“It was my father’s,” the princess said, minutes before his departure to Earth. His body was still, but his heart strummed with so much want, and his arms ached, the desire to hold her threatening to consume him. He remained silent as she clasped the bracelet onto his wrist, her soft fingers lingering over his open palm. “He would have wanted - you’re the Red Lion’s successor, you see. He would have wanted you to have it.”

Several moments passed between them. Allura’s gaze hovered on the bracelet while Lance continued to watch her face, stripped of any regal elegance or noble command. She was vulnerable, afraid. Her heart was there - right there for the taking. It encapsulated them, filling the space between them with urgent, obvious yearning. She wanted Lance; she wanted Lance to stay. He could lift her chin and meet her eyes, could lean in and kiss her, could tell her he would stay. And she would let him, embrace it and all the happiness it would bring them.

But Lance missed his family. He missed his home. He could not stay, and he could not kiss Allura. No matter how he longed to hold her, to kiss her, to smile as she deepened the kiss and the rest of the paladins departed without him. Lance would not give in. It would be unkind to them both.

Lance had never likened himself to a coward, but maybe this is how a coward felt: fear clutching at his gut and coiling over his heart, suffocating his will to do anything.

“Thank you, Allura,” Lance finally said, pasting a charming smile onto his lips. “I’m honored. I’ll wear it every day, to honor you and your father. I promise.”

Allura did not frown, but she did not smile either. Her eyes did not rim with tears, but the hope within them died, blue pools darkening until they were almost black. Lance was almost sure her heart had stopped; his had. “And I know you will fulfill that promise."

"Please don’t say it, Hunk,” Lance groaned and shut his eyes, resetting his blurry vision. He felt the back of his head throb, his legs stiff. The memory consumed him—it washed over his skin and fractured his tentative resolve. Six months had passed since he’d seen her heart shatter and he still wasn’t over it. “Please don’t make me think about it.”

“Think about it? Or think about her?” Hunk pressed on, stare glossed over in determination. “Lance, you can’t fool me: I know what’s up. I know who gave you that bracelet, and just because you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean -”

“It should mean something, right?” Lance cut him off, his hands clasped onto the table’s rounded sides, knuckles white. “When I want to talk about it, then we can talk about it! But I don’t want to right now. All I want is to sit here and eat this sandwich, visit Shiro and Keith and their little love shack, and then jet off to wherever the hell else the Coalition wants us to go.”

“But you’re not even eating the sandwich, Lance!” Hunk’s voice rose. It caught Lance by surprise and his face slacked, noticing the way his friend’s shoulders shook, how he bristled with worry, his eyes almost crazed. How long had Hunk put off this conversation? “If you were eating the sandwich, if you were enjoying yourself, I would give you space. But you’re not - you haven’t been for the last month! Something’s up, and I know what it is. All I want to do is help you through it.”

“Well, what is it?” Lance egged on, agitation rolling up his throat. Sometimes, Lance loathed how easy his emotions spread out onto his face, how Hunk could dissect his expressions and discover the root of all his problems. Sometimes he wished he was more aloof like Keith or quiet like Shiro - if he was, maybe he could have held onto these feelings a little longer.

“It’s Allura,” Hunk replied, voice almost drained of all emotion. He sounded flat, tired, as if he had just won a battle he did not want to win. “You’re in love with her, and it’s tearing you apart.”

Lance didn’t respond, the words fading and festering between the pair. It was almost odd, to hear his best friend say what he had already, desperately known. What he had failed to tell Allura as he climbed into the Red Lion and flew to earth, the weight of her stare crushing his chest. What he had failed to voice even to himself, alone in his childhood bed, surrounded by the family he had longed for.

He tried to reply, tried to voice his irrevocable affections for the princess he had caught in his arms all those months ago. But the gravity of his feelings and their situation were too heavy, too real for words alone. How could mere words stress the worlds between them, the lives they would have to lead to be together? Would all that suffering and homesickness be worth it?

A dark thought flickered across his mind: is Allura worth all that? He cringed, something soapy and hot gathering at the back of his mouth. If a thought like that crossed him, were his feelings genuine? Or would they scatter and fade as soon as the next pretty girl sauntered into sight?

