The door opens in front of me. My earlier poetic thoughts about his appearance wash away as I see him up close and realize just how sick he really looks. Cadavers have worn healthier glows, and my heart breaks. What has this war done to him?

"Please, come in." He steps out of the way, leaning too much against the door to successfully hide it. I pretend not to see as I step in. "Ollem, if you would collect our lunches?"

"Of course, milord." He goes.

I slide into a seat at the table, and Aster's steps shuffle behind me before he settles heavily into his own. Glancing at the open door, I lower my voice. "Aster, what is wrong?"

He looks away. "Can we—can we just eat lunch?"

I try to wipe the sympathy from my face. "Of course."

He studies the table, and I kick myself for bringing anything up.

Voice soft, he asks, "How are you?"

The usual 'fine' dies in my mouth. I fiddle with my charm. "Reeling, a little, I guess. Still trying to make sense of everything."

He nods, and I'm glad he understands what I mean. So often, he understands when I don't expect him to.

"I meant to already have everything set up," he says. "I'm sorry for losing track of time."

"I don't have anywhere to be." And I'd rather be here than lost in my room.

He nods again, and we wait for Ollem. After he sets our plates in front of us, he makes himself scarce, and we eat. Aster's hand trembles. I turn my gaze to my food.

As the minutes stretch, I wonder again what he called me here for. My curiosity burns, but I hold the embers on my tongue. He'll speak when he's ready.

"What were you going to do now?" he asks.

I glance up, brow drawn at his strange wording, but his expression is soft and unreadable. "Stay a page, I guess, as long as they'll let me." My fork slides around the plate. "I've saved a bit of money. Maybe when N'veauvia rebuilds, I'll move into the city. Find something I'm better suited for." It's so odd not being able to ask the question back—he'll stay the prince, lead his people, be part of the rebuilding.

"I..." I look up at him again, but he's staring at the table. Finally, he meets my gaze, setting down his shaky fork. "I have a request, if you're willing to hear me out."

I set mine down as well, brow drawing. "Of course."

"I would like to propose to you."

I choke on air and grab for my napkin to cover my shock. "A job, you mean?" I say, dabbing my lips. Of course that's what he means. How in his right mind would he—

A wry smile hesitantly tips one side of his mouth. "Only as much as Princesse Consort is considered a job."

My mind spins. This isn't like him—spontaneous, rushed, selfish. "Aster, you're not making sense."

He holds up a hand. "It's not out of some whim. I don't want you to live a commoner, struggling to make ends meet for the rest of your life. Even if you did manage to stay a page, do you realize how long it would take you to scrape together enough money to buy a place in the city, much less live there sustainably? And I doubt Reyan will abide you working here for long."

Money, jobs, security. My hands tremble, and I fold my napkin into my lap. This is sweet and insanely generous—and about economy. "I'll make my way. I always do." I try to assure him with my smile, but he shakes his head.

"Leavi, I—" He watches me, pain warring in his deep brown eyes. "I want you to be taken care of. Nothing else will guarantee that, and—you should be." He looks away, voice tight, and I wish I could reach out and take away all the fear, pain, and worry. "I want you to be taken care of when I'm gone."

His profile reminds me of a skull. "Don't talk like that."

He faces me again. His expression is the quiet, flat face of a gravestone. "I'm sick, Leavi."

I want to argue that doesn't mean anything, but it obviously does to him. I twine my hands in my lap. "Then we'll—we'll study a cure. Let me take a blood sample. Maybe—" But even as I say it, I know it's impossible, and his face says he does too. Even if I knew what was wrong, I didn't study medicine, not like a doctor would, and even if I had, all my best tools are back in Karsix and Erreliah.

I can examine him, but I can't cure him any more than I could the plague victims.

"I know what happened. And I know that I don't have long. But I can do this for you. There's not much left that I'll be able to accomplish, but I can do this for you."

A thousand reasons I should refuse fly to mind—the court will be angry, it's disingenuous, his wife just died—but nothing escapes my lips. I don't want to say no, but that's not because I want to be a princess. I want him to ask me for his sake, not mine. I want him to ask me because he's going to live a long, long life.

I want him to not ask me because he's going to live a long life.

"Leavi?"

My gaze clears. Beneath the pale, the thin, the sick, his eyes hold the same warmth and intellect they always have. This is the boy who saved me from the rooftop, from the dungeons, from the court. If it makes sense to him, if it's what he wants—

I meet his eyes, nodding just slightly. "I trust you, Aster."

He relaxes. "Are you sure?"

My smile is soft. "Surer than the skies and the stars."

His lips tip up in return, and he resumes eating. "I'll draw up the papers before the dinner tonight, then."

I blink at him. "What?"

"There's going to be a dinner tonight with the Table. I'll have a maid send you clothes and help you prepare."

"I'm coming to dinner tonight." We're getting engaged tonight. The thought steals my air.

He pauses. "I... had hoped. I thought it was better to set things in stone as soon as possible, since I don't know when—"

"That makes perfect sense," I assure. The world feels like shifting stones on the mountainside. I won't be caught in the avalanche, though.

I'm just set to watch all the destruction.

I shove the rogue thought away and offer him a smile. "Tonight. I'll be ready."

He nods, looking relieved, and smiles. We finish our meals, and I rise. He wobbles when he stands but steadies himself, and I don't say anything. He walks me to the door.

"Leavi." I face him, and he takes my hand. "Thank you."

His skin is cold, but I tighten my fingers. Words fall short for what I mean, and we just stay there for a moment, together. As he watches me, I remember his lips brushing my forehead and all the promises he never could make that he finally is making—but only because he won't be here to keep them.

His voice is soft. "You know she and I weren't... close. I wanted—I didn't mean for—" He looks away. When he collects himself, he faces me again. "But I didn't know her like I know you. And I want this castle to take care of you."

I kiss the air by his cheek, voice thick. "Thank you, Aster."

He lets go of my hand and steps back. "I'll see you tonight."

I duck my head and slip out.