Perhaps it was for the best, really. It had seemed wrong to say anything when the little dragonet had been so very little. Then when she'd almost felt ready to speak her hearts, she'd been badly wounded during Threadfall and was thus unable to. It had never seemed like quite the right time. Never right.
And maybe that was just it. Maybe it hadn't been right. Certainly it was clear that when all was said and done, this just wasn't meant to be. Soft hearted as the young gold was, she could see the love between all parties. It was as plain as day. She could not deny it. If it hurt that only meant that her own hearts had been true, but they must now change. She would never be one to try to shove herself where she wasn't wanted.
Even if it meant playing pretend. In the wake of it all, with Khamaith's Flight taking place back at the Weyr, Zultoloth mourned for a love that had truly never been. So many things that she might have said, she left behind. Burying the feelings, she pointedly ignored her rider's form, curled up beside ... another. That reminder didn't help. But it would be all right. Even if it took time. Eventually it would be all right.