"Pull!"

The clay pigeon flew into the air temporarily suspended in time, before abruptly shattering into pieces.

"Excellent shot, Lady Hawkeye."

Riza turned towards the source of the compliment. Milton, the Hawkeye's groundskeeper, was smiling at her.

"Thank you."

"It seems like only yesterday you were begging your father to allow you to take shooting lessons," Milton said fondly. "And now, you're weeks away from your marriage announcement. Where does the time go?"

Riza ignored his statement. "I think that's enough for this morning, Milton. You can put the trap away. I need to go ensure that Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang's rooms are ready for his arrival. My grandfather is supposed to send him over mid-afternoon."

"Yes, ma'am," Milton said. He walked over to Riza and offered his hand. She placed her shotgun in his open palms. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Of course," Riza smiled.

The fall air was crisp, flushing Riza's cheeks with color as she headed back towards the manor. For the first time in three days, Riza felt calm. Shooting was the best stress reliever she knew. When she was at the shooting range, everything else in her world vanished. Nothing brought her more satisfaction or peace than watching her bullet hit target after target.

Internally, she hoped that Bradley would allow her to continue practicing her hobby once married.

Riza opened the back door to the manor and took a moment to appreciate the warmth that swept over her. The days had been growing colder and she was certain the first snowfall of the season was mere weeks away. She continued down the hall and to the left towards the guest quarters. They had not been occupied for an extended period since Mustang's last visit and Riza's father had asked for her to ensure they were properly prepared for his stay.

She found the maids scurrying about, rushing to finish some last minute touches. A fire roared in the bedroom's large fireplace and the bed sheets smelled of starch. No doubt they had been freshly pressed earlier in the morning.

"Good morning, Miss," one of the maids said from across the room. "We will be finished and out of your hair shortly. The linens are new, the room has been dusted and the rug beaten. It should be up to Mr. Mustang's standards, but please let me know if there is anything else you would like us to do to prepare for his arrival."

"Please don't rush on account of me," Riza said, smiling at the women. "My father requested I check on the progress, but I find this room much to my satisfaction."

"Thank you, ma'am," said the second maid as she plumped one of the bed's pillows. "We are sure Mr. Mustang will be content. He has never been a hard one to please."

"It's Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang now," Riza corrected softly. He must have done something impressive to earn the title at twenty-four and it was only proper to respect his merits.

"My apologies, the Lieutenant-Colonel should be most pleased," the maid stated. She finished with her primping and moved to gather the basket of supplies that was sitting on the floor besides her. "We will be leaving now. Please call us if you or the Lieutenant-Colonel should need anything."

The two women left the room, curtseying respectfully before closing the door. Riza wandered through the suite, double checking that everything was as Lieutenant-Mustang preferred, though she had full faith in her staff.

Roy's favorite teapot, deep red with matching cups, sat on the left hand side of the oak desk in the corner of the room. Three small tins sat adjacent to the porcelain teapot filled with his favorite loose leaf teas. Vanilla candles had been placed in the silver holders throughout the room. She opened the closet to find an extra down blanket perfectly folded- Roy had always preferred to sleep bundled up.

Once she was satisfied that no small detail had been forgotten, Riza exited the room, leaving the doors slightly ajar. It had been too long since the suite had been occupied and the fresh circulation of air would do the space some good.

She found her timing perfect. She had barely made her way to the manor's main entrance when the doors opened and her new houseguest walked in with two of Grumman's servants following him and carrying a small collection of luggage.

He looked exhausted. Riza's eyes focused on the dark circles underneath both of his own. Surely they hadn't been there this past weekend. She would have noticed them at the party.

Despite the clear exhaustion on his face, he smiled wide as he made eye contact.

"Good morning, Lady Hawkeye." He gave her a slight bow.

"Please, there's no need for that," she said, shaking her hands in the air. "Not if you plan to stay here all winter, Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang."

"Well, if that's the stance we are taking, please call me Roy- or Mister Mustang if you must," he said quickly before she could open her mouth to protest. "Lieutenant-Colonel is a mouthful."

"Well then allow me to show you to your room, Mister Mustang," Riza said with a small smile. "My father does apologize he was unable to greet you this morning. He is away at meetings until the late afternoon. He requests that you join him in his study after dinner. I'm sure you remember where that is?" She turned to guide him to the guest quarters.

