"Are you absolutely sure, Princess Sheema?" Marth asked. "The citizens of Gra all adore you, and the soldiers are still grateful to you for saving their lives. Gra has taken a beating, but I'm sure you'll do a great job restoring it to its former glory."

He was a sweet young man. A little naive, Sheema thought, a bit too idealistic for his own good, but he could be plenty firm when he wanted to. Right now, he seemed so adamant that she would be Gra's savior and he believed it so strongly she almost hated to say no.

"Prince Marth," she said, "it's nice that you have so much faith in me, especially after what happened between Gra and Altea."

"I do, and I wish you would have that kind of faith in yourself!" Marth said. "I know you still feel guilty because of the crimes your father committed-"

"Samson said something to you, didn't he?" Sheema interrupted.

"He did, and he agrees with me. If anyone was fit to take Gra's throne, Princess Sheema, it's you."

She was a princess in name only. Her mother was a poor commoner her father had married after the death of his first wife; the need for an heir had been so great that rumors say he selected a woman at random to marry and to bear his child. Sheema had taken so strongly after her mother, a plain and coarse-speaking woman, but rather than criticizing her the people denied it, treating her like the stunning, eloquent beauty they perceived her as.

Sheeema had never played the political games of royalty. Her interest lay with protecting the kingdom and its citizens, that was why she had become a knight after all. Then when her father died and Gra was thrown into disarray she had no choice but to sit on the throne and act as its ruler, and the people's praises of her only grew. Oh, she was a bit rough around the edges, but her inner beauty shone like the sun itself. She was young and still had a lot to learn, but she would learn it all in no time. All hail Queen Sheema.

She told Samson and the others how angry the lies and the blatant denial made her, how she couldn't stand such phony praises. But the truth was if she couldn't live up to their expectations, she knew they'd turn on her in a heartbeat, and that scared her more than anything.

"Please." Marth took her hand in his, and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Prince Marth," she said, "but my mind is made up. I'm not a Queen, and to pretend I am isn't fair to Gra or the citizens. I won't do it."

Marth's face fell as he realized just how serious she was, and she was afraid he might be upset with her. But he looked up and smiled at her instead.

"You speak with such conviction and still insist you're not meant to rule," he laughed. "I must admit I'm disappointed, Princess. I would have loved to have you rule alongside Sheeda and I."

"I'll still help you two in any way I can," she said. "But only as a citizen. Samson is going to settle down in Pales, and I..." She blushed slightly. "I want to go with him. To be his wife."

Marth nodded.

"If that's what you wish," he said. "Princess Sheema-"

"No. It's just Sheema, now."

"Sheema," he corrected himself, "I thank you for all your help and support during the war, and wish you the best of luck in your future."

"I'm sorry," she said, "but maybe you'll have better luck convincing some other nobles." She smiled. "Don't worry so much. You and Princess Sheeda will be all right."

"I hope so, on both counts." Marth smiled. "Well, then, Sheema...until our paths cross again?"

She smiled and shook his hand.

"Good day, Prince Marth."