"Darling," he croaks, "this may be our last date together." You look at him sadly and grab his hand. His face is pale and his hand cold, but you can't find it within yourself to let go. Blood oozes from his chest wound despite your weak attempt to cover the injury, and his grip grows weaker. You've never been one for healing magic, but you wish you could do a basic mending spell. You're both desired by multiple kingdoms; him for attempted murder and you as an accomplice. You're unsure of what happened, but you have already convinced yourself of your innocence- not that it matters much to the people who want your head. The man in front of you smiles weakly and says your name, and your heart flutters.