[ Her eyes drop demurely for a moment, the corners of her smile twitching higher along with a little huff of mirthful air from her nose.

A gentle chide— ]

Do not be unkind to them.

[ —but she leans to kiss his cheek to show she's thankful for the thought all the same. ]

I am sure Byerly has his reasons.

[ It may well have been trained out of him, the keeping of sentimental things. Or perhaps he does not think himself important enough to ask. She doesn't know. It doesn't hurt, but nor does it joy her as this does. ]

And he... [ A pause, and then there is the heart-pierced ache in her eyes that belongs to her husband. ]

He might have kept something without telling me. I did so. If he did not, I— [ she shakes her head slowly— ] we were so sure. So sure that any distance or time was only temporary, that we were already together again because every return was already promised.

[ It had been so true that truth itself had broken the moment she first began to consider that he wasn't coming back. It is still a tenuous thing, her belief that anything can stay, and what little exists is cobbled together of faith and hope. No trust. ]

If there are to be fools, let them be he and I.

[ Alexandrie pauses then, her breath catching as it is drawn through a smile that trembles. She raises a hand to cup his cheek, stroke it gently with her thumb. ]

I do not know what to do, now. It feels my choices are to be a fool again or be afraid.