Here's chapter 2, beta-read by Kokodoru!

Many thanks to all those who have reviewed so far. :D

As expected, the wedding took absolutely forever. A normal ceremony for an Emperor or King took forever by default, but since it had to respect the norms of both of their cultures, many things had to be jammed together, combined, reorganized. Their religious leaders had coordinated it wonderfully, planning it down to the last detail, from their wear to the time their bond would be officially declared, but it took quite literally all day.

At the end of the day, Luka sat at the head of a huge, long table, Miku at her side. All she wanted was to collapse and sleep. She had arrived at the Hatsune royal palace, where the ceremony took place, the previous evening. Most of the night was spent trying on the clothes that had been designed for the event; a hybrid of their cultures with all the important cloths and banners and medals and what have you. It needed to be made to fit, it needed to weigh a ton, it needed to impress and it needed to follow every rule. Luka had just gotten used to walking around in the Emperor's regular clothes; this was an absolute nightmare in comparison. But she held her head high throughout the whole day, consciously making the effort not to buckle as the new crown was placed on her head. It was a ceremonial one, made of gold and laden with jewels, that was three times the weight of the one she was familiar with. Fortunately, she was told that her new day-to-day crown as Princess Escort would be the lightest of them all; barely more than a tiara, solid and elegant.

Even sitting, all her weight leaning against the rigid back of the seat, she couldn't wait to get the ceremonial crown off of her head and far, far away. She had to sit still and sit pretty though; the dinner was part of the ceremony, and there was no escaping it.

She gulped and let her eyes take in the various guests. Her whole entourage was there, all the people she had grown to trust in the past two months. She had gotten to know their names, their pasts, their roles over the past weeks. She had learned so much, really. After the meeting, there had been so much to do. Telling her people what was going to happen was just the first step. After the day-long party celebrating the end of the war, people got angry, understandably. It would be the end of their Empire, after all. She did interview after interview, speech after speech, explained things time and time again, and in between she coordinated repairs, sent teams, wrote letters, listened to concerns, traveled to sites, funded a variety of efforts, greenlit projects, and so on. Schools could resume and a new curriculum was added; Hatsune Kingdom culture, or something, to help with the integration with the other nation. She understood that Miku had done the same in her land.

They had corresponded frequently since their meeting. Luka announced the departure of her team, attached a log of resources accompanying them, Miku replied that they had arrived safely and had been put to work. Luka would send further resources, Miku to send back progress logs. There were incidents. People were punished. Things were made right. Progress was made.

Once telephones were back and the internet was more reliable, they could converse more instantaneously. When they got word that the ceremony guidelines had been finalized, they talked about it at length over the phone. They talked about other things as well, like how they could best reassure their people about the other ruler's principles, how the future would be. Luka would continue to control her part of the lands, for example, even if she was going to be Miku's second.

There was always so much to do.

Other people sat at the table, of course. Miku's team, and many of the higher-ranking officials of all kinds. Businessmen, some local celebrities. And all were wearing the same color as the hall, even the whole palace: drab greys and dark reds. Over the last two months, Luka had studied more of their iconography and insignia, and could better identify who was who despite their matching clothes. She knew more about the country's history and how things had evolved to how it was that day. It allowed her to recognize some of the large statues that decorated the room, the religious decorations, and paintings. Some of her local objects, necessary for the ceremony, had been brought in, but mostly for the endless talking bit.

Luka sighed; she couldn't wait to forget about that part. The entire speech had been redesigned around the peculiar nature of their union. Two women? It was unheard of for both of their nations, and the main point of grievance when their plan had been announced. But the...priest? Luka couldn't quite sort out all their titles. She wasn't even sure if he was part of Miku's denomination or her own. But he made a point of stressing how much they were sacrificing for the continued peace of their lands, how they had accepted the weight of sin to make sure that everybody else would not have to carry the continued weight of death and despair. They were sacrificing their roles as proper wives to good husbands, their ability to create life as God had intended, and so on, and so on. It basically said that they were paying a hefty price to make sure everybody could live worry-free, and while Luka agreed with that basic concept, she didn't agree with much else.

It wasn't really sin, per se; sure, they had entered a specific contract that had specific purposes outside of their professional union, yet Luka did not intend to follow those purposes. Becoming one family meant that they wouldn't ever attack one another again. That was where it started, and where it ended. She was Miku's wife, by definition. But she wasn't going to cook for her, kiss her, or any of those other things.

