Romeo shook his head, brushing off the condolences and any urge to explain further. Suicide, lovesick or not, damned you to hell; he didn't like damning Juliet (and himself, for that matter) further through his words. She deserved the peace of whatever death Arthur could imagine.

"She's at rest," he said instead. "And it has, in its way. For now."

A tiny smile. "In a few years I get to go home and try to keep things that way."