A/N: As the summary says, this is a random one shot that I just so happened to write at about 12:30 in the morning. I pray that this is decent enough to even be on here, considering that I wrote it in such little time.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Ashe, Rasler, Ivalice, and all that other good stuff. They belong to Square Enix.


My Prince is gone.

Far in another world he now resides, hopefully watching over me in the heavens above.

I fear that a part of me has trailed after him, as cliché as it may sound. I can no longer feel the finger upon which I don my wedding ring. It is strange how one's state of mind can trigger physical reactions such as that.

And yet I haven't wept very much--it's been too much of a shock. I'm so skeptical that I sometimes wonder if this is all just a terrible, terrible nightmare that just refuses to end. It's just so hard to grasp the fact that he has left me. He was so brave, so strong. How could something like death have gotten to him so early in life? No one is immune to death, of that I know, but why must it affect those who are so young and have years ahead of them to live? It is cruel, even more so than war.

But I must stay strong. I must begin to prepare for my coronation. In times such as this Dalmasca cannot go without a Queen or else we will all be condemned to the control of the Empire. However, if her Queen is not strong then an equal fate will meet her, maybe not as quickly, but surely soon enough.

Yet when I think of such things my mind only returns to my Prince. If he had not been taken away from me then I would have a King by my side. A noble King he would be. His love for his people was only exceeded by his want for peace between the nations. Yes, he would have made a fine, fine King. Together we would have fought through the war, creating a treaty the instant the opportunity came forth, and would have prevented another conflict such as the one we are currently facing occur for quite a length of time.

But that dream has since perished as I now stand before a mirror, clad in a billowing black dress and veil. A billowing black funeral dress and veil, to be precise. I am not sure how I will get through the funeral without weeping. I suppose the attendees will just have to see their Princess' weak side. Even now as I leave my quarters small tears are beginning to wrench themselves from my eyes at the mere thought of the event.

And as I began to descend the staircase to meet with the carriage that would escort me to the church, only one thought rang through my conscious mind:

"Rest in peace, Rasler. Rest in peace, my King."