They had more important things to do. So did Miku.

She glanced at the teal Queen. When she had entered the building that morning, seeing her waiting at the altar in her beautiful dress, it had been the first time they had met in person since their initial meeting. Black was not her color by any means; the white and blue dress she wore complimented her much better. Her hair had been braided beautifully, shiny and teal, decorated with flowers of all colors.

And, Luka couldn't help but remember, she was barely seventeen.

The Princess Consort sighed again, forcing herself to eat at least a little. The food was good, the wine was good. In the post-war state, it was probably hard to obtain such luxuries. She knew that she had supplied many ingredients for this dinner, sending in her own chefs weeks in advance, but it was still so much. Most of her land was still covered in rubble and ash. Many of her people were still in hospitals, were still finding and burying their dead. It was a bit sickening, really.

But Lily had told her to eat. She often reminded her to eat. She didn't know where she would be without Lily.

It was Lily who reminded her of Miku's birthday. Her intel had provided her with an exact date, and Luka had presumed, as her fiancée, that she ought to send her something. Maybe Miku hadn't expected the delivery of fresh fruit and beautiful flowers, but it was custom in the Empire to send something beautiful and something tasty to the bride. For the groom, if there had been one, it would have been something practical and something instructive. Such were things. Whether Miku had understood or not, she had thanked her for the present.

She hadn't brought it up since, though. Honestly, they hadn't said anything to each other, save for the prepared and rehearsed vows. All dinner, they had been staring ahead, waiting for the day to end.

Luka wondered what Miku was thinking about. Perhaps she had a full agenda the following day. People to talk to, things to tend to. Soon, she would have to show Miku around her old Empire and teach her of local customs and needs. Even if she was the one who was still in control of that territory, Miku would have the final say as Queen, and that say could only be better if she understood how it all worked.

There always was more to do. They didn't have much time to think about their new status as wives to one another, really. It was a detail. A note on some documents. Just a formality to make sure peace would stay. If anything, Miku and her Kingdom cared about it a whole lot more. They were the ones who cared so dearly about the importance of family. Maybe Miku was thinking about that. About how her only family had been reduced to one single woman, a stranger, her wife.

Luka sighed and finished her cold plate. Miku had eaten at a slow pace throughout the evening, barely touching her wine. Her crown also looked like it weighed a ton.

She was probably used to it, though. Miku knew so much more about being a ruler. She was the late King's daughter for crying out loud. Maybe one of seven, eight, nine, Luka didn't know. She had been the youngest; all the others had been married with little kids of their own and all had been killed in an attack on a train.

It was a miracle Miku was alive. Her youth and celibacy had saved her, in a way. Or, she probably was unmarried only because her intended had perished beforehand.

War was messy. Luka didn't know the chronology. Either way, the point was that Miku was the late King's daughter and had grown up in these circles. She had been raised to be a Queen. She had been shown everything. She had probably gotten all the more lessons after her elder siblings and their little ones had died.

Luka wished she had had the same luxury. She was still learning on the fly.

Lily gave her a subtle nod of the head; a wordless question, asking whether she was alright. Luka nodded back, her smile uncertain.

By pure definition, she was fine. Comparing to most people in their lands, she was doing splendidly. But she was tired.

All she wanted was to collapse and sleep.

One of the religious leaders stood, getting everyone's attention. He thanked everybody for coming, announced that it was sundown, and the ceremony was coming to a close. It was time to round things up, for everybody to leave, and leave the newlyweds in peace.

Luka had to stop herself from groaning. Despite all their posturing about sin and sacrifice, they had nonetheless insisted that the final part of the ceremony was that they share a bed on the first night. No matter how much Luka disagreed with it since it was pretty unnecessary, the misogynistic traits of Luka's Empire and the family-focused traits of Miku's Kingdom agreed on this point.

There was still time, though: everybody walked up to the Queen and Princess consort, wishing them well, blessing their futures, bidding them goodnight, and all that stuff with a variety of bows and gestures. Luka returned them, her new bow well-rehearsed. Although her title was Princess, she clung onto the masculine garb and motions; even this wedding and becoming a wife wouldn't stomp the tomboy out of her.

After the endless goodbyes and other rounding off procedures, which probably took an hour at the least, the two were led to their room. They walked through the vast halls of the palace to get there; somehow, most of it had escaped relatively unscathed. Many delicate sculptures had been damaged, a whole wing was in need of repairs, but a new coat of grey paint had been applied, the dark red rugs were new, the tile washed, the gemstones polished.

