Weeks turned into months without any response, and Nasuada cursed herself for letting her guard down in the first place. It only led to disappointment, how had she not internalized it yet? Particularly with a man in Murtagh's position; he had difficulty enough maintaining a relationship with Eragon and Arya, let alone the additional complications he faced with Nasuada.

And just as she had resigned herself to the end of their friendship once again, a letter arrived.

Nasuada -

I apologize for the delay; Thorn and I spent more time with Eragon and were traveling for far longer than expected.

Traveling - traveling to Eragon? Or for him?

I too have a mirror on my person, although I'm not vain enough to gaze at my reflection day in and day out. But perhaps the full moon may inspire me to admire my devilishly handsome good looks once more.

I am glad to hear that you found the Games to be a success. New traditions may be difficult to establish, but you are nothing if not dedicated to the hard work it may entail.

Nasuada scanned the letter once more, and smiled.

Meeting at the full moon, indeed.

"Nasuada?" came a whisper from her mirror, and she hurried over.

"Murtagh," she greeted him with a grin, and received one in response. "I am glad to see you again."

"As am I," he replied, and then Nasuada noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the faint lines etched into his skin.

"Are you well?"

"Never better."

"You seem... less energetic than when I saw you last."

"That seems code for 'tired,' which courtesy demands as a synonym for 'hideous,' if I'm not mistaken."

"You certainly are," said Nasuada with a scoff, but did not pursue it further. "Where are you now?"

"Oh, here and there," he said dismissively, and it was made clear that yes, he was working on something for Eragon.

"If this is something that concerns me -" began Nasuada, but Murtagh cut her off.

"I promise you it is not. Please, do not waste another moment worrying."

"My days are spent worrying, don't you know? Part and parcel of ruling a queendom."

"How very foolish of me."

"Indeed."

And so they talked late into the night, and by the time they said farewell, Nasuada felt just a bit more at ease.

They spoke again a few weeks later, to Nasuada's delight.

"You know," Murtagh said conversationally, "I'm not far from you at all."

"Oh?"

"Perhaps a half-day's flight from Ilirea," he said evasively, and Nasuada caught a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

But she smiled. "Only a few hours?"

"Aye."

"Well, that seems to be fortuitous."

"How so?"

"I have been granted a reprieve from my duties night after next."

Murtagh blinked, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Oh?"

"Yes."

"I -" and he broke off, dropping his gaze. "Is that - after the Games, it seemed -"

"You dare to disobey the queen?" Nasuada stated in the most regal tone she could summon, and Murtagh met her gaze once more.

"I don't recall you issuing an order."

"Well, what good is being a Rider if not for using your finely-tuned senses?"

Humor returned to his face, and he smirked. "My apologies, Your Majesty. Your wish is my command."

"As it should be."

They shared a smile, and then Murtagh tentatively asked, "So it is decided? Night after next?"

"It is."

"I shall let you know when I have arrived."

"Good."

And so, night after next, Nasuada quickly bid Farica goodnight and eagerly awaited Murtagh's arrival.

Not a moment too soon did his face appear in her mirror. "May I remove the wards?"

"Yes, yes -" Nasuada began, and almost immediately there was a small sound outside her window.

He gracefully leapt inside, and as he busied himself with restoring the wards, she marveled at how easily she was able to blink away the image of her cell at Urû'baen.

He turned to face her, and a broad smile crossed his face. "My Queen."

"I thought the Riders were sovereign citizens, no?"

"Ah, but as my fellow Riders are hesitant to accept Thorn and I, I can hardly count myself among them. And so I should be allowed the freedom to choose my ruler to whom I pledge my allegiance, no?"

His face betrayed his sorrow, ever so slightly, and Nasuada flashed him a sad smile. "I would accept you as my citizen in a heartbeat."

"The honor would be mine."

They fell silent, and she summoned her courage. "I was concerned that my - our interaction after the Games would tarnish your desire to continue our friendship."

"Never," he said quietly. "Though I shared the same concern."

"Never."

They shared a small smile, and Murtagh asked. "So, how busy was your schedule today?"

"No busier than usual. Meetings with earls who believe they deserve more than I've granted, decisions with the Council on tax rates and soldier enlistment, discussions on rebel uprisings. Luckily there have been fewer and fewer as time passes."

"Good." A shadow of uncertainty crossed his face, and he said, "I've heard tell of your ambitions to restrict the use of magic."

"Yes."

"May I speak plainly?"

"Always, Murtagh, you know that."

"No, I don't. Ever since - well, I'm still uncertain of where I stand with you."

"It isn't -"

"Anyway," he interrupted, "I think it's a bad idea."

Nasuada scoffed. "Of course you would."

"And why is that?"

"Because you can use magic."

"And so my opinion holds no weight?"

"Certainly less weight than those who cannot."

"Yet I have been a victim of the most heinous magic there is," he snapped. "More so than most."

A wave of guilt washed over her, and she said, "I didn't mean -"

"I know."

A moment passed, and she asked, "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Explain your position."

"I thought it would have been obvious."

"Clearly it is not," Nasuada bit out. "So continue."

He lifted an eyebrow. "All I'll say is that we have already seen the dangers of a ruler attempting to control magic."

"That is hardly the same thing."

"Isn't it? Du Vrangr Gata is tasked with monitoring magicians, no? What happens to those who do not adhere to your commands?"

"I have had this exact conversation -"

"Not with me. Not with someone who deeply understands the consequences of those who do not follow the rules."

"So have I, if you recall," she said icily, but her words did not deter him.

"And yet you were not forced to wield magic at the behest of a king intent on building a magical army."

Nasuada clenched her fists, and in a low, furious voice, she said, "How dare you. How dare you compare me to that evil man. Never in a hundred years would I -"

"I'm not saying you would. I'm saying that perhaps the uprisings that you are so desperate to quash are the result of your citizens seeing nothing but another tyrant sitting on the throne."

"Tyrant? Tyrant?" Rage began to build within her, and with every word her voice grew louder. "You have seen me, beaten and bloodied and tortured by a tyrant! Have you forgotten the horrors that a tyrant inflicted upon Alagaësia? Upon me?"

"I have not." The words could have cut her with their sharpness, but in her fury she brushed them off.

"Then you remember what the servant of a tyrant has done to me as well."

An ugly look crossed his face, and in a low, hard voice, he said, "So your 'inklings of forgiveness' were nothing more than placation, is that so?"

"Are you accusing me of lying?"

"If the crown fits."

"Get out."

"And there it is."

"Get out. GET OUT!" she shouted, and he turned to the window.

"Gladly, Your Highness."

Just as he jumped from the window, two Nighthawks burst into her room, weapons raised.

"My Queen!"

"Out," she snapped, and they frowned.

"What -"

"It was nothing more than a nightmare. Out."

An uncertain look crossed one of their faces. "Begging your pardon, Queen, but we would need to verify that there was not an intrusion upon your mind -"

She exhaled in frustration, and rubbed at her eyes. This was, after all, the reason she had recruited magicians for her protection. "Make it quick. I'd like to go back to bed."

She quickly steeled her thoughts against memories of Murtagh and privileged conversations with advisors, and felt the mental brush of the magician.

He performed a brief search, and withdrew. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I appreciate -"

"Have you detected a threat?"

"No."

"Then get out, and allow me to sleep."

"Yes, Your Majesty," and he dipped his head before leaving with the other Nighthawk.

As soon as they shut the door, she buried her face in her hands, and tried to slow the roil of furor still coursing through her body.

Murtagh.

In that moment, she didn't care if she never saw him again.