A/N: After my last author's note, I promise I won't ramble so much, since not all the reviewers for this story are quite used to my rambles, yet. I just have to come out and say that this chapter is not the end, nor the next one. I still have a ways to go, and you will certainly know when I'm finished. Expect at least five more letters, because if you've read any of my other stories, you know that I suck at finishing anything

Yours Truly:

Dear Larsa,

Even though you are in the next room, it is true of me, as well as you, that I write to you when I have something on my mind. This time, though, it feels as though I have something on my heart.

I cannot find the words to say exactly what your return meant to me. I just hope with all my heart that you understand the impact you made when you knocked on the door of my hotel room, and handed me your letter, with nothing but a smile. It was almost as if it were a dream, something I imagined in my head as I fell asleep. But it wasn't, and it was real. Even though you are an Emperor in Archadia, the mightiest of empires, you came for me.

I think that after reading your letter, that I am willing to forgive Vaan. He has always been an adventurous spirit, and he needs to find someone like him, not someone like me. I take pleasure in routine, daily life, and I think Vaan finds that quality of mine hard to respect. I am not as restless as he is, and I never will be. He's got his head in the clouds, but my feet are planted firmly on the ground. In truth, I haven't changed at all. And that's partly what scares me.

But you! You have changed, Larsa. A year ago, I traveled with a twelve-year-old boy, the youngest of House Solidor, naïve but peace-loving. Still, I wasn't sure if I really knew you, or even if you knew yourself. But now, you walked in this room a different person, but still somehow the Larsa I knew. You walked with confidence, a purpose, like you finally knew who you really were. And when you smiled, I finally got to see the smile I had imagined as I read your letters, as I closed my eyes and wished to see you again. And now, I have.

You once told me that you didn't think of yourself as a 'knight in shining armor' or my 'rescuer', but you are wrong. Dead wrong. Because you have proven yourself to me not once, but twice, that you came for me, when I least expected you to come. I hate to be the damsel in distress once more, but you showed me once again that you promised to protect me, and you meant it.

And in a move to mark your newfound confidence, you got down on your knees once again, took my hand and promised again that you would always protect me, and if I ever needed you, for anything, that you would only be in the next room. And since then, I have been comforted like I never have been before, with a sense of peace, because I knew that you will be here to protect me. But I never imagined that such a wonderful reunion would feel so—bittersweet. Maybe because I didn't see you, maybe because you were so far away, maybe I believed somewhere deep inside that you were—so—attainable. But seeing you, dressed like the Emperor you are—with such confidence, it shook me a little. You are a great ruler, whether you know it or not, and anyone can tell, just by seeing you. It is truly wonderful and slightly overwhelming, seeing you again, but I almost feel—undeserving. It was easier, a year ago, to accept the fact that you were royalty, the Forth Son of Archadia, amidst all the conflict around us. It was just one more fact to comprehend, a bit of information to store away in my mind. But when you walked through the door, I began to finally began to realize exactly who I had befriended. It was easier, when you and I were corresponding, to almost trick myself into believing that I was just writing to an old and faraway friend, and not the Emperor of Archadia. And I, well, I'm just a Dalmascan peasant living in an apartment under the capital city.

I sincerely hope that you don't misunderstand me, if I even decide to give this letter to you, after all. I don't think of you as any less or more of a person than I ever did and I never will, because I promised, but I am desperately afraid that our social differences will hurt our friendship. I promise you, Larsa Ferrinas Solidor, that although I am nothing more than a poor, lowly Dalmascan peasant, I want nothing more in this world than to be your best friend.

Yours truly,

Penelo