(Lance knew the answer to both questions: there was only Allura).

His reflections broke as he heard Hunk sigh from above him, having stood up to rub out his stiff neck. When he noticed Lance’s attention was on him once more, he grunted and rubbed his temples, lips drawn in a grimace. “Look, Lance - it’s just…I don’t even know how to say this, but…if you love her, you need to tell her.”

When Hunk didn’t continue, Lance frowned and furrowed his brows. “Easier said than done, pal. You notice I’m on earth and she’s in space and I’m definitely not the kind of guy who’s just gonna call her on the communi -”

“There is a point I’m trying to make here,” Hunk interrupted, body tense. Each word was slow and careful as if Hunk was talking to a child. Or a lovestruck, dumbstruck imbecile. “You need to tell Allura you love her. If you don't tell her, you might regret it for the rest of your life. Even if nothing comes from it, even if you two decide to be billions of light-years away from each other for the rest of your lives - if you don’t tell her, you’ll always be stuck thinking about what you could’ve done to make it work. And I promise you, while it’ll suck for you, it’ll suck for me, too."

"Why’s it going to suck for you?” Lance asked, derailing Hunk’s point. He didn’t need to hear this from his best friend - he didn’t need to hear this at all. Hearing it, even more so than feeling it, made it all the more real. All the more frightening to think about: if he continued like this, he would never have the chance to hold or kiss Allura ever again.

But Hunk did not scoff at his friend’s derailment. Instead, his lips twisted into a bitter smile, and his large, round eyes washed over in longing. In understanding. “Because you have a shot at this, Lance. Allura’s in love with you, too. That’s something I never had.”

Lance took a moment or two to process Hunk’s words, but the realization rushed through him soon after. His face dropped, the aggravation holed up in his stomach withering away. Lance never knew, never even suspected -

“Allura looks ravishing today,” Lance poked at Hunk’s ribs as they sat in the castle’s main lounge, the memory of Allura in that long, satin blue dress looping over his eyes. “I mean, am I wrong?”

Hunk chuckled stiffly, his smile a little too wide. But he answered all the same. “Yep! Stunning, as per usual.”

Hunk wasn’t the type to compete with his friends. He’d rather encourage them, watch them thrive. And if Lance had a crush on a girl, Hunk would never stand in his way, even if he had to stifle his own feelings in the aftermath.

"Are you…are you still…” Lance trailed, unsure of how to ask. Of what to ask.

Hunk replied regardless, his face softening. “I think a part of me will always be in love with her. But I sort of knew it would never happen, even if I was more outgoing about it. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to hide from her and waste the opportunity to be her friend or be there for her when she needs me.”

The words sank into Lance, made him reflect. He didn’t want to stay away from Allura, not forever. He wanted enough time for himself, until his feelings subsided and he could glance at her without want crawling up his spine and plunging into his heart. But his feelings for her had only strengthened in the time they had been a part, and a piece of him curdled at the revelation: how much more could he possibly love Allura?

“For when she needs me, huh?” Lance whispered, looking to his wrist, the gold bracelet peeking out from behind his favorite jacket. “I know you just told me something really important, and now I know that you know how much Allura means to me but I would like to ask: this doesn’t have to do with that invitation we received last month, right?”

Hunk’s stare dropped to the floor as the word “invitation” rolled off Lance’s tongue, eyes now fixed on the dirty paper plate in front of him. “Uh, no. This has nothing to do with that -”

“Man, and you pulled out all the stops on this one, too,” Lance shook his head, his previous unease replaced by flighty mischief. He stood up, ignoring his well-deserved cubano, now at the mercy of the flies and pigeons hovering nearby. “You even confessed that you were in love with her! Made me feel bad for you. Gotta say, this definitely tops last week’s.”

“Lance! Wait, just - ugh!” Hunk squeezed his fists and faced his friend again, stepping away from the table as Lance walked away. “I didn’t say those things to make you feel sorry for me. I wanted to give you some perspective. If you wait too long, something will happen between her and -”

“I’m not going to that gala,” Lance’s voice bordered on a growl, back turned to Hunk. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and wadded chunks of nylon between his fingers, the cool fabric doing little to appease him. “I already told you and everyone else. I’m not going.”

