Of course she misses Asch. She grieves for the bold and bright little boy he once was, for the doomed young man he grew into, for the son of Duke Fabre, for the leftover ashes from the light of the sacred flame, for her fiancé. Even after the appropriate period of mourning passes, and she changes her black veil for the fine clothes of a princess, she remembers.

Of all of them, Guy is the one who writes to her most frequently. He's resumed his title of count in Grand Chokmah, and in almost every letter he sends he details his new life. "Jade escaped the palace today and ran out into the streets," one letter says. "The rappig, not the Colonel. I spent hours looking for him before I found him rooting in a dumpster in a back-alley. Sure is tough being nobility!" His letters make her smile, despite how grossly inaccurate his approximation of the true life of a noble is, and she begins to confide in him, little by little, her worries. She still hasn't forgotten his offer back in Inista Marsh to come live with him in Malkuth, and despite how blushingly bold it had been, she remembers how happy she felt then, knowing that someone cared.

"Kimlasca-Malkuth relations are still quite thorny," she writes him. "Despite the official peace, there is a distressing amount of anti-Malkuth sentiment among my people. We shall need to meet with the Emperor soon to discuss this."

"If Emperor Peony suggests an imperial marriage to you, ignore him, he's kidding," Guy writes back. "Although on a more serious note, he would like to send an official envoy to Kimlasca to discuss public affairs, myself included. Will I see you soon?"

She reads this letter three times before she leans back and thinks about it. A marriage of nobility would indeed seal the peace treaty and soften public image, although as primary heir to the throne, she couldn't possibly marry Emperor Peony without uniting the two thrones as one empire, something out of the question. Still, she's a duty-conscious princess, and if it would benefit her kingdom she would have no problem marrying someone a bit lower on in the hierarchy, someone who could be a prince consort and come live with her in Kimlasca, someone like —

— no, she scolds herself instantly, she can't possibly think like that.

The Emperor is as good as his word, as within the week an envoy arrives at the castle. Guy is among them, looking handsome in his fine clothes, and as he spots her from a distance he gives her a genuine smile. They dine in the grand hall that evening, the envoy and the royal family and the court of lower nobles, keeping the conversation light and frivolous. Guy is seated at the other end of the table, too far for them to converse, but she sneaks him glances as they eat, and once she could swear she catches him looking at her too. After dinner he offers to walk with her through the gardens — "Nothing else, Your Majesty, I swear," he promises her father, which makes her blush to the ears — and he escorts her away through the fronds and flowers. They talk lightly about how they've been, the same easy, superficial things from their letters, and before they know it they find themselves alone on a terrace overlooking the city.

"How are you?" he asks quietly, after a moment of silence; they both survey the grand city, impressive even by moonlight. She gives him a confused look; he had already asked her that question, and she had said fine, as well as could be. "I mean really," he amends. "I know things were hard for you after — after Asch, and then Luke came back but he and Tear..." he trails off. "Too personal?"

She laughs, and it catches him by surprise. "I don't think I'll ever really be over him, of course," she says. "A person never really is, in a situation like this. But we wanted to change this country, together, and that's what I'm going to do." Even if it means marrying politically, she thinks, especially if he's handsome and kind and understanding like —

"I'm ready to keep going," she says, and it's the truth, because they were never lovers but if they were she has a feeling, just a tiny gut instinct, that Asch would have never been the jealous kind, the one who would cast a pall over her and follow her after death to be his forever. He would have wanted her to live, to laugh and be vibrant but always remember her oath to Kimlasca.

"I'm glad," he says, and smiles, and before she can react he reaches out and brushes a stray hair from her face. It's a small gesture, but it means everything.

"Guy, you — " she says, flabbergasted. "You touched me."

He laughs self-consciously. "I've been practicing," he says, then seems to realize how terrible that sounds. "No, not like that! I've been trying to shake women's hands and stuff. You know. Little steps."

"It's a start," she says, and twines her fingers through his. Until recently she wouldn't have felt ready for this, and would have been sure Guy wasn't either, but she only feels a buoying, exhilarating certainty now, and Guy must feel the same, because after only the smallest hesitation he squeezes her hand, tightly.