It took every bit of her inner strength for Riza to get dressed for breakfast. In one conversation, Roy had grabbed her heart- beating wildly and flushed with longing- and ripped it right out of her chest, stomping on it for good measure.

How dare he throw her onto the bed and kiss her so passionately she almost stopped breathing to back away repulsed at her very existence the very next moment?

Riza was humiliated. She felt stupid for entertaining even the slightest crush.

She took her time getting ready, flushing her face with cold water in a feeble attempt to wake up her skin and hide the dark circles under her eyes that exposed her lack of sleep. She had spent the night tossing and turning, debating if she was the foolish one, or if it was Roy. She decided it was Roy.

To her surprise, Riza entered the dining room to find her father already sitting down in his usual chair.

"Good morning, father," she greeted politely before sitting down in her own seat.

"Good morning, my dear," he said. "I received a very interesting letter in the mail last night."

Before Riza could reply, the dining room door opened and Roy walked in. He looked just as Riza felt- exhausted, frustrated and uncertain if he should have joined the family for breakfast at all.

"Ah, good morning Roy!" Berthold said to his apprentice. "You're just in time. I was about to inform Riza of some excellent news I received yesterday."

"Master." Roy nodded a polite greeting and sat down next to Berthold, avoiding Riza's gaze at all costs.

"As I was saying," Berthold said as he turned his attention back to Riza. "I received a letter from Lord Bradley yesterday. He finished his business in the South earlier than expected and is planning to be in East City by this time next week. He's officially asked for your hand in marriage and I have already telegramed my acceptance. I'm to meet with your grandfather later this afternoon so we can begin to plan a small party to announce your engagement properly. Isn't that exciting?"

"Yes, very much so father," Riza said, forcing a smile on her face. "Lord Bradley will make a fine husband."

"That he will," Berthold nodded. "I've already asked for Pamela to fetch some dressmakers from town. I may have to pay a significant fee for the rush order, but it's only appropriate you have a new dress for the occasion. Once fit for Lord Bradley's future wife."

"Thank you father."

"Congratulations, Lady Hawkeye." While Berthold was not attentive enough to hear the bitterness in his former apprentice's voice, Roy's disapproval struck Riza as though he had slapped her across the face. "I wish you the best in your future marriage."

"Isn't it wonderful, Roy?" Berthold asked, his own excitement making him oblivious to the obvious tension between his daughter and his former apprentice.

"Absolutely, sir."

"Your mother would be so proud, Riza. So proud indeed."

Riza doubted her father's statement. Riza's mother had eloped to escape marrying Bradley and she could not help but think that her mother would wish for a different fate for her only daughter. Riza's gaze focused on her untouched oatmeal. She would need an iron will to survive this meal, let alone this week. Luckily, Riza Hawkeye was made of steel.

/-/-/

Riza fled from the dining room at the first available moment and immediately headed outside to the shooting range to blow off some steam. Not bothering to find Milton to set up the clay trap, Riza grabbed her rifle and began to fire round after round at the stationary target across the range.

She wasn't ready to be Bradley's wife. Not after last night.

But Riza was a woman of duty and she knew her place was to accept her father's chosen suitor without question. She bit her lip in frustration and fired another round, gaining no satisfaction as it pierced the center of her target.

"Lady Hawkeye." The voice interrupted Riza's focus and she turned to face the last person she wanted to see.

"What?" She did not try to mask the anger in her voice as she resumed her task, sending another bullet flying through the air with perfect aim.

"Your father asked that I find you. The seamstress is here." Roy said, his eyes on the ground.

"Okay, thank you. You can leave now," Riza said curtly.

"Would you like assistance packing up?"

"No." To her dismay, Roy did not turn to leave. She gave him a moment, but it was apparent he had no intention to move. "I said leave. Why are you still here?" she lashed out.

"I just-"

"You just what Mister Mustang? What do you possibly have to say after making a complete and utter fool of my feelings last night?"

Roy sucked in his breath, contemplating on what to say next. "You'll be a beautiful bride, Miss Hawkeye. Lord Bradley is very lucky."

Riza kept her back turned to him, giving no sign that she had heard his words, let alone processed them. She remained still until she was certain that the sound of Roy's footsteps were far enough away before emptying the last of her barrel and throwing her gun to the ground in frustration.

