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Ashelia couldn’t breath, nor did she realize it. A huge lump was caught in her throat, blocking her airflow. Her mouth opened and closed, gasping like a fish out of the river; it was anything but regal, though the princess couldn’t care less.

Her navy blue eyes fixed unbelievably on the tiny object in her hand: the ring, the very same wedding ring once belonged to her late husband, later ransomed by the sky pirate. It was now nesting on her shaking palm, threatened to drop on the stone-tilted floor.

The ring had been hand-delivered by Penelo a short moment ago. Though the girl hadn’t say much about her sudden delivery, the look on her young face had been a slight sympathetic one. As for why, Ashe did not know; she was never one who pried. Penelo had left shortly after, leaving her alone with the small leather pouch and its content – the ring and a small note.

The Dalmascan hot sun shone brightly on the ring; its precious metal absorbed the heat greedily. The ring began to feel too warm in her hand, though it’s nowhere as burning as the tears stinking her eyes.

Finally survival instinct took over and she choked, taking in a desperate need of oxygen. The warm air filled her lungs and cleared her mind somewhat. There was only one single thought in her mind.

Balthier was alive.

This simple conclusion was too much for her to bear. Ashe’s knees gave in and she crumbled on the sun-burnt balcony, clenching the wedding band tightly in her hand as though her life depended on it. Her manicured nails dug into the flesh of her palm rather painfully; it was the only reminder that she was not at all dreaming. Tears streamed down from her face, yet she couldn’t find her voice to cry out loud, for that, she was glad. She would not want the entire palace to witness the raw emotions of their princess. For a long quiet moment, Ashelia just sat on the floor and wept silently, unbecomingly so, and let go of her all repressed emotions, years overdue. 

Balthier was alive. But he wasn’t here…

That thought snapped her back to reality as hard as a smack on her face would’ve felt. Gathering her wits and dignity as much as she could, Ashe stumbled back her on feet rather ungracefully and reached for the tiny parchment inside the leather pouch.

Give this to our Queen for me, would you?

The princess felt a twitched inside her, an unseen dagger pricked softly at her heart. She willed her hands to stop shaking, failing miserably so, and turned to note over to examine the other side of the message. There had to be something more to it. Just had to. 

Something more valuable: The Cache of Glabados. I await in Bervenia.

Ashe couldn’t believe her eyes; she read and reread the sentence a few times over.

Something more valuable. Not her.

The ring was returned as promised for a new treasure. Not her.

Then something inside her head clicked. The dagger drove home and went for the kill.

Ashe was cold and frozen, despite the hot afternoon sun. She plainly couldn’t feel anything anymore. Tears on her face were dried by the heat; her red brimmed eyes were the only evidence of their presence a moment ago. The wedding band burnt her still clenched palm, Ashe hastily tossed it on the stone table. Its silk decorative table runner softened the landing of the ring, sending it to rotate only once or twice before lying still by the discarded parchment.

Both objects were as cursed as Malboro’s breath. One instantly mended the princess’ once broken heart, the other mercilessly pulverized it beyond recognition.

“Lady Ashe,” a voice brought her out of her reverie. “Lord Larsa’s representative has arrived.”

Ashe both cursed and thanked the intrusion. Steadying her voice as much as she could, and careful not to turn and face the messenger, Ashe waved a dismissive hand. “I shall be there at once.” It was no more than a mumble, but evidentially enough to send the messenger along his way.

Ashelia squared her shouldered and steeled herself. She was to be the queen of her beloved country soon; personal feelings – and heartbreak, if she was honest to herself – were a luxury she couldn’t afford if they hindered her performance as a new ruler. Dalmasca needed her; Balthier did not. Ashelia B’nargin Dalmasca had to be strong, for her country’s sake… and for herself.

~~

“You have missed her, haven’t you?”

“Why, of course I have,” the sky pirate grinned as he ran a loving hand on the control console from the pilot seat. “And I must say Vaan did a good job taking care of her for me.”

“I wasn’t talking about the ship.” The viera responded.

“You think the boy would come along?” He dodged her question rather clumsily. The sky pirate obviously wasn’t at his best; his mind was miles away…

Though she wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily, it would seem. “’Something more valuable’, was it really necessary?” One of her fine eyebrow raised at her partner in crime.

He hid a wince. “Yes,” his tone was suddenly serious. The viera could probably sense the truth from his voice as well as the struggle underneath it. She looked as though she’d almost countered, but stopped when he spoke up once more. “How else could I have lured the boy out to join our treasure hunting?” He asked with a cat grin and a raise of his own eyebrow at her. Once again, his shrewd self was back. He was thankful for its timely presence.

The sky pirate turned his head away from his partner and focused once again on the sky in front of him. He knew he could never stop her from reading him like an open book; the best he could do was to keep his face from her ever perceptive gaze, at least for now.

“The coronation, are you planning to attend?”

He scowls slightly, not at his partner, but rather at her words. “Have we the invitation?” He replied with a quick shrug.

“Do you ever need one?” Came the smug reply.

“Do I not?” He let out a dramatic sigh. “Fran, please. I am neither the young King of Archadia, nor the Prince of Rozzaria…” He snorted curtly at the thought of Rozzarian flamboyant prince. The mere mention of that particular prince left a bitter taste in his mouth.    

He could sense the viera rolled her eyes ever-so slightly. She knew he was dancing around the subject, and he knew she recognized that. His partner didn’t bother to press on with it further. Thankfully, she had an uncanny understanding of him. No words were needed between the two partners as they soared through the clear sky, heading towards their next destination.

Honestly, who was he to waltz into the life of a queen? He was but a sky pirate. Of course, Balthier never needed to voice his thought out loud. He suspected his partner in crime had already picked it up in his eyes. One quick glance over to the viera on the co-pilot seat confirmed his suspicion. Balthier exchanged a meaningful look with Fran that had said more than any words could. She understood him. Fran always did.

He could only wish the young queen would understand him. And forgive him. 

Sometimes, acceptance was for the best.