[ She collects his hand against her cheek with her own, closing her eyes to relish in the touch. It is not Zoya's fault that they are both marching towards different ends, but her presence is an acute reminder of the temporary nature of their arrangement.

Like flowers wilting as summer turns to autumn and to winter.

She turns to press her lips against his palm. ]

You are more self-sacrificial than a saint.

[ To lend himself to her when each day makes their impending separation more painful. She draws his hand to her chest, leaning into his seeking the comfort of embrace. She too is not used to openly seeking the comfort of another. Her survival instinct and stubborn streak are too strong. Her responsibility too heavy to ask anyone to bear with her.

But they can rest together along this long road. ]

And that is why you are a better king than Ravka deserves.

[ Brave and giving of himself. It was once ambition that drove him to the throne, and now it's something so much greater. He is strong enough to do what is right, proudly putting his duty in front of himself when it would be so easy to make other choices.

And in that moment, that is part of why she loves him. How cruel this universe is that it took until now to see it, to see him without his mask.

She murmurs into his chest: ] But please be mine for now.