"I remember where the guest suite is, as well, Lady Hawkeye. There's no need to trouble yourself."

Riza looked over her shoulder towards him. "Formalities aside, I insist. I don't believe we've had a proper guest since your apprenticeship ended. We certainly haven't since I finished boarding school. Besides, it's nice to have someone other than the staff or my father to talk too."

They entered Roy's room. The two servants carrying his luggage set them down on the bed before asking if there was anything Roy further required before they returned to Grumman's Estate. Roy thanked them earnestly and insisted he had everything he needed, wishing them well before they left the room.

Riza's eye traveled to the small collection of luggage sitting on the floor by the doorway. "Would you like me to call our maids to help you unpack?"

Roy waved his hand dismissively. "I'm not above putting away my own clothing."

"Well, would you like some help?"

Roy smiled at her offer. "If you'd like." He pointed towards one of the larger pieces of luggage in the group. "That should have all of my uniform and suit jackets in it. Would you mind hanging them in the closet?"

Riza nodded and moved to pick up the luggage. It was heavier than she thought and Roy let out a small laugh at her struggle.

"Want some help?"

"What do you have in here?" She asked, half serious. "Chainmail?"

"Honestly, that might be more comfortable. Whoever thought blue wool was a good choice for a desert war should be tried for a war crime." To Riza's frustration, Roy picked up the suitcase with ease, carrying it across the room and placing it on a chair beside the window and close to the closet.

Riza laughed lightly as she opened up the suitcase. She pulled the top article out and reached for the empty hangers in the closet. It was Roy's dress uniform, freshly pressed. Grumman's staff had undoubtedly cleaned the jacket after the party. Riza held the jacket out for a moment, admiring the rows of buttons, medals and awards that lined the chest and shoulders. She didn't notice Roy's gaze settle on her from across the room.

"Purple Heart?" She pointed to one of the pins.

Roy shrugged. "Explosion. Compared to many of my men, I was lucky. My wound is superficial." Roy watched as Riza's eyes looked up and down his figure, silently searching for signs of his injury. "It's on my waist. Left side. It's a good quarter of my torso but the burn is no longer raw or overly tender."

"Oh."

"I'm fine, honestly." Roy flashed her a dazzling smile. He could feel her concern radiating from her and desperately wished to relieve her of it.

"I knew you were on leave for an injury, but I didn't know how severe."

Roy turned his back from Riza and opened one of the dresser's drawers. He began to pull cotton shirts out of one of the suitcases. "I'm expected to make a full recovery."

That was all he would offer. He didn't need his master's daughter knowing about his mental health.

Luckily, Riza did not ask any further questions. She stopped staring at the uniform, finally hanging it up in the closet before turning her attention to the rest of the bag. The two worked in comfortable silence organizing Roy's belongings until he was unpacked.

"Okay!" Riza announced as she clapped her hands together. "I believe that was the last of it."

"Thank you for the help, Lady Hawkeye."

"Is there anything else you need?"

"No, I should be set. Is dinner still served at 6:00?"

"Same time, same place." She moved to leave when she felt Roy's hand on her arm. She turned to him, confused.

"It may be rude of me to ask, but do you have time to play a game of chess before cleaning up for dinner? I realize I'm not aware of your schedule." Roy smiled meekly. The reality was he enjoyed Riza's company and the memories of the war had been taking root in his mind since their conversation about his injury. A friendly game of chess would distract him enough to prevent any lingering panic attacks from creeping up on him once he was alone. He pulled his chessboard out from the drawer he had placed it in a few minutes prior and headed over to the small sitting area by the fireplace.

"Ladies, first." Riza replied with a smile as she went to join him.

/-/-/

"You should have seen how mortified our headmistress was," Riza giggled. "The letter was quite scandalous and Rebecca had no remorse. Madame Herschell even telegraphed Lord Catalina."

The two were still sitting by the fire, the chess game long finished after Roy had taken advantage of Riza's inexperience. They were sharing a pot of tea as they exchanged stories and catching up with each other.

"And what did he do?" Roy asked.

