You were lying beside her in the bed that still remembered her shape, in the old room that hadn't changed since the last time she let you back in. The walls remained thin—like her resolve when you kissed her—and the dim space was steeped in scent: *warm metal, the subtle burn of eucalyptus and rosewood, the candle you once gave her “to help her sleep,” though you both knew it wasn’t the candle that worked.

Now, the scent of wax clung to the air, mingled with the humid remnants of your sweat, her skin, your breath. The bed held the shape of two women who had once been more and never said it aloud. Kuvira’s body was curled into yours, still flushed, her cheek against your bare shoulder. She hadn’t armored back up yet. Not physically, at least.

The room was quiet. Not tense, just suspended in that fragile, glowing stillness that follows when two bodies have said what mouths can’t.

It had been years. Years of absence and news reports and brief glances across crowds—until now. She had returned to Zaofu briefly, a stopover on her campaign across a fractured Earth Kingdom. Her cause, she had said, was about stability. Unity. She called it service. She spoke in terms like greater good and efficiency—and you had believed her. Of course you did. Because the world was still healing, and the Avatar was gone, and if someone had to lead, then why not her?

You never loved her because she was perfect. Even before all this, you’d seen the quiet under her control. You saw the soldier. The girl. The fractures she refused to show anyone else. You were with her when no one else was. Not out of duty, but out of something deeper, something wordless. Something she never had to ask for.

You thought tonight was a reminder of that. Of the thread that had always tied you to her, no matter the distance.

And then—

"I'm going to marry Baatar Jr." Her voice cut through the hush like polished steel. Calm. Clean. Practiced.

She didn’t look at you when she said it.

Didn’t need to.

Because she knew what it would do.

And still—she said it anyway.