/-/-/

"Oh my goodness, you look stunning Riza!" Rebecca said from her chair.

It was four days after Berthold announced over breakfast that he had formally accepted Bradlye's marriage proposal on Riza's behalf. She had only seen Roy at dinner and he had been nothing but polite. Her father's presence at each meal ensured their conversation remained civil, but she wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

She was currently standing in her dressing room as Libby, the town's seamstress, pricked and prodded at her half-constructed evening gown.

"Don't you think it's a bit… much?"

"Oh no, it's lovely," Rebecca said honestly. "It's fancier than anything I would imagine you would pick out, but for a woman announcing her engagement… it's stunning. You're stunning."

Riza frowned and looked at herself in the closet's large, floor-length mirror and barely recognized the woman looking back at her. The dress, a deep emerald green with more embellishments than Riza would have selected herself, complimented her slim figure and blonde hair. It was lovely, but it wasn't Riza.

"Lady Hawkeye, can you please raise your arms for a moment? I need to finish pinning this seam," Libby said through a mouth full of pins.

"Yes, of course," Riza said. She raised her arms and turned her attention to Rebecca. "My father has been in the best mood this week. It's insufferable."

Rebecca smiled softly. "You should have seen my father after Greda and Bridgett were married off. He was thrilled."

"Why couldn't you or Lucy be the next to get married?"

"Oh don't say that," Rebecca said. "I'm not ready to be someone's wife."

"And I am?"

"Like you have a choice." Rebecca shrugged, always the one for tough love. "Although if my older sister's hadn't taken one for the team, I suppose I would be in your position as well."

"There you are, Lady Hawkeye," Libby said, interrupting their conversation. "We can remove the dress now. Everything has been pinned."

Rebecca stood up and walked over to assist Libby and Riza in removing the half-finished dress, careful to not disrupt any of the delicately placed pins along the sides.

"Thank you, Lady Hawkeye, Catalina," Libby said with a small bow as she gathered her things. "I will be back at the same time tomorrow. Hopefully that will be the last fitting. We have two days to finish the dress."

"Considering the time constraint, you've done remarkable," Riza said, offering the seamstress an understanding smile. "Do you need assistance carrying your things outside?"

"No ma'am, Lord Hawkeye has arranged for carriage to take me back into town."

"Wonderful, I just wanted to make sure. Thank you again Libby. See you tomorrow," Riza said as Libby finished packing and headed out the door. Standing in her underthings, she turned to Rebecca. "Fasten me up, will you?" She slipped her day dress over her head and Rebecca began to work on the row of buttons.

"So how is Mustang taking this?"

"What do you mean?" Riza's voice was stoic, giving away nothing.

"Ugh," Rebecca rolled her eyes. "We've been over it. It's obvious you two like each other. You can't tell me he isn't at least a little bit sad?"

"I don't know. I haven't spoken to him since my father broke the news." It was the truth.

"Why what happened?" Rebecca asked as she finished buttoning the last button. She patted Riza on the shoulder to signal she was finished.

Riza turned to her best friend, eyes narrow. "What is this, some kind of interrogation?"

"No, but it is now because clearly you're hiding something," Rebecca snapped. Riza groaned internally as she realized she had taken the bait. "What aren't you telling me?"

"There's nothing, Rebecca," Riza said sternly.

"Riza, it's not healthy to bottle everything inside. That's what girlfriends are for." Rebecca crossed Riza's room and sat down on the edge of the bed- right where, four days earlier, Roy had pinned her to the mattress and kissed her senseless. She patted the bed innocently, inviting her Riza to join her.

Riza sat next to Rebecca and sighed, giving in. Maybe telling Rebecca would help calm the restlessness plaguing her.

"Well-" Riza started. "The day we went into town to visit his friends, we got into an argument on if it was appropriate for us to stay friends… considering… and then he kissed me before storming away." This answer was vague enough for Riza's comfort. Rebecca did not need to know how Roy had snuck into her bedroom, let alone how close they had come to doing much more than kissing.

"He kissed you?"

Riza couldn't tell if Rebecca's voice was filled with shock, surprise or sympathy. She simply nodded.

"So where does that leave you?"

"Nowhere. It leaves us nowhere. Mr. Mustang is correct. He is an unmarried military man and I am an engaged lady of status. There is no place for us to be friends." She sighed. "He was right, but I'm afraid I lost my temper and called him a few unseemly names."

