“Weallsaw this coming,” Annis added, shaking her head. “The moment you insisted he travel south with us, it was clear.”
Lara swept her gaze over their faces. “And you all disapprove?”
A brittle silence settled around the hearth.
“I don’t,” Eithne shattered the tension with a warm smile. “I think you’re perfect together.”
“As do I,” Duana agreed as she flipped oatcakes.
No one else ventured a comment.
Taking a sip of broth, Lara sighed. “Alar will return to Duncrag and co-rule with me as prince regent.”
Cailean gave a slow nod before his attention shifted to Alar. “I’ll be watching you, Half-blood.” His voice was low, yet with an edge she recognized.
Alar inclined his head, acknowledging the threat.
Tension rippled over the circle. Silence stretched out as the hearth crackled. Duana began dishing out oatcakes onto wooden trenchers.
Reaching out, Lara took Alar’s hand, lacing her fingers through his. He squeezed gently.
“I’d expect nothing less of you, Cailean,” she replied, her lips curving. Her gaze then traveled over their faces, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “Fromanyof you.”
She drew a breath then, inhaling woodsmoke and feeling Alar’s steady presence beside her. “You’ve kept me alive through impossible odds. You’ve followed me into the darkness. Your loyalty has never wavered … even when mine did.” Her throat tightened. “So, aye, hold him answerable. Hold usbothaccountable. That’s what family does.”
The word hung in the air between them—family.
Not advisors or even friends. She meant it too.
Slowly, Bree’s shoulders lowered. Annis bowed her head, while Ren blinked, her eyes glistening. Even Cailean and Roth’s expressions softened. And as the moments slid by, a small smile tugged at the chief-enforcer’s lips.
Outside, a goat bleated, and somewhere in the distance, a bairn wailed. Life, with all its beauty, messiness, and uncertainty. They’d face whatever came next, the way they’d faced everything else—battle-weary yet stubborn.
Standing together.
Lara lifted her cup of broth toward them, smiling back at them. “To second chances,” she said softly.
A pause followed, and then, one by one, they raised their cups in answer.
EPILOGUE: SHADOWS AND SUNLIGHT
Duncrag,
The Realm of Albia
Five turns of the moon later …
“ARE YOU READY?”
Staring down at the unraveled parchment before him, Alar nodded. Even so, nervousness fluttered to life in his gut. Ridiculous really. He could face down the Slew—but reading a poem made him falter.
Upon returning to Duncrag with Lara, one of the first things he did was learn how to read. He hadn’t done so out of shame or even embarrassment that he didn’t know his letters. Instead, curiosity had driven him to ask Gil for lessons.
A mountain of scrolls existed in the High Queen’s archives, knowledge he’d never access—unless he asked someone to read them to him. He didn’t want that. He wished to immerse himself in history and knowledge, to learn about the past.
“Go on then.” Gil’s tone, often laced with impatience, was gentle this morning. After many moons of painstaking lessons, of fumbled sentences and writing that looked as if a bairn had scrawled it, Alar had reached this point. It was an important day for them both. Usually, the two apprentices Gil had recently taken on worked alongside him in the archives, but this morning, he’d sent them away. His student needed privacy.
Clearing his throat, Alar began to read.