“But you haven’t told her,” Hunk pointed out, his voice losing its conviction. Lance could hear him shuffle from behind him, probably reaching an arm out to grasp his friend by the shoulder. “She’s expecting all of us to be there - Shiro was the one who accepted the invitation.”

“Then that’s on Shiro. He needs to tell her I won’t be there."

"She wants all of us there, Lance. She wants you there, more than anyone.”

Lance wanted to laugh, but he suppressed the urge. If he were to laugh, he might cry. And that would admit so much more than he ever wanted Hunk to know. “Yeah, but she doesn’t need me there. She has someone else for that.”

When Hunk didn’t voice a reply, Lance stalked off towards Shiro and Keith’s apartment, expecting his friend to follow. He needed a breather - maybe he even needed a drink. But neither were viable options: instead, he would have to witness two insufferable lovebirds show off their new apartment, reminding him of everything he did not have. What he had chosen to give away.

It wasn’t until they neared the apartment, Hunk still trailing behind, that his friend muffled a response, his voice weak and gravelly. “She’s going to pick Lotor, and you’ll have to live with it.”

Lance steeled himself and ignored the claim, no matter how true it rang in his ears. And as they walked through the front doors of the apartment complex and up the stairs to the fourth floor, as Hunk knocked on the door and heard Shiro shout a welcome, Lance wondered if this was what a coward felt like.

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“If we arrange the flowers so that each planet’s is interwoven with the others, it can symbolize the progress we have made since the end of Zarkon’s reign. And I think the ambassadors will be most pleased that a piece of their planet is a part of the gala’s centerpiece.”

“That’s a great idea, Allura!” Nyma exclaimed as she looked over the design Allura had sketched out. While her art skills were…less than ideal, Allura had drawn a plausible centerpiece that would both awe and appease the coalition’s representatives at the gala. “And incorporating the gems native to the planets that don’t have plant life like Balmera is just genius. I think everyone will be thrilled with the result.”

Allura nodded and smiled, “Good! If you like it, then I think I’ll send it off to the artisans. I just hope they’re able to gather the materials in time. We have most of the samples in the castle, but a few of the later additions to the Coalition have yet to provide their samples to the castle’s preservation hall.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Nyma replied and clasped her hands together, the tops of her pigtails almost bristling with excitement. “Matt and I can head over to any of the planets that need to be included. It would be our pleasure.”

“That’s a generous offer, Nyma. If both you and Matt are willing, then I would truly appreciate your help with this project,” Allura obliged. Her hands sat on top of her stomach as she bowed her head, and Allura hoped the gesture appeared both friendly and cordial. She and Nyma had grown close in the months following the paladins’ departure; she was probably Allura’s closest companion after Lotor. However, Nyma was also a valuable member of the Coalition and under Allura’s direct leadership. Sometimes, it proved…difficult for Allura to navigate between her roles as both friend and leader. “Though, I do hope Matt agrees.”

“Of course he will—you know he can’t stay inside this castle for longer than a week,” Nyma giggled and pressed her fingers into her chin, a hint of yellow creeping into her cream-colored cheeks. “And it’ll be nice to visit a few planets before the gala. Maybe I can even shop for a dress at that new space mall. It opened last month, right?”

“Yes, I believe it did!” Allura replied, her voice taking on an edge she couldn’t quite decode. Thinking of Nyma and Matt out shopping for formal wear, perhaps jewelry… it reminded her of a certain paladin, offering to buy her something pretty, something sparkly. “Then I’m sure this will prove to be a delightful excursion for the both of you. Please tell Matt I wish you both a safe and happy journey.”

“Wait, Allura—why don’t you come with us?” Nyma suggested. Allura’s eyes widened as Nyma folded her palm over Allura’s shoulder, her smile kind and hinting at something else. Something like understanding. “I’m sure you could delegate most of the gala responsibilities to anyone in the castle. And Coran would definitely call if they needed you. It’s been months since you’ve visited any of the planets outside your scheduled meetings. You should take advantage of all this downtime!”

