“Deren,” he said, clutching his mother’s skirts.
“Well, Deren, our city is looking wonderful today. And you look very handsome. I’m especially fond of that tunic.”
He beamed, tugged on the collar, and leaned toward her like he wanted to come closer, but wasn’t sure if he should.
She opened her arms without hesitation. “Would a hug be all right?”
He darted forward, wrapping his arms around her neck, and something inside my chest shift in a way I didn’t have a name for. When he stepped back, Reyla rose, her eyes bright.
“You're going to be an incredible mother,” I said quietly.
She glanced up at me, eyes soft. “We're going to be incredible parents.”
I tried not to think about whether I'd live to see our own child this happy.
The woman turned to me. “There’s a new mural in the Hall of Names,” she said. “Of you two during the attack. Battling with swords and showing your bravery. I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but we all contributed a bit to make it happen. As a thank you.”
More townsfolk had begun to drift our way in a gentle ripple. A pair of older men tipped their hats. A girl with sun-bleached curls offered Reyla a small bunch of wildflowers she might have picked herself. Reyla sniffed them, her eyes sparkling with tears.
An old woman with a crooked spine tapped my arm. “Evergorne’s not just standing. She’s alive again.”
“She’s in all our hearts,” I said.
“She is, my king. She is.”
Reyla took the woman’s hand and squeezed it. “She needed time, and so did we.”
She looked at us with respect, the kind that said: You were here when our world cracked, and you're still here as it heals.
We weren't just their rulers. We were part of them. That meant more than any crown ever could.
We reached the marketplace and took a right, aiming for the pier.
We hadn’t made it much farther before a voice called out from the edge of the square.
“Your Majesty—uh—Reyla! “
Wildfire paused, turning with a faint smile that widened the moment she recognized the speaker. The girl from the village, Missy, wove through the trickle of townsfolk with a basket hooked over one arm and confidence in every step, her brown hair shining in the sunlight. Dust clung to her boots and the hem of her skirts, but her eyes were bright and unshaken.
“Missy,” Reyla breathed, stepping forward before the girl could even reach us.
The two of them hugged, and both of them were grinning.
“I hoped you’d come to town soon,” Missy said, pulling back. “You brought the king with you.” Her gaze slanted my way.
“Yes, he tends to follow me around like a nyxin,” Reyla said.
I laughed, inclining my head. “I take orders better than I let on. When they come from my queen, anyway.”
Missy’s expression softened as she looked between us. “I never forgot what you did. You trusted me when no one else had. That night I thought you were mad, asking me to take charge like that, but…” She shrugged, eyes glinting. “It helped me figure out who I wanted to be.”
“You already were that person,” Reyla said, stroking her arm.
Missy looked down at her basket, then opened the cloth over it to reveal small bundles wrapped in leaves and twine. Herbs, I guessed, from the scent. “I’m apprenticing with Marel now, the healer. My grandmother…she’s raising me. She set it up. I’m not just mixing poultices but learning where everything grows, how to gather them properly. Do you think that