"As far as they are concerned, you are." I roll onto my side, reaching out to drag the pads of my fingers along her jaw. "That is what we will tell them if they ask. There can be no question. You must act as if it's true."

She closes her eyes, shuddering softly against me. "So, we need to get pregnant as soon as we can."

"Yes."

She's quiet for a long moment, and when she opens her eyes again, something has changed in them.

"If we bring a child into this world together, it should be out of love. Not duty."

Love?

Tension bleeds into my body as I shake my head, but Ivy is quick to stop me before I can speak.

"I know. We have to do this to save my life and protect you from the Tribunal. I understand that. But I need some reassurances from you, Santiago. I need to know if I bring a child into this world with you, that child will be loved. I would rather face my own execution than agree to any other condition. I will not allow my own child to suffer."

"The child will be cared for beyond measure," I force out. "Far beyond any other child."

Ivy studies me, lost in her own thoughts for a few long moments before she gives voice to them. "And what about me? When you get what you want from me, you will kill me?"

I don't want to look at her. I know if I do, my face will betray everything. So instead, I close my eyes, and I kiss her, conveying the truth my words can't.

She whimpers against me, curling her fingers into my shirt. I pull her closer, squeezing her so tightly it must border on the point of pain. But she doesn't protest. She leans into it, giving herself over to me. The nightmare she can't wake up from.

"A child needs a mother," I murmur against her lips.

A confession. Not quite the truth. But I am not willing to admit that perhaps I need her too. Not yet.

She pulls away, breathless, still clinging to my shirt. "A child needs a father too. Not just a disciplinarian. But someone to love and guide them."

Her statement isn't a question, but it feels like one. Can I be that for someone? Am I even capable?

My cell phone starts to vibrate in my pocket, but I ignore it, trapped by my wife's eyes. She needs an answer from me. Assurances. And I am aware I don't need to give them to her. Regardless of her feelings, she will carry my child. But perhaps she is right. Perhaps I want her to want this as much as I do.

"I will do what is necessary," I tell her. "I will provide for you and the children. I will discipline, but I will also... do what fathers do."