Though Lucy's expression softens at that, the words striking more of a chord than she'd care to admit or than she can hide, she's quick to shake her head. The last thing she wants is to make this somehow about her, especially when her own romantic ventures have never ended well. It would actually be pretty fucking funny, she thinks, if it hadn't made her so miserable for so long, and if she hadn't been alone now for longer than any of those relationships lasted. At least she's not so bitter that she can't celebrate on someone else's behalf. Reluctant as she might be to let people too close these days, she would never want to wind up like that.

"It was a long time ago," she says lightly, "and in another world. He, uh, disappeared before we could get married." And Ishiah had been there to help her get past it, something she's never been able to forget, even if he doesn't know it here. Just like he's said to her, though, she's never been able to stop seeing him as family. "But, I mean, that's the risk you take when you get engaged in a place where people vanish without warning. It's fine."