She can feel it now; it's not just her imagination. It's palpable in his voice and it gives her hope. A part of her knows she's being a damned fool. She's lived five centuries and managed to only get romantically entangled once before. She's always had her work; the Academy, Helium, the war, all of it consumed everything she had to give. And John.

Is that what this is? Has having Curtis so close opened old wounds? Spilling memories of happier times like so much fresh blue blood? No. No, certainly it echoes those times, but it is different. New. Precious and rare.

She shakes her head, her grip not lessening a bit. "It's not okay, but that's all right. It will be. I promised you, I want us to be happy, and we may not always be. But I will always work to bring us back there. You have my word on that, Curtis Everett."

Another complex storm of emotion washes over him, and amid the darker emotions, hope and love shine through like the moons of Barsoom. Full and bright, shedding holy light on the shadow, driving it back. There is no war she has fought that she has not won. No love that she has declared that has gone unrequited. She is Dejah Thoris, and she will not bow her head in defeat.