"Nothing," Riza rolled her eyes. "Rebecca is his sweet, darling, precious baby. Her father will overlook just about everything- including her kissing the banker's son. You should have seen the smug look on her face the next morning at breakfast."

"Sounds like boarding school was a lot more entertaining than I would have guessed."

"There has to be something more to life than practicing your manners and perfecting your penmanship," Riza said. She gave him a sly smile over her teacup. "And what about you? I'm sure you have plenty of stories from the military."

"Not many I'm willing to share with a young lady." Roy refilled his cup and motioned to Riza. She held out her own, allowing him to fill it before she began protesting.

"That's not fair! I told you my stories."

"Yes, but if you think Rebecca being fondled is scandalous I can only imagine how you would react to mine," Roy laughed.

"There isn't any at all you'd share? What kind of company do you keep in the military?"

"The male kind."

Riza smiled at Roy softly. She was enjoying sitting by the fire, exchanging playful banter and stories. Aside from Rebecca's visits, it had been a long time since she had had anyone near her age at the manor. Her staff, while lovely, still maintained a level of professionalism within their conversations. At his best, her father would join her for meals. At his worst, they would go days without exchanging a word.

When Roy had first started his apprenticeship, she had been too young to view him as a friend. As they grew older, their age gap seemed less significant and in the final years of his apprenticeship, she looked forward to his company when she returned home from school for holiday. There was an ease with him that she didn't experience with most men. She appreciated his ability to listen and valued his treatment of her as an equal.

"Oh alright," Roy sighed, giving in. "There was this one time- please never say anything to him if you meet him- but there was this one time where my best friend Hughes and I were at a bar in downtown Central. We were still in the military academy and maybe… oh, I don't know, nineteen? Anyway, this beautiful woman comes onto Hughes and he is so drunk and so eager. He ends up following her home, only for her to demand money as soon as he had his pants around his ankles. She was a working girl and his drunk ass had no idea! He was mortified. Hughes ended up paying her a third of her rate because she wouldn't leave him alone and accused him of wasting her time."

"Why didn't you warn him?" Riza declared, clearly amused. "You grew up in a brothel!"

Roy shrugged. "I thought he knew. He's a grown man and perfectly capable of making his own decisions. At least he's now happily married so it won't happen again."

"If that's a tame story, I can only imagine the others," Riza teased. "I am almost a married woman, Mister Mustang. I'm sure I can handle it- no matter how provocative."

Roy raised an eyebrow at her. "You've grown up, Lady Hawkeye."

"That tends to happen when you don't visit for years."

"I've been busy fighting a war."

"And I've been busy fighting off suitors. I'm not sure which is more terrifying," Riza's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Have there been many?" Roy asked casually.

"Yes and no. Supposedly, many have inquired, but Lord Bradley is the only one my father has taken a serious interest in," she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Riza stood up from her chair and gathered the empty teapot and cups on the serving tray and walked them over to a small side table to be collected by the maids. Instead of sitting back in her seat, she sat down on the floor, back up against her chair. She pulled her legs to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. "And so, Lord Bradley it shall be."

Her melancholy pained Roy. He moved to join her on the floor, offering his hand for comfort. She intertwined her fingers with his and he gave her hand a brief squeeze.

"I'm sure you will be well taken care of," Roy said softly. "Your entire family will be."

"How do you know?" Her words were so quiet if Roy hadn't been listening, he may not have heard them over the crackle of the fire. "His last wife couldn't bear children. What if that happens to me? What if I fail him? Is he going to divorce me too?"

"That won't happen."

"You can't promise that." She looked at Roy before averting her gaze. "I've never been with a man, let alone tried to bear him children. What if something goes wrong? My mother died in childbirth and my brother was a stillborn."

"You've never been with a man?" The words escaped Roy's mouth before he could stop them.

Riza let go of his hand and pulled away from him, her posture growing rigid. She tilted her head towards him, eyes wide with disbelief. "That's what you took from this conversation?"

Roy could feel his cheeks turning red. He shifted uncomfortably. "It just… surprised me. That's all."

"Well, excuse me, Mister Mustang, but I believe that's none of your business." He could not tell if Riza's expression was angry or amused. "Besides, what am I supposed to do? Hide my lover under my skirt and sneak him up the stairs? Open my window so he can crawl up the balcony late at night when my father's asleep?" She snorted.

