"You were sleeping again, sir." Riza said as she handed him his tea and three individual lumps of sugar. Roy yawned before moving to wipe away the drool lingering on his cheek—disgusted, he cleared his throat and looked away. His stoic friend handed him a small silver spoon for him to twist and spin his simmering tea. There was tense silence between them as she turned away with the metal tray and set it down on the coffee table in front of a couch, smoothing out her dress. Her soft curves and prominent features shone in the dress that accented her so well, even though he knew she hated it. "Your guests are here."

He wanted to kick like a child, turn them away and take a nap, but he couldn't. People needed him to be the firm leader he wanted to be on the battlefield and in the office. A recent border argument to the east had gotten him in trouble, smacking him in the face as the higher ranks glared at him angrily. It wasn't his fault that the border guards were enraged in their own sort of vengeance after the war in Ishval, but if he couldn't control them, how could he lead a nation under one leader? How could he snatch the throne from the King if he didn't have the full support of the military? He watched as Riza grabbed the men in the office by the ear and nearly dragged poor Havoc out of his office, her firm voice snapping at him as he complained.

His team of supervisors followed Riza out as Havoc made another silly joke, which earned him a smack to the face. Roy smirked, picking up the tea cup and sipping at the heat. He was still exhausted, still tired, and the maps on his desk seemed pointless to study now. He was losing sleep from the constant moving to and from the Capitol city. His body was fatigued; his eyes closing the more he stared at charts and maps the Knight of Fullmetal had sent him. Stupid kid had no chance in running for the king's position if he had the chance, but he doubted Edward would even care. He slowly set the tea back onto the table and invited himself to close his eyes for a moment—it wouldn't kill him to relax for just a few minutes….

Not even twelve minutes later he heard the door creak open and he jerked awake, nearly tipping his cup of tea over. Riza stood with the door open and her head bowed like a proper young lady before he saw his supposed guests entering. There was a soft sigh of the breeze as a burly man entered in long tendrils of a suit, a thick red tie matching the color of his face, looking like it was choking him. Following him was a much more petite woman in deep blue silk, her chest nearly exposed, long dark curls flowing down her back. Blue, blue eyes met his and he was nearly enveloped in so much sadness and depression that his time in Ishval came rushing back within seconds.

As they made their way to stand in front of his desk, he spotted her hands tucked tightly in her lap. Roy's frown increased as he saw lingering scars and fading bruises on her skin, up and down her arms and next to her collarbone. She looked desperate for him to say something, desperate for him to welcome her to his home. "May I help you?" He said, tearing his gaze off of her for just a moment. He couldn't even begin to form proper words of welcome for this set of guests. He thought he was about to freeze under the cold gaze of the man staring at her—it didn't do well for the Flame Mage to freeze—and he stood to ignore meeting either gaze.

"My daughter is very beautiful," The burly man's voice matched his size, deep and thick. There was a long, incredibly loud moment of silence before he continued, his black gaze glaring at the excuse he called for a daughter. Roy noticed she was quivering under her father's harsh gaze, her smile pressed and hinting at the sadness. A cry for help. A soft cry of help. "I would look to propose my daughter to you because of her high beauty and noble status."

Roy nearly jumped in surprise before gulping slowly. Marriage? Marriage…. Maybe it would make him seem like he truly had a heart to give, and not something that was fake and formed. Still, he had no time for marriage, nor did he have time for a woman constantly waiting for him back home with three little lords and ladies running around. He needed to focus on his rise to the top and stay that way. He couldn't afford to lose his goals. As he went to reject the proposal, he saw the sight of her whimpering blue eyes. Desperate, pained, hurting. His gaze met the bruises and scars and another pit of grief filled him. It wasn't even her choice that she should hurt him this way. He figured if he sent her away her father would beat the poor thing for not being beautiful enough when it wasn't even that for the fault.

He sighed softly. "Very well. A marriage will be formed." He said through tight lips. He was such a pushover, dammit, he didn't need this at all. There was a slow look of hope that invaded her bright blue eyes and the smile that came across her face was genuine instead of fake. She was quite pretty when she wasn't hiding behind her father. He felt his own smile growing no matter how cursed he felt. His black eyes turned to the burly man as he stood, nearly tipping his tea over once more. "I'd like to keep her here, though, until the wedding."

"When?"

"When we decide," He said sternly, walking around his desk and taking the man by the arm and leading him to the door. "It will be wonderful to have a woman around to take care of my every need. You can send her items to my home in the Capitol, if it pleases you." There was another moment of astounded silence before he pushed the burly man out of his office and closed the door behind him, wondering if he could bar the doors shut with his fire and how much heat it would require. He put a hand on his hip and slowly, very slowly, turned to face her.

The poor, fragile looking girl appeared as if she were going to cry, breathing in and out heavily as if she was unsure whether to smile or sob in despair. He went rigid as his frown grew, bigger and bigger until he sighed. "I don't want to marry you," He whispered softly. There was another tense moment of silence before the girl—he still didn't even know her name—broke into a smile and raced forward, her thick silk dress nearly catching her up. Without hesitation she threw herself into his arms and began to cry. Roy stood tense and tight against her tight hugs and desperate sobs. "R-R-Riza!" He called, even though he figured she wouldn't hear him.

It wasn't even ten minutes later, the door behind him opened and there appeared his best friend with Fuery close behind her. The squire gave a weak smile to Roy as Riza pried the girl from his arms and took her into her own. Good, he thought, breathing softly as his best friend ran her hand down the young girl's back comfortingly. Though Hawkeye was stoic and instilled fear into their team, she was better at comforting women than he was. She glanced at him in utter confusion—as if Fuery hadn't snuck his communication skills through the walls as soon as possible—before turning to face the girl. "Shh, dear, shh…."

Havoc raced into the room, nearly running into the two women. He was desperately out of breath, panting desperately. A half smoked cigarette clung to the tip of his lips as he leaned over to pant, choking on his own smoke. "Sir…problem…." He said, holding up a letter which passed through Fuery to himself. Roy glanced at the red seal, the seal of a three clawed panther. Confusion spread through him faster than a wildfire as he peeled open the letter and quickly scanned through the words. His heart dropped into his stomach as he read what happened and he almost dropped it out of surprise.

The Catalinas were dead.