"I'm sure he deserved any name you called him," Rebecca said defensively. "I'm sorry, Riza. Your little crush aside, true friendships are hard to find."

"It probably is for the best," Riza said as she stared at her hands in her lap. "After that kiss… I don't think I'd want to go back to being friends. Ignoring each other is the best option. It's only for the winter."

Rebecca offered her a friend a sympathetic smile. Yes. It was only for the winter.

/-/-/

Berthold Hawkeye is determined to make his new hobby dropping anxiety-inducing news over breakfast, Riza decided the next morning after her father strutted into the dining room proudly announcing that they were all- yes, all, Mister Mustang included- joining Lord Bradley at his eastern estate for dinner that evening. Riza faked delight before finding she can't even begin to look in Mister Mustang's direction.

Like it matters, she reasoned. She could barely look at him before, but the prospect of having to share dinner with both her suitor and the man sitting in front of her- the man who made her blood both boil and swoon- drove terror through her heart.

Maybe Riza isn't made of steel like she thought. Right now, she feels as brittle as bone and likely to collapse.

"He wants to get to know you better."

Her father's words ripped Riza from her thoughts and she turned to look at him incredulously. "Pardon?"

"Lord Bradley. He wants to get to know you better. Honestly, girl, were you listening to a thing I said?"

Riza ignored his question. "He has our entire marriage to get to know me."

"Indeed," Berthold said as he shoved his breakfast into his mouth. "But I still expect you to be on your best behavior tonight, young lady. And wear your nicest dinner party clothes. You dress far too casually around the house. That goes for you as well, Mustang."

"Yes, Master Hawkeye," Roy said.

Riza looked over at Roy to find him buttering his toast, eyes focused on his task as though it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Mustang," Berthold said as he pulled out a bundle of envelopes from his waistcoat pocket. "I need you to go into town and deliver these for me. It's not as overwhelming as it looks- most of the recipients work in the financial district, many in the same office. We are leaving for Bradley's at half past five, so please make sure you're back in ample time to fresh up."

Roy nodded as he took the letters.

"Will Grandfather be joining us tonight?" Riza asked.

Berthold shrugged. "I haven't been told yes or no but I would imagine."

"It should be a wonderful time, nonetheless," Roy said from his seat. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must prepare for the day."

/-/-/

Roy found that Master Hawkeye had been correct. Despite the intimidating size of the pile of letters, Roy had them all delivered within two hours, providing him with enough time to both grab lunch and stop by Eastern Command to see how his office was doing.

He was immediately taken aback by the pomp and circumstance occurring just behind the fortified wall. By the looks of it, every soldier in Eastern Command was in the courtyard but no longer standing at attention, suggesting that whatever event they had gathered for recently ended. Roy furrowed his brow, desperately trying to remember if Hughes or Grumman had informed him of this mysterious occasion and he had simply forgotten.

The soldiers were beginning to disperse now, allowing Roy to freely look for familiar faces across the sea of bodies. Luckily for him, Havoc, with his blonde hair and above average height, was easily identifiable in the crowd, standing next to Breda and Vato Falman, another of Roy's immediate subordinates.

"Havoc!"

The group of men turned to the sound of Roy's voice and he headed towards them. The three saluted him as he approached.

"At ease," Roy said. "I'm not on duty."

"Hi, Lieutenant-Colonel, it's nice to see you. I didn't know you were stopping by the office today," Falman said politely.

"I wasn't. Lord Hawkeye sent me into town for an errand that took less time than anticipated so I thought I'd swing by. What did I miss? It seems like every soldier in Eastern command is out here."

"That's because they are," Breda answered. "General Raven stopped by with Lord King Bradley and told General Grumman that he expected a grand welcoming that would make the Fuhrer envious."

"General Raven? He's not supposed to be here until tomorrow. I was supposed to be there to meet him. It's on my itinerary."

"Word is King Bradley decided to come a day earlier so General Raven did as well." Havoc rolled his eyes. "Bradley's not even in the military. I don't understand why we always make such a big deal when he visits. He's a contractor. We pay him for our weapons, but the generals will do just about anything to kiss his ass."

Roy frowned. "Maybe General Raven will be at dinner tonight." He muttered, half to himself.

"Dinner?"