"I see your point."

Riza stood up and looked down at Roy still on the floor, a small smile on her face. She enjoyed seeing him squirm with embarrassment. "Now if you excuse me, Mister Mustang, I just looked at the time. It's getting late. I must head back upstairs to wash up for dinner." She headed toward the door to his suite, pulling one open before stopping and turning back to look at Roy, who was still sitting dumbfounded on the floor by the fire. "No hard feelings, I hope?" She winked at him.

He relaxed, genuinely relieved that she wasn't truly angry at him for invading her privacy. "I should be asking you that, really. I'll see you at dinner Lady Hawkeye."

/-/-/

Roy entered the dining room to find that he was the first to arrive. The Hawkeye formal dining parlor was small, reflecting the family's tendency to avoid hosting large gatherings. Keep the people out of our personal affairs, Berthold had explained when Roy had inquired about their lack of entertaining when he had first arrived. Part of Roy believed him. Berthold was a notoriously private man who kept his business partners close, his enemies closer and the wall around his heart impenetrable. Another part of Roy thought that, perhaps, Berthold never hosted lavish events because he was rather unliked in the community and knew most people would decline an invitation.

The dining room table could sit six but was set for four. Maybe Berthold was bringing a business partner, Roy thought. Or, worse, Grumman was making an appearance to continue celebrating Riza's successful introduction to Lord Bradley.

His question was answered when the door to the dining room opened and Riza walked in, Rebecca at her side.

"Mr. Mustang," Riza smiled, any awkwardness between them confidently gone. "You remember my best friend, Rebecca Catalina?"

"Yes, I believe I do," he flashed Rebecca a charismatic grin. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Lady Catalina."

Catalina offered Roy her hand, but rolled her eyes at his greeting.

Roy took a seat in his old spot to the right of Master Hawkeye. Across the table, Riza and Rebecca sat down quietly giggling to each other about a joke Roy had not caught.

"You're shorter than I remember," Rebecca said, looking Roy straight in the eye.

"Rebecca!" Riza exclaimed. "He's our guest!"

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "He's your father's guest, Riza."

"It's-"

Before Roy was able to finish his rebuttal, the door opened once again. Berthold stomped in, making no effort to hide his bad mood. He didn't bother to greet Riza, but paused when his gaze found Roy's. Instantly, his mood shifted.

"Mustang!" Berthold said almost joyfully. "I almost forgot you were joining us today." He motioned to the servant in the corner of the room to begin serving their food.

"Thank you again for the hospitality," Roy said earnestly. "I am looking forward to working under you again, even if it's only a few months."

"I take it my daughter had your rooms prepared to your satisfaction?" Berthold asked, speaking as though Riza wasn't in the room, let alone in the seat to his direct left.

Roy observed as Rebecca and Riza lowered their gazes and began to quietly eat the chicken that had been placed in front of them moments before. They moved with a silent agreement to attract as little attention as possible, a well-practiced dance.

"My room is perfect, thank you," Roy said as he took the cue from Riza's body language to not pull her into the conversation. "I hope your meetings went well today."

"As well as can be expected," Berthold answered as he cut into his meal. "Winter business is beginning to pick up. I'm going to need you in the office by eight tomorrow morning. We are traveling into town to meet a client. I have a feeling she will take a liking to you before she takes a liking to me, so bring the charm."

Roy did not want to think about the implications of that statement. Across the table, Rebecca and Riza both smiled subtly into their laps.

The rest of the meal continued in a similar fashion. Berthold engaged Roy in various topics of conversation, eager to hear anything his former apprentice had to say. Not once during the meal did Berthold direct his attention to his daughter. Internally, Roy frowned. Despite years passing since his last family dinner at the Hawkeye Estate, little had changed. Berthold still preferred Roy's company and Riza had only further perfected the art of staying seen but unnoticed.

After a decadent dessert of strawberries and crème, Berthold announced he was retiring for the night. He wished Roy a goodnight before turning to Riza for the first time that evening.

"Goodnight, my future Mrs. Bradley."

Berthold's back was turned before he could notice the look of disgust that consumed Riza's eyes.