It was far better than the state of the Emperor's palace. And it was strange, to see such a beautiful sight in a post-war environment.

The bedroom itself was far larger than it needed to be. The four-poster bed was huge, but even it was dwarfed by the length of the walls, the height of the windows. A positively massive chandelier hung from the center of the room, illuminating the entire space. The curtains pooled on the floor, the carpet was plush, all the furniture looked new and all metal and shiny materials glimmered in the golden light.

The door was shut behind them.

They were alone.

Luka let out a sigh and immediately removed the crown from her head.

"No hard feelings if I put this thing down?" she asked.

"Not at all; they have prepared for that."

The Princess blinked and saw, next to the door, a squat dresser upon which waited two plush pillows, just the right size for the crowns. These were the same pillows the ceremonial crowns had been lifted up off of earlier that day if the heavy indents in them were any indication.

Luka placed the heady headdress on its pillow with an eagerness that bordered on haste.

"They are heavy," Miku conceded, following suit. "And uncomfortable."

"Oh, great, it's not just me," the taller woman groaned. There were no chairs in the room.

"They are made for appearance, not for comfort," the tealette said, making her way to one of the windows. "If your new crown is not easy to wear, let me know; it's meant to be worn on a daily basis."

"Alright. I will."

"How have you been since we last met?"

Luka sighed; small talk had never felt so small. "Busy. There is a lot to clean up. Always more to do."

"You have taken extra lessons?"

"Yes. You noticed?"

"Your accent is almost perfect," Miku said with a slight smile.

"Oh. Thank you."

"Why is it, that you know my language? As far as everybody has told me, children in your schools weren't taught our tongue, and rather the one of your neighbors to the east."

Luka joined her at the window. There wasn't much to see; it was dark and cloudy. Only a few pale lights dappled the city before them. They probably still had energy consumption issues.

"I always liked languages," she muttered. "I studied them at length."

"Do you know many?"

"I was learning my seventh when I was suddenly told I was to rule."

"Seven!" Miku said with a gasp. To see such sincere surprise on her stoic features was almost jarring. "Amazing!"

Luka shrugged. "It was fun. Now, it's useful, I guess."

"Very much so. I was very glad to learn that we didn't have to communicate with the help of our translators. That made things much easier."

"It did."

"And it is good, to be married to someone I can understand," Miku went on. "Right after you contacted us to discuss peace, everybody around me insisted I ask for a marriage contract. I went in there knowing that I would walk away either engaged or responsible for an ongoing war. While one is clearly worse than the other, it was daunting, imagining that I would be promised to a man who not only would not listen to me, but could not."

Luka frowned. "I can only imagine. When I told my experts I wanted peace, everybody said that I wouldn't ever be able to convince you I wouldn't attack again unless such a contract was made. If it was that, or war, it was an easy choice to make."

"You knew you spoke our language. That does make it easier, going in."

"I suppose. Neither of us imagined being wed to another woman, though."

"No, not in a million years."

Luka wanted to grin, but she didn't have the energy. "I want to sleep."

At that, the tealette turned towards her, a hint of wariness in her eyes. "That is all? Sleep?"

"Of course. Don't tell me you expected anything else. I know this is technically the wedding night, but I intend to stay on my side of the bed no matter what."

"It is not so much that I expected anything more; rather, I feared the possibility," Miku admitted.

Luka nodded; the Queen had always had this night looming over her, she reminded herself. It was impossible for her to imagine what it was like for the tealette, to grow up knowing that one night, a man would take her, whether she liked it or not. For the night to finally be there but for the risk to be gone must be a considerable disconnect.

She shivered to herself. "Nothing is going to happen," she insisted.

"Very well," the Queen said, her voice carrying more relief than she probably intended.

"I don't presume that they prepared sleepwear for us?"

"That isn't custom."

"This isn't custom," Luka grumbled. "Fine."

With tired hands, she started taking off the bulk of her attire. First, all the accessories, the shawls, cape, boots and belts and buckles. With the outermost layer placed on the desk, boots against the wall, she shed the heavy vest, leaving her in the pair of beautiful crisp pants, and a stiff shirt designed to make her look bigger and taller than she really was.

As she worked with the various details of her wear, Miku did the same at the other end of the room. Luka refused to look at her, obsessing over getting to a state where she could collapse onto the bed and pass out. She removed the shirt, and finally, she had nothing on above the waist but the undershirt which was more like a deluxe, high-thread-count tank top, and her gym bra.

