, it grew from apple seeds that had been scorched by dragon's flame, as Midas explained to Emma in great detail. Emma smiled politely, taking a sip of her wine.

"How very interesting," she said when he had finished.

"It is considered a rare delicacy by many," Midas said, ripping another chunk of bread from a loaf. "However, once we have made our countries sisters, I'm sure you will consider it a staple, like us."

"I look forward to it." Emma folded her hands in her lap to conceal how much they were trembling. She was sitting here, wiling away the hour as if she hadn't a care in the world as Midas rambled on about fruit; meanwhile, Baelfire was waiting for her to lead him down to the docks and get him safely aboard the ship.

"I'm told you are quite gifted in magic," Midas said bluntly as he pulled apart a chicken leg. "Is it true?"

"Emma has a natural talent for many things," Regina said before Emma could open her mouth. "She is more than I ever hoped for."

The words were kindly, but Emma couldn't help feeling unsettled: Regina's smile didn't reach her eyes, and there was a steely coolness to her voice that made it sound more like an insult than a compliment.

Midas rested his chin on his fist, giving her an appraising look. "I'm also told she's very intelligent," he said, studying her as though she were a particularly fine horse he was considering buying. "Good mind for strategy and learning."

"Very," Regina agreed. "In perfect health, as well."

Emma frowned, looking toward Regina curiously at the unexpected comment. What would Midas care about her health? This wasn't a social visit.

"She's slight," Midas said dubiously. "Doesn't look very strong."

"She's young," Regina said, waving her hand. "Plenty of time to grow into her strength."

"Yes, well…hopefully she doesn't need plenty of time," Midas grumbled. "A throne without heirs is an unstable throne."

Emma choked on her wine. "I'm sorry, what?" she coughed.

"Adam's young, too," Regina said smoothly. "There will be more than enough time to stabilize his throne."

"I might feel less apprehensive about it if the North wasn't such a recent acquisition," Midas said. "But it is, and Adam needs to establish a strong family line before the nobles become restless. No one wants another cousins' war."

Emma looked between them quickly, feeling her heart hammer in her chest. What was all this talk of heirs and thrones? Who was Adam? Why were they sizing her up and discussing strong family lines at the same time?

"Excuse me," she said, suddenly feeling very ill. "I've just been plagued with the most horrific headache."

"Emma," Regina said, smiling through clenched teeth. "I'm sure you don't want to be rude to our guest."

"Let the girl rest," Midas said, saving Emma the trouble of thinking of an excuse. "We have far too much to discuss, anyway. Perhaps it's best if she get out from underfoot."

"Thank you, my lord," Emma said quietly, bobbing him a quick curtsy.

Midas waved her away and turned back to Regina, reengaging her in their conversation. Emma walked away quickly, trembling as she caught the words "betrothal" and "blood alliance".

Of course, it made sense, she reflected somewhere in the back of her mind as her footsteps echoed down the corridor. Midas wouldn't be satisfied with an alliance based on promises and mutual trust: such things didn't exist in politics. But an alliance through marriage, securing the fate of their kingdoms permanently…that would convince him. And Regina stood much to gain from it, too: Adam (who must have been Midas' son) was apparently ruling his father's most recent conquest in the North. The North was known for its rich diamond mines and exotic furs and a fortress so impenetrable, Winter was the only enemy who'd been able to invade in over two hundred years. Not only would it earn Regina another powerful ally, but any heir Emma produced with Adam would be a very influential ruler one day.

There were so many strong alliances being formed, so many conquests pooled together, so many lives and futures being built…and all depending on her. Regina would be able to fall back on Midas and Adam to win her Misthaven…and then usher in the golden age of sorcery, but was that even her purpose anymore? She had always painted the image of Emma being at her side when she put the tip of the sword to King David's neck and watched the dark red blood slowly trickle down; of Emma sitting beside her on the twin thrones, marveling at the thought of magic being freely practiced in their new kingdom, where women owned themselves rather than men owning them. And yet, she was prepared to sell Emma like livestock, to build this vision?

She knew, logically, it was the most reasonable and strategic thing to do; and she knew that if she didn't agree to it, it not only didn't matter, but she would also be responsible for trying to stem the rise of her people. Too long they had suffered, too long had they hidden away in shadows; too long they had been treated with suspicion and disrespect. She could not bring herself to sabotage the chance to change that.