"Lord Bradley invited the Hawkeye household to dinner this evening, myself included," he rolled his eyes. "It should be an excellent opportunity to build rapport with the generals and Bradley so I should be grateful, but it's going to be nothing but a bunch of stuffy men stroking their own egos."

"And celebrating Bradley's engagement?" Breda asked knowingly.

"Well, yes that too. There is a party on Saturday just for that- part of why Bradley is in towns. Speaking of which, as my second in command, you will be attending Havoc. Master Hawkeye has insisted I bring a few guests and Hughes has already accepted."

"No can do boss. I have a date on Saturday with this girl I met at the flower shop on Mortan Avenue-"

"Cancel it. You're attending. That's an order."

Breda and Falman doubled over with laughter as Havoc's face fell. "But-"

"I assure you Havoc, attending Bradley's engagement party will be seen as a priority to anyone ranked higher than me. Escalate if you like, but you know as well as I do that you will be attending. Wear your dress blues."

Havoc grumbled but did not protest his commanding officer. "I guess I'll be there."

Roy spent the rest of the afternoon racing around Eastern Command. He briefly stopped to visit General Grumman, who both confirmed he would see Roy that evening and assured he was excused for his absence at the morning's grand welcome for General Raven.

"I don't expect you to read the General's mind and anticipate when he breaks the itinerary," Grumman said reasonably.

Roy could feel waves of relief radiating off of him. He thanked Grumman profusely before heading out to search for Hughes, who was in his office diligently looking at files.

"Hey."

"Close the door," Hughes said without looking up at Roy. He finished filling out whatever paperwork had his attention before he sat up, pushing his glasses up in the center with his pointer finger. "So, did you look into what I asked?"

Roy nodded and reached into his breast pocket, pulling out three pieces of paper meticulously folded into thirds. "They are exact copies, so feel free to keep them."

The room was silent as Maes took his time examining the paper's contents. "This is helpful. Were these hard to get?"

"Eh," Roy shrugged. "Not if you know who to ask."

"Or who to flirt with." Hughes rolled his eyes. "I never know with you. Still, I owe you."

"No you don't and you know it."

"I'm almost done here. If you don't mind waiting, you are welcome to join Gracia and I for dinner. She's making a roast."

"As tempting as that sounds, I genuinely can't," Roy grimaced. "I have to join Master Hawkeye for dinner at the Bradley Estate."

"Bradley. Interesting. Is Miss Riza attending as well?"

Roy simply nodded.

"The plot thickens," Hughes said. He stood up from his desk chair and walked around to sit at the edge of his desk, facing Roy. "Why do I get the feeling that there's something you're not telling me?"

"You always have that feeling with me."

"Not true," Hughes said as he crossed his arms, practically pouting. "But your answer only confirms my suspicions. Care to share with the class?"

"No."

"Roy, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Regardless, my entire job is to find out what people are hiding and you know as well as I do that you can't keep things from me for long."

Internally, Roy cursed Hughes. His best friend was right. Hughes had the uncanny ability to read Roy's smallest tells and expose his most private thoughts. In Ishval, Hughes had been the first one to identify the cracks in Roy's carefully constructed exterior. Without his keen observation, the chances that Roy's demons- ruthless, powerful and covered in the blood of countless innocents- would have consumed him and left him for dead in the desert. It was Hughes' intervention that had resulted in his extended leave and newfound focus on improving his mental health.

"I'm just an idiot. I kissed her later that night, once we got home from your place."

"Oh wow, that's rich," Hughes' face broke into a genuine smile as he let out a belly laugh. "I don't know why you even tried to convince us there was nothing there."

"Can we focus on reality and not the crazy world that roams your mind?" Roy said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I've mortified her to the point where she can no longer look in my general direction and tonight I have to join both her and her future husband for dinner."

"Quit while you're ahead and move on. There's plenty of women who would love nothing more than to bed the Hero of Ishval." Hughes stood up and turned his attention back to his desk where he began to gather documents, including the ones brought by Roy, into a briefcase. "Love struck doesn't look good on you. When I said to get a wife, I didn't mean someone else's."

"Yeah, yeah," Roy said, desperate to change the subject. "Just look over those papers in detail and let me know if you need any more information."

"I will!" Hughes' briefcase closed with a satisfying 'click', signaling the end to his work day. "Now go enjoy your dinner. Or at least try too."