The phrase came to Liz as she got ready for bed. She shook her head ruefully at the thought that it might have come from Max. Of course they couldn't communicate like that. Of course. But the feeling persisted as she brushed her teeth. And the more she thought about it, it seemed like that had been a translation of sorts, that Max had not said those words, but others, in another language. She shook her head again. She was letting her imagination run away from her. All this because of a silly dream! There had been some bad food at the cafeteria or something, that was the reason for the voices. She ignored the feeling she had remembered the conversation. It couldn't be real, thus it had to be ignored.

She couldn't help but send back her own feelings of sorrow and longing as she pulled the covers up to her chin, chagrined that she was giving in to such fancies. She pulled her teddy bear close, wishing it was Max. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep from crying, but was soon lost in a dream.

*****

He reached out to touch her arm. "This may be the last night I ever see you. Must you go so soon? It is not yet day. Stay but longer, m'allia." He feathered a touch on her cheek.

Max reached across his pillow in his sleep, longing for the warmth that, in another lifetime, had once again left him for the sake of propriety and destiny.

He knew that a king could not, should not desire a peasant, yet he knew they were linked, even before the reven-daai. Once again she left him. And once again he woke to see he had been dreaming, seeing the blond hair spilling over the pillow, the one who tricked him, who had spun her web of lies, yet lead him to his soulmate. Liz felt a hand brush her cheek and turned into the phantom caress, letting her body move in sleep as she could not allow it while awake.

"You know I cannot stay. She cannot know. I cannot allow the love we have in this life jeopardize what we may have in the next. You know they will kill you, not today or even this maurean, yet you know they will overthrow you. They are more powerful than you know. I cannot bear to know that they will erase your essence. But we are one. Soulmates. You see why I must leave you. They must not have us both." She lowered her eyes as a single tear escaped. "One of us must be left behind. It cannot be you."

His heart wrenched in his chest at her words. His m'allia, ever the pragmatist. The only one who could move him from his silent dutifulness, to heights of passion no one, not even the skilled courtesan he was forced to call his wife, could ever match. But also the one with the words that, however he hated to hear them, reminded him of the truth.

She rose from the bed with silent steps, and looked back but once through the diaphanous bedcurtain. Her tears glistened in the light of a single candle, but she did not need the light to know that the king was weeping too.

Max's pillow was wet when he woke in the middle of the night.

*****