She didn't realize it, but she had walked herself straight to Baelfire's door. Numbly, she pushed it open, her mind still heavy with the sinking realization of what Regina and Midas were planning.

He looked away from the window at the sound of her footsteps. "I'm not leaving, you know," he said, turning to face her. "I meant what I said earlier: I'm not leaving you to face Regina alone. You protected me from her for too long; I owe you a debt, if nothing else."

Emma's eyebrows rose. "No, Baelfire," she said firmly. "You are leaving. And that is how you can repay your debt, by sparing Midas' life and leaving."

Baelfire looked at her, horrorstruck. "But Regina—!"

"Is no longer a problem," Emma said swiftly. "She needs me alive, she's not going to hurt me."

"Needs you alive?" Baelfire repeated, walking closer. "For what?"

Emma shook her head. "We don't have time for this, Baelfire. The ship—"

"Needs you alive for what?"

Emma let out a frustrated breath. "I told you, we don't have time for this!" she hissed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him after her. "Now, come on!"

Baelfire protested, but Emma's grip was too strong for him to do anything but hurry along after her. She led him through corridors, down staircases, through the winding and shadowy halls that seemed so sinister now that night had fallen.

"And how the blazes are you going to get me past that lot?" Baelfire demanded as they heard the clashing footsteps of the metal-armored guards. Emma turned around, pulling the hood of the cloak over his head.

"Stealth," she whispered. "And if need be, I can get rid of them." She flexed her fingers, and his eyes rounded with understanding. Magic.

Like two thieves, they snuck against the wall, keeping out of sight and out of the torches' glow. Emma kept her hand at the ready, prepared to wipe out any guard who so much as glanced at them, but they made it through smoothly and without they were outside, though, Baelfire stopped, ripping the hood off his head."I'm not taking another step until you tell me why Regina needs you alive," he said stubbornly. "If that's even the truth."

"It is the truth," Emma sighed. "This isn't the time for questions, though; the ship leaves soon."

"Then you'd better talk fast, hadn't you?"

Emma glowered at him, clenching her fists. " Fine," she said coldly. "Regina needs me alive because she plans to marry me to Midas' son to secure an alliance."

Baelfire's eyes widened. "What?"

Emma didn't answer him; she slid her gaze away and continued on the path to the ship docks. After a minute, she heard Baelfire's boots jogging after her.

"Emma," he said, falling into step beside her. "You can't marry him."

"Yes, I can. And I will." Emma drew in a determined breath, staring ahead. "It's for the greater good."

"No—Emma—" Baelfire caught her arm, turning her around to face him. "You can't marry him. You know what it's like, once a woman marries: she's owned by her husband, like a slave. Especially a royal's wife. You can't waste everything you are on a marriage, Midas' son will bleed your soul dry."

"I know what I'm doing, Baelfire," Emma said steely. "I don't need a man to protect me from another man."

"I'm not—" Baelfire frustratedly shut his eyes—" trying to protect you."

"Then what is it you're trying to do?" she challenged.

Baelfire opened his eyes, looking at her in such a way, she involuntarily took a step back: there was warmth, concern, fear, desperation, longing, tenderness…all ingredients something she was afraid she was getting to know too well.

"Baelfire," she said waveringly, her voice having lost all its strength and anger now. "Listen to me. You're confusing gratitude for…other feelings right now. Don't—don't get lost in it and start thinking in spirals. You're simply grateful for being treated better than in the dungeons and for having your heart back. That's all it is."

"I don't think so," he said in a low voice, stepping closer.

"Yes, is is," she insisted desperately, bracing her hands against him as he came closer still. She glanced over at the port in the not-so-distant distance, the moonlight tracing the outline of the sails and the strong stern of the ship. Baelfire followed her gaze, and slowly looked back, eyeing her warily.

"Emma…"

"If you hold any sort of regard for me at all," she whispered, her voice uneven with unspilled tears, "you will get on that ship now, and not look back."

Without waiting for an answer, she dropped her hands and turned around, hurrying back up to the castle. She didn't look back, didn't turn to see whether or not he'd done as she asked. She wasn't going to torture herself with one last look before he was gone, forever.

Gone forever.