Oh, how badly your queen misses you.

Her darling love; her greatest treasure. She misses you when you wind your arms around her neck, her heart aches with longing for your touch when you press your lips to hers.

And when you say 'I love you', she feels as though she'd give up all the jewels and gold of the world, if only to hear those words from your lips again.

The real you, she means. The one from the waking world.

The one she'd gone and gotten killed.

Alas, this golden dream is all she has left of you.

You smile at her, yet all she wants to do is weep..

She won't, though. You needn't know how your presence tears her asunder, how every moment of her sober sees her mourn her losses.

You needn't know your beloved is such an utter failure.

So, she won't tell you. The spice bites her throat as she swallows, and the wine leaves a burn as it goes. A few more, and she'll lose her grief at the bottom of a golden chalice, and pretend all is good and well. Your body is warm near her, all too real to be a fake (if only not for her mind that troubles her with knowledge of otherwise..)

Until she finds a way to fix all she had broken, this shall have to be enough.