For one night, and one night only, the bra could stay. The tank top was very long, so she shed the pants as well, not having to worry about being too immodest.

She was too tired to care either way.

After one long overdue trip to the attached bathroom, she finally dropped onto the bed, almost face-first. The blankets were very, very nice. As were the pillows. With a tired arm, she pulled on one of the cords and a huge thick curtain dropped, isolating her side of the bed from the world.

The peak of luxury.

While she settled under the covers, Miku continued to work on her dress. Her gloves and shoes and most of her hair accessories were gone, but Luka saw that the bodice of her dress was laced; she was having trouble undoing the knot at the top.

Ah yes, the present for the eager groom to unwrap.

With a scowl, Luka rolled to the other side of the bed. "Need help with all that?"

Miku didn't reply for a moment, until she finally admitted, "Perhaps."

Luka stood and immediately went for the knot, which sat in the middle of her back.

The Queen was so small, really. The decorated hair and veils and crowns and decorations all made her look like a powerful and capable adult. Up close, all those extra things set aside, Luka saw her slim shoulders, how much smaller she really was.

The Princess almost regretted eating earlier; she wanted to be sick.

With firm determination, she undid the knot and helped pull at the strings so that the bodice could come loose without too much further help.

"Is that alright?" she asked, wanting nothing more than to close her eyes and for tomorrow to find her.

"I need some help with my hair," the Queen said, already busy plucking all the flowers from her tresses. "I have never had it like this, and I can't see where the pins are."

Pins? Luka hadn't ever done much with her hair; the eventual ponytail was about as far as she went. To think that there were pins in the braided mass almost scared her.

She wanted sleep more than anything, yet she gently helped untie and free her hair. Soon enough, one lock fell free, then another, the braids coming loose almost as soon as the ends hit the floor.

Luka's eyes almost bugged out of her skull.

"You... Your hair is very long," she muttered.

"It is! It's our pride and joy," Miku said with a little more cheer. "I have tried growing it longer, but it never went much further."

"To the floor is plenty long enough," Luka said as she found and pulled out the last pin. The final braid coiled and twirled and tumbled down, leaving the tealette there in her white dress, a veritable waterfall pouring from her skull.

In the light of the chandelier, it truly did look like sky-blue ocean water. Sun-kissed, waving in some parts and smooth in others. Whatever her care routine was, it was perfect; there were almost no knots, no split ends.

Luka started to understand why they treasured that color so fiercely. She watched as the Queen gathered the tresses in her hands, slowly starting to braid them. Probably to avoid any knots during the night.

It was a sight to see.

"Anything else?"

"No. I should be fine from now on."

Luka nodded, already halfway back to the bed. "Great. Good night."

"Sleep well."

"Yeah, you too."

Luka collapsed onto the bed a second time, only making the effort to get back on her side. She tucked herself in, closed her eyes, and let out a nice, deep sigh.

She needed sleep. She had never really imagined that getting married was so exhausting. Sure, all that royal stuff had always been exhausting, but there was something about standing there for a whole day, listening to old men go on and on about the God and the Lord about her Sins and Sacrifices with a heavy crown that was just draining.

After a moment, faint sounds came from the attached bathroom. Minutes later, the chandelier clicked as it was turned off before she felt the other side of the mattress dip; Miku had gone to bed as well. She pulled her own curtain, and darkness enveloped them.

So, this is what sharing a bed was like. Luka listened to her breathe, noticed how it evened out, realized at one point that she was actually asleep.

Luka opened her eyes.

The fatigue was weighing down her bones. She could feel how heavy she was, every sore muscle, how her brain struggled to form even a single coherent thought.

Yet she was still awake.

She turned on to her back. The bed was huge; there was still plenty of space between them, which was perfect.

Was she too warm? Not warm enough? Maybe she was thirsty.

Why couldn't she sleep?

Luka turned her head to face Miku.

The Queen of the Hatsune Kingdom. No, also the ruler over her own Empire.

Her wife.

Luka shook her head. What a strange thought.

What a wholly alien concept.

Luka couldn't take it anymore. She rolled out of bed and pushed aside the heavy curtain, walking up to a window so she could take in the drained city sight.

She sat on the floor since there were no chairs around. Sometimes, she could see the moon through the clouds, but that was it.

