The first time she deliberately left the guarding of his back to other people, it was for his own safety. Riza knew that if she continued to do so, the chances of failing her mission would increase. It was better to leave the task to people more capable of accomplishing it.

It was the inaugural ceremony for Roy Mustang as he finally was convened the highest rank Amestris could give him. The two years following the Promised Day were pure hard work and toiling for them all, yet they were finally putting the Flame Alchemist on top.

Riza watched as her grandfather addressed the country of Amestris for the last time as Führer before giving Roy the floor. His speech was simple, concise, and very appealing to the general masses. She would know; she helped write it, so Roy wouldn't sprinkle too many elaborate and hifalutin words.

By the end of his address, the formality of the ceremony was halted and the drinks were wheeled into the ballroom courtesy of the other generals in the council. The intermingling crowd made her vision a little blurry that Riza knew if she stayed any longer, her perfectly stoic mask will slip.

Riza ordered Breda to watch the now-Führer as she excused herself under the guise of latrine break. Making sure no one followed her, the Major General silently made her way to the back of the building. She found the quiet of the night to be more calming than the brightly lit and colourfully decorated celebration hall.

The tightness of her ambulation and the ache in her feet reminded the high-ranking army official why she preferred walking in boots and military-issued bottoms. Riza walked aimlessly until she reached a quaint back garden. It wasn't too far from the festivities but it was far enough that the sound of merriment was drowned away by the stillness of the eve.

She sat down gingerly on the cold, stone bench and sighed to herself in an attempt to placate the whirring emotions within her. Of all the things that she had thought of preparing herself for, she never expected to be the one who was actually very sentimental about the idea of Roy becoming Führer.

While she was extremely proud at the man for keeping his flame burning until he got to this point in his life, Riza was likewise filled with astonishment that they were able to realise such dream that was ignited in the midst of naïveté and innocent hopefulness…back when their world view was not yet corrupted by the existence of philosopher stones, homunculi, and possible eternal life.

Riza gripped the fabric of her skirt as she shook to mollify the onslaught of her thoughts and overwhelming sentiments. After a few minutes of tug and war with her own self, she finally let the tears fall. The blur in her vision was back as she stared at her lap, not even making any move to dry the dampness of her face.

"You shouldn't be out here, Sir," she whispered, her voice hitching. It wasn't difficult to sense his presence when she has been behind him for as long as she could remember. "You are the man of the hour."

"How can I fulfil my duties without you there?" he asked.

The Major General wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. The small release was thankfully enough for her to put a rein on her emotions once more. "The others can guard you well enough."

"You know it's not about that," Roy retorted gently before his voice grew softer in tone. "Are you okay?"

Her shoulders bunched up slightly to indicate a shrug but it wasn't convincing enough to pass as nonchalance…at least not to the man beside her. "I am."

"Then why the tears?"

She shook her head slightly, her shoulder-length hair ruffling from their gentle rest against her clothes. "All of this just feels too much to take in now that it's here and in front of us, actually happening."

The corners of Roy's mouth twitched upwards slightly and he nodded even if she couldn't see him. "It is, isn't it?"

Several beats of silence passed in between them as they both remained unmoving beneath the moonlight and against the gentle caress of the cool autumn zephyr. Her tears have completely stopped now and Riza allowed herself to sit back against the bench.

The atmosphere of their surroundings may have been light and breezy but she could almost taste the question that Roy hoped that she would answer.

"It's always been my goal to make sure you get to the top," she started gently, fiddling with her skirt. "Now that you are there, I feel extremely fulfilled yet I do not know what to do with myself. I have only thought of this far."

The newly minted Führer eyed his long-time partner and friend. "Are you saying you've done enough?"

"No, Sir."

In one swift motion, the Flame Alchemist was on the ground before her. His eyes were seeking her gaze and she breathed deeply to keep herself from hyperventilating. For the longest time, she was thankful that her task was to watch his back. She would have had a difficult time schooling her heartbeat and breath if she were subject to such gaze on a daily basis. The few and far in between moments when she was under his intense regard over the years were enough to floor her.

"Good," she heard him mumble, "because I need you now more than ever."

No amount of deep breathing would have been able to keep the shortness of her breath away, nor would they have dissipated the urge to let the tears fall freely once more. His words made her chest expand, contract, and leap bounds, jumping from one figurative cliff to another.

The blurriness of her vision returned yet somehow, she could see him clearly as he suddenly takes her smaller hand in one of his and presses an object into her palm. It was a circular band with what seemed to be a stone perched at one of its sides, modest but intricate.

"So please, please, please."

He chanted the word over and over again, nothing else falling from his lips. No statements, no questions, just implorations.

Far too taken with her sentiments once more, she took her hand away from his wordlessly and turns it over to reveal the object in her palm. Riza then slipped the ring onto its rightful place around her finger.

"I can count with one hand the number of times you held my hand, yet somehow this ring fits snugly," she remarked, voice tender.

A small, sheepish grin found its way on his lips. This sight was such a rarity; Roy Mustang seldom looked abashed. "You'd be a fool to assume that the feel of your hands ghosting mine didn't last till today. Of course, they lingered. I let them linger. I wanted the tactile memory to remain until such time that I could get to hold them once more. And hopefully never let go."

She took his hand in hers and squeezed gently. "Did you plan for today to be the start of such kind of entwine between us?"

"Yes."

Her brow quirked upwards slightly and she shifted closer to him. "Oh? Consider me intrigued."

"The plan was never to become Führer," Roy whispered softly.

"No?"

"No," he confirmed before he took a breath. "The plan was to propose to you after becoming Führer."

This time, Riza leaned in pressed her lips on to his. It was brief, innocent, yet enough for the moment.

When they parted Roy tugged her closer so that her forehead rested against his. The Führer freed one hand from her warm grasp and rested gently on her nape. His thumb drew mindless patterns that tickled her skin, resulting to a faint blush colouring her soft cheeks.

"Forgive me, my love."

"What for?"

"You are going to have to strain your neck to watch my back now."

"Why?"

"Because it's time we walk side by side."