Jovine’s father once told her that regret had no place in the hearts of those who wanted life. Because regret was a bitter poison that withered the souls of men. It was something that corroded one away until all that was left was the shell of a life they could have had. 

So, Jovine never made room for it. She was determined to live with her choices and follow the sage advice of her father, who had gone through enough war and loss to know the devastating effects of living with regret. 

But, Jovine regretted not staying that night. 

When she woke in the morning to the horrified laments for the deceased Empress, regret consumed her like a toxic venom. She could feel the bane of it cripple her. Could feel the overwhelming torment of it all pierce her straight through the heart, until even her breaths felt like a crime. 

She should have stayed with her that night. She should have known something was wrong. After all the strange things she had said, she never should have left the Empress alone. 

But, she was too selfish to realize the extent of Empress Helene’s grief. She left so easily that night to console her own wounds in solitude, but how blind must she have been to miss all the signs that seemed so clear to her now. With self-resentment burrowing deep within her, Jovine sealed herself in her room, unable to face her husband who had become an orphan overnight. 

Days blurred by as the Empire entered a state of mourning, and when the day of the Royal Funeral arrived, Jovine was a shell of herself.

Laid to rest together at the Imperial Cemetery, Jovine and Richard placed white chrysanthemums atop their headstones, and with the Imperial Family and the people of Theolos, they said goodbye to the gracious sovereigns of the Empire, who had ruled with justice and compassion. They said goodbye to Alexander and Helene de Tristaine, who had loved the Empire as much as they had loved each other.

Dressed all in black and shrouded with a veil, Jovine kept her eye on Richard, who in the midst of all this loss, never betrayed a single emotion. She had expected anger or sadness or even resentment from him, but he remained as impassive as ever, silence resting uneasily between them for long days before. 

So, when all was said and done, and they were finally left alone to say goodbye in private, Jovine spoke. “I am so deeply sorry, Richard. For everything,” she whispered shamefully. 

He looked down at her blankly. “Did you push her?” 

Startled, Jovine sputtered, “N-No! How could you ever  think—” 

“Then why should you be sorry? This isn’t your fault,” he said matter-of-factly. 

Jovine looked away, swallowing down the anger sparked from his accusation, and gently placed a hand on his arm. “You’re allowed to grieve. You don’t have to hide it from me.” 

Richard stared ahead at the polished stone carved with the names of his father and mother. “Is it wrong that I don’t feel anything? Maybe I’ve become numb to it all," he mused distantly.  

Jovine made it so that she didn’t flinch away from him. He always held great love for his parents, so to hear him say he didn’t feel anything shattered her. 

Don’t give up on him. 

Empress Helene’s voice echoed in her mind. She was right. Despite how much he might have changed or the lack of human warmth from him, she would never give up on her husband. She loved him, and she would stand by him until the end.  

So, Jovine simply took his hand and held on, saying goodbye to not only the fallen monarchs, but to a period of their life she knew they would never get back. 

And, when he left her without a word, shaking off her touch, she simply held onto him with her heart, watching him stalk away from her on that particularly gray day. 

I will never give up on you, Richard. Until my last breath, I will stand by you. 

Regret burned through like a poison. 

And, Jovine would come to regret the vow she made that day.