At one point, she felt that she started to cry. There was nobody watching, though. There was nobody to see. Who would care. Who would judge.

"Luka?"

The woman flinched. Miku was standing by the poster of the bed, in her underwear. The Princess quickly averted her eyes, training them on the spot where she last saw the moon.

"You're awake?"

"I had a nightmare," she said easily.

"Oh," Luka mumbled, trying to wipe away her tears with her palm. "I'm sorry."

"...You are crying."

"Yeah. I am."

Miku's footfalls were totally silent, absorbed by the plush carpet, so Luka jumped again when she sat on the floor slightly behind her, to the side.

"I'm sorry. It's not very becoming, is it," she said, no longer bothering with hiding her tears. She didn't intend to face her anyway, undressed the way she was.

"It's alright." After a moment, the Queen added, "I always expected to cry on my wedding night. It is not too strange."

Luka sighed, hating how her breath shook as the quiet crying gently grew into outright sobs.

"Do you wish to talk about it?" Miku asked.

"About what?"

"Why you're crying."

"Which reason shall I start with?" Luka grumbled. "Oh, where shall I begin?!"

"Wherever you see fit," Miku replied when Luka didn't continue.

Luka wished she knew enough of the language to swear. "I... I was never supposed to be a ruler. I was just some normal kid who happened to have some royal blood. As a woman to boot, in a family with so, so many men? I never even had to imagine being part of a royal family, much less a leader! All my relatives had more weight in this than I ever did. They were all involved and they all knew all about it and they were all trained. I just went to university to study languages and linguistics! I could hang out with my friends, go bowling and watch movies and all that! Even with the war going on, we managed to find a way to make the best of it. We volunteered in the factories, helped pack supply drops, parcels, we wrote letters, spent time with the kids in the orphanages, hospitals... But I was just a kid, and suddenly some guy knocks on my door and tells me I'm Empress Regnant!"

Luka swore in her language, hands deep in her hair, pulling as hard as she could. "I was still trying to accept that my parents had been killed! You get that?! I was just a kid living my life and doing her best and my parents get wiped off the face of the earth and now I'm responsible for the whole country!"

Miku didn't reply, but Luka could see out of the corner of her eye how she leaned against the wall, paying her full attention.

After some deep breaths, Luka went on, "I was never supposed to be a ruler. I never got the training. I wasn't even immersed in the life. You know how many times I went to the palace before I was Empress? Maybe three times. Three! I still get lost in that hell-hole, even though half of it is level with the ground!"

"Despite how unprepared you were, you're doing a good job," Miku said quietly. Luka breathed a bit and looked at her, prompting her to go on, saying, "You were very composed and prepared for our first meeting, I thought."

"Barely," Luka mumbled, staring at the moon once again. "Every day it's another exercise in improvising. It's more faces and things I should know that I don't. There's so much I just couldn't expect or even imagine. And every time I get lost, I catch myself thinking 'I wish my mom could come help me with this' or 'I hope my dad can show me how to do this', only to remember that they are dead. I'm so alone. I'm lonely..."

Miku nodded. "Yes. That is the hardest part."

"God, I wish," Luka spat, too tired to be venomous. "When they told me that I would have to get into an arranged marriage to secure peace? I almost passed out. I wanted nothing more than peace, because I've seen firsthand what the war has done, and I don't fucking care about owning water or anything," she growled, swearing again in the other language. "You know how often arranged marriages happen in my Empire? Zero. It just never happens. It is illegal! Even the late Emperor married a woman he met and loved, at least to a certain degree. Being the last living relative? I knew that I would be the one marrying a stranger. I never even thought about getting married out of love, you know that? I don't care about getting married. But suddenly, I have to. I... I had to."

Silence fell between them for a moment. After a long minute, Miku whispered, "I can't imagine."

"No, I guess not. And it gets worse, you know? After I spent every minute of those days waiting for the meeting making peace with the fact that some random dude would essentially own me someday soon, accepting that, yes, maybe I will have children a lot sooner than I ever wanted, literally pulverizing my already destroyed vision of my future, you went and told me that you were the only one left, too." She hissed, finishing with, "And while I can't lie that there's a certain comfort that you can't make me pregnant, you just had to be a minor."

Miku shifted. "I... I did not understand why you had cared so much about my age when we first met. Here, it is normal for royalty to be married at the age of sixteen."

"Sixteen!" Luka seethed. "Your promised spouse died a while ago, then!"

"Yes. Otherwise, I would have been married. I looked into your perspective, and now I see how and why the concept disturbed you so much."

"It sickens me," the Princess spat. "I hate this. I hate being married, I hate being married to a minor, I hate being married to a minor who had to grow up expecting to be... I don't know the word. Attacked? On her wedding night. It's just all so wrong and bad and sick."

Miku nodded slowly. "There are parts of your culture I do not understand, either."

"Yeah, I get that. We're misogynistic in our own ways. Women are second-best. Sure, they can marry who they want, can get the jobs they want, but no, they can't buy property, found a business, rule the Empire." Luka sighed. "I want to change all that."

"You can."

"There's so much else to do, though."

"As a ruler, there is always more. It is one of the first things my father told me: it never ends. There will always be more."

Luka wiped her tears. "How do you cope with all this? Being an orphan, married to a stranger, responsible for so many lives?"

"...With difficulty. I admit I had some preparation, growing up here. I always knew more or less what it was like. And I admit, marrying you is far better than anything I would have ever dreamt of. In a certain regard, that made things easier."

Luka shook her head. "Lord, I could still attack you. I'm far too old for you."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty. I turn twenty-one in January."

"That is not so bad. Only a three year difference: that is legal in your country."

"Well, from January to August, that's four years. That's less legal," she pointed out. "Plus, it also comes down to my personal opinion: never would I ever willingly enter a relationship with someone so much younger than me. In this part of our lives, every year counts, and three is already a lot."

"That is true," Miku muttered. "But it is far better than what it would have been with my cousin."

"Oh no," Luka groaned. "Was he in his twenties?"

"Older."

"Thirties? Disgusting."

"Yes... I suppose it is," the Queen sighed, also turning to look at the moon; it had reappeared from its hiding place behind the clouds. "I suppose I will also start changing that, too."

"Don't tell me that such marriages are also legal for your people."

"...Yes and no. The youngest one can marry is sixteen, and there are no age limitations, but marriages may not be arranged; that is a privilege for the royal family."

"Please get rid of that."

"I will. I quite like your laws in that regard."

"They're not perfect either."

"We both have much to fix."

Luka chuckled. "We do." After a moment spent sniffling and drying her tears, she muttered, "I guess I am a better fate than your thirty year old cousin."

"Much," Miku said with a smile. "My father told me something else, shortly before he passed."

"Oh?"

"He told me to always remember the good things. When you rule, you often deal with all that people need, want, demand. Even when he worked on things that others would consider fun, he was the one organizing it. He told me to always keep good things close. It is a way to stay sane."

"Right... I guess things could have gone a lot worse, today, for example."

"Nobody tried to kill us!" Miku laughed. "I was so worried."

"Yeah. And the food was good."

"Very," the Queen said with a smile, before turning towards her. "And perhaps we are not the ideal spouse for one another. But we could try to be friends, more than anything."

Luka hummed. "Yeah. We get along pretty ok."

"And we have similar goals."

"We do." Luka met her eyes. For the first time that evening, she took in her appearance. Her already-alabaster skin, typical for those who lived so far north, looked almost ghostly in the moonlight. It pronounced her fatigue, though, the circles under her eyes dark. It was the only detail that made her look real; the Queen was otherwise unreally beautiful. Luka almost looked away again but found it easier to look at her and think about her as a friend, instead of a wife. Friends hung out late at night. Friends didn't care much about how well clothed they were. They didn't care about their status as royalty.

"Yeah. We can try to be friends before being wives. That stuff can stay on paper."

"Exactly."

The Princess lowered her gaze. "It'll still be tough."

"Always."

"Would... Would you hold it against me, if I asked for your help? I have no clue sometimes."

The Queen's smile turned to something softer, more delicate. "Of course not. I can't guarantee that I'll know everything. But once our two nations are unified, and I know your customs better, I can take over many tasks."

"I don't want you to rule all on your own, you know."

"I know."

"When it comes to international meetings, trade stuff..."

"I can handle all that in your stead, given enough time."

Luka sighed. "Thank you."

"If this all goes smoothly enough," Miku started, sounding the slightest bit uncertain, "And if you have time, of course, then maybe you could resume your studies, eventually."

"Wh— Really?"

"Yes."

"That would mean more than I can say."

Miku only smiled.

After regarding her for another moment, Luka looked at the city again. "Yeah. If we try to be friends first, then I think things will be ok."

"I think so, too."