Allura had to admit: it was a tempting offer. There were more than enough hands around to look over the gala’s preparation, and Coran had already made himself the Coalition’s “official party planner.” And it had been so long since she had done anything that didn’t involve the Coalition and its interests. Why couldn’t she enjoy herself, be more girl than princess and watch her newfound friend fall more and more in love with Pidge’s goofy brother?

Nyma’s smile stretched into impish territory, her eyes flickering to the bright purple crystal dangling from Allura’s neck. “We can even invite Lotor. I bet he’s dying to see you.”

And there it was.

Heat filled Allura’s cheeks and her heart jumped into her throat, stifling her breath. She backed away from Nyma’s hold and brushed her fingers onto the crystal. Its texture was smooth and fine like glass and often calmed Allura’s nerves before another round of Coalition negotiations. Its previous owner also had that effect on her—usually. Mostly.

But it had been three weeks since she had seen Lotor. Three weeks since he had asked to court her again, now that the war was over and the Coalition had enough leaders and blueprints and programs to be self-efficient. Now that he had proven himself once more. Three weeks since she had sent a personal gala invitation to the paladins and had received Shiro’s delighted acceptance.

“We’ll all be there,” Shiro smiled as Keith waved in the background, their apartment filled with large, unopened boxes. “I promise.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Allura said, though her flat tone betrayed her. Shiro frowned and tried to respond, but was interrupted by his hot-headed fiance.

“Yeah, and we’ll drag the rest by their feet if we have to!” Keith shouted, stabbing his knife into a box for emphasis.

“Well, let’s hope you don’t have to resort to that,” Allura replied. Shiro then pointed out that Keith had punctured one of the few boxes marked “fragile.” Keith panicked and Allura laughed as the pair flipped the box open and scoured its contents, making sure nothing of importance was damaged.

But Shiro and Keith both knew who might miss the event. It was the same person who had yet to call her from Earth, who Allura had yet to call herself. It was the boy who used to be her closest companion, someone she thought was her best friend.

Someone she loved. Someone she thought (believed) loved her back.

“It might be unwise to leave while the gala’s preparations are underway,” Allura said, her voice less friendly and more polite. Less Allura and more Princess of Altea. “As the face of the Coalition, I should be the one to look over this monumental event and assure that this is the truest culmination of our thriving alliance. But neither you nor Matt are bound to the castle like I am, and I believe it would be of great benefit to you and the Coalition if you helped with the missing materials for the centerpiece.”

Nyma stepped back, her eyes drooping and lips parted in surprise. Her arm was still outstretched, fingers suspended and stiff. But she must have felt the surrounding atmosphere change, Allura’s guarded heart preventing her from confiding in her friend. Instead, she would push Nyma away. Because she was a princess and because she could. Because she didn’t know how else to deal with her foolish heartache.

“Are… are you sure, Allura?” Nyma attempted, one last time, voice soft and sincere. It almost broke Allura. Perhaps she even wanted to break—to finally tell her friend why she never strayed from the castle for too long. Why she had yet to kiss Lotor and had declined his last several invitations to dinner.

It could be what she needed. Allura could use this opportunity to get closer to Lotor, to surrender to his gentle, endearing charm.  It could prevent her heart from suffocating if the boy she loved kept his distance, if he missed the gala and a chance to dance with a moonstruck princess.

Allura did not want to give in, however. She had to know if Lance would answer her call, or if the tension between them would dissipate as Allura turned from this unchosen path and moved on. Or perhaps the tension would always remain, a thousand what-ifs plaguing her mind whenever the red paladin stepped into view.

“Thank you for the offer, Nyma. And thank you for your kindness,” Allura said. She stepped forward and reached out, fingers grazing Nyma’s bare shoulder. Allura’s eyes softened, showing she was fine—she was okay and Nyma wouldn’t have to worry. “But I’ll feel better if I stay behind. Besides…perhaps yours and Matt’s time would be better used alone. Together.”

Allura’s last word drawled and lingered, and Nyma’s blush soon returned at her friend’s insinuation. The fur on her neck stood up, voice shrill, “Holy quiznak—Allura!”