The music swells softly as the doors open.

All eyes turn toward you.

At the end of the aisle stands Sabo, tall, steady, dressed far more formally than anyone has probably ever seen him. His usual confident composure falters the moment he sees you.

For a second, he just stares.

Then he smiles, warm, bright, a little disbelieving.

His gloved hand presses briefly over his chest as if steadying his racing heart.

“…You look incredible,” he says under his breath when you finally reach him.

And for once, the Revolutionary Chief of Staff looks completely undone.