“Are you sure you’re not tired?” I asked, half-smiling. “You were up with her half the night.”
“I’m fine,” she said, waving me off. “You’re the one carrying a sleeping baby through the gardens like a sun-drenched goddess.”
I laughed quietly, careful not to wake Zara. “She insisted.”
“Of course she did,” Thalia said, brushing a hand over her daughter’s curls. “She has excellent taste.”
We turned a bend where the pathway opened into a small orchard, and the boys were already there, Kaelric and Vaelen deep in some sort of battle involving sticks, rocks, and complicated rules only they seemed to understand. Kaelric shouted something about dragons. Vaelen roared and leapt behind a tree.
Thalia sighed fondly. “Boys.”
“They’re perfect,” I said.
“They’re loud,” she replied, but I saw the soft curve of her smile.
I adjusted Zara in my arms and watched them. Watched the way sunlight danced in their hair, the way their bare feet slapped against the stones, the way Thalia’s eyes never quite left them.
This was what I’d dreamed of. Not the palace. Not the titles. Not the past.
This.
The quiet. The laughter. The second chance I’d never dared hope for.
And even if the gods never returned the rest of my memories, even if the past stayed blurred and broken, I had this.
"There you are." Mallack joined us, kissing Thalia on the cheek and ruffling the boys’ hair, before he leaned in close to me. "I missed you."
"I missed you too," I admitted. It was the simple truth. I had missed him ever since he was summoned to Myccael that morning and I had come to be with my daughter. Gods, that word. How I loved it.
"And this little vissy, too." Mallack leaned over and gently brushed his lips on top of the sleeping baby's forehead.
“What are you males up to?” Thalia demanded, tilting her head and pushing out her chin in the way I’d come to recognize over the past weeks. My daughter, battle-ready in a garden full of flowers.
“I think you’d better talk to your mate about that,” Mallack said far too casually.
Unsuccessfully, of course. Thalia’s gaze locked onto him like a storm cloud choosing where to strike—one thoroughly unimpressed. “That’s not how this works.”
Mallack raised both hands in mock surrender, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away. He was enjoying this far too much.
“You’re right,” he said with a sigh, scrubbing the back of his neck. “Youshouldhear it from your mate. But the coward handed the job off to Myccael.”
Thalia blinked. “Hear what?”
Mallack gave a dramatic little grunt. “That he—Darryck—has been put in charge of the campaign. The one against the Eulachs and the remaining Renegades.”
Her brows rose. Surprise flickered before she drew her composure like a blade. “Myccael ordered it?”
Mallack shifted from one foot to the other, which was frankly ridiculous to see on a man who had stared down warlords without blinking. “Well,” he muttered, “heisthe susserayn. Said no one else had the right balance of experience and brutality. I took great offense, of course. But then again… hedidhave a point.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. The game was obvious now; he was stirring the pot and enjoying the simmer.
Thalia didn’t rise to it. Her mouth tightened, her arms folded neatly across her chest. “Darryck should have told me.”
I smiled. Proud. My daughter, refusing the bait.
“I told him that,” Mallack said quickly, far too pleased with himself. “Told both of them it was a stupid plan. Idiotic, really. I even offered to deliver the news myself, but Darryck insisted. Said he’d rather face you angry than risk me spinning it.”
I slapped his arm. “Which youjustdid.”
