Dear Baatar,

By the time you receive this, I'm sure you'll have heard the news. The tribunal has finally set a date. By this time next month, I'll be dead. The day can't come fast enough; saving my life to put me through this agonizing monotony of testimonies, trials and sentencings was the cruelest thing the Avatar could have done to me – I'm so relieved that it's about to be over.

I was glad to hear they agreed to spare your life, though – was it Su? Never mind, however it happened, I'm grateful. I hope you'll be free someday – you have so much to offer the world. I never meant for this to happen to you; I would say I'm sorry if I thought it could mean anything to you. Don't worry, I didn't write this to make any pointless apologies. I'm only writing this to take care of one piece of unfinished business before I go. I've thought about writing this letter every day, even begun it several times and stopped because I could never think of the right words, but now I'm almost out of time.

There's something very important I have to tell you before it's too late. I want you to know – no matter what you hear, no matter what people say about me – that I love you. That I truly love you and have always loved you with all my heart. Nothing I said was a lie. I never used you, I never led you on because I needed things from you. My affection was not some act put on to get you on my side. I never thought you had some influence over your family or Zaofu that could make my conquest there easier someday (no one could be that foolishly optimistic). I wanted you with me because I sincerely loved you, not for your help, or your inventions, or your family's connections. I've always admired your intelligence, but I didn't use you for your mind or what you could build for me. Every moment we ever shared together was completely real. I didn't want you for what you could do for my cause but for yourself. What I thought would be my last words to you were completely true: I love you.

I can't expect you to believe me, not after what I did that day. I don't expect anyone will understand what went through my mind in that moment. But please do believe me when I say I didn't want to do it. Like I said at the time, it wasn't worth it. Nothing was more valuable to me than you. The city, the Empire, my cause didn't mean one-tenth as much to me as you did. I wanted to give up and get you back. But I knew at the time it was a selfish wish. It was my duty to conquer the United Republic, to restore the honor my nation lost in the last war. I had to put my duty to my people above my own selfish desires. No, it wasn't worth it, but I couldn't let what I wanted interfere with my mission. As Emperor, I had to sacrifice my own happiness for the good of my people. The only way I could reclaim our stolen lands was to kill the Avatar and her allies, and I couldn't expect such an opportunity to arise again. Even I did, I couldn't show any hesitation or weakness in front of my men; I had to match the invulnerable, merciless persona I'd constructed, or I would lose the fear and respect necessary to maintain my control of the Empire. Accepting the Avatar's terms, or simply refusing and passing up the ideal opportunity for wiping out our greatest opposition, would have crippled my image and my cause. I could neither get you back then nor afford to plan to rescue you later. I did what I had to do for the glory of my Empire. All heroes have to make sacrifices; I saw then that I had to sacrifice the man I loved. I couldn't be selfish or let my heart overrule my head. I had to be strong enough to do my duty. I hope you never know how much it hurt me to fire that blast. I wouldn't wish the pain I felt in that moment on my worst enemy. It was the most painful decision I ever made, but I didn't do it for selfish reasons. I didn't do it because it was easy, because losing you was a small price to pay for a bigger Empire, or even because I wanted to do it at all. It wasn't a callous, selfish move; it was a painful sacrifice that I had to make for the greater good.

I've been living alone with my guilt for months, with nothing to do but relive all the things I've done, all the people I've hurt, all the lives I've ruined. My old self would be disgusted to see what I'm feeling now, but the Avatar took her from me forever, and I can't find her again. I'm so ashamed of everything I've done since I first left Zaofu. I have so many regrets, too many sins to my name to count. I look back on the past three-and-a-half years, and there's only thing I can think of that doesn't make me shudder, one thing I can remember without feeling sick with anger at myself. The only thing I don't regret is the love I felt for you. It's the only good choice I made, the only thing I'm proud of, the only thing I wouldn't change if I could relive the past. In my worst moments, I still loved you – my inner demons eradicated everything good in my heart except that. I've never been ashamed of loving you, and I never could be. It's the one part of me I know isn't evil. People can call me every kind of villain and tyrant, but never let them say I didn't love you. It's my one and only redeeming quality, and my knowledge of that will be my only comfort in my final moments.

Like I said, I don't expect you to believe me. It might even be too much to hope you'll read this. I just wanted to say it. I know it changes nothing, it can't do any good. If it causes you any pain, I'm sorry. I just had to tell you.

That's all. I'm ready to make the only amends I can for my crimes now. I have nothing left to do but wait. You're the only thing I'll miss.

Good-bye, Baatar.

Love,

Kuvira

Kuvira,

I got your letter yesterday and just read it this morning. I'm glad I did, as it answered a question I've often wondered about since That Day, as you call it. Since you're right that nothing we say or do now can make things better or worse, I see no reason not tell you what it made me think.

Don't worry, I'm not going to rant about how you betrayed me or how devastated I felt That Day. I merely think it just to tell you two things. First, I don't blame you for what I did or for my imprisonment – I did it all knowingly and of my own free will. You didn't force me to do anything; it's no one's responsibility but mine, and I'll take the consequences. I'm only sorry I didn't try to stop you.

Second, I do believe you. I believe you when you say your love for me was sincere. I confess, I have had my doubts. It didn't make sense that you could do that to someone you loved, but it also didn't seem possible that everything between us had been a lie. You have no reason to lie to me now, nothing to gain, so I consider your testimony credible, and I thank you for giving me a definite answer at last.

I can't say everything else you want to hear. I know you too well. I know you want me to say I loved you and still love you, too, that I don't regret what I felt for you, either. I can't. It is true that I can't say that the woman I loved didn't exist. The you I knew was the true you. I was never blinded to what you really were. You never attempted to deceive me; you showed me your true self and convinced me it was good, honorable, and noble instead of evil. But the blind hero worship I felt for you... can that be called love? Whatever it was, I can't be proud of it. I'm ashamed of everything it made me do. Remembering it gives me no comfort; remembering how you repaid it brings nothing but pain. All I feel when I think of you now is shame and sorrow. What I felt for you was real, too, but it was evil and twisted and wrong. I can't even take any pleasure in the fact that the woman you were chose me. What could someone so heartless and wicked have seen in me to admire? What attracted her to me? Surely nothing I can be proud of.

You also want me to say I forgive you for betraying me. That I understand why you did it. You want to know what I really think of you. I know my opinion is the only one that matters to you, that as long as I don't completely hate you, you can die in peace. But I can only tell you the truth, and... well, I do understand why you did it. I know you didn't want to do it. I know you loved me even as you were doing it... but that only makes it worse. If you were willing to kill, not a pawn who actually meant nothing to you, but the man you loved more than anyone, that makes what you did worse, not better. If you were willing to sacrifice what meant everything to you for what meant nothing to you by comparison; if you were willing to pay a price you knew wasn't worth it; if you treat, not the things you care nothing for as expendable, but the things you love... that makes the woman you were a more depraved villain, not less. If you loved me when you aimed that weapon, certain it was going to kill me along with your enemies, that makes your choice more evil, not less. Loving me doesn't mitigate what you did – it makes it even more sickening. Any love you felt for me then is not your one redeeming quality – it's the worst part of the sin. It is true you're not guilty of lying to me or faking a love you didn't feel... but the fact that your love was real only makes you guiltier.

I agree that it would have been selfish of you to save me, that it was your selfless duty to sacrifice what you valued for a purpose you didn't value as highly. All that does is prove there's something to that theory that being selfish doesn't automatically, always make an action wrong and that being selfless doesn't automatically, always make an action right. It's too bad for us that we learned this too late. How much better off the world would be if you hadn't been so selflessly devoted to your cause and I hadn't been so selflessly devoted to you! I can't blame you for what you did That Day; I'm just as guilty as you are... guiltier, even! You sacrificed me for your cause, but I'd already sacrificed my home, my family, and my conscience for you. We really were made for each other. I honestly don't know if that's comforting or painful.

I did love you. Had you not betrayed me, I probably would have loved you still. But you showed me That Day what your love is really worth, and I can't love the woman capable of such evil any more than you can. I can only thank you for opening my eyes.

I have nothing else to say. I am glad I know the full truth now. I hope you are, as well.

Good-bye, Kuvira. May the spirits have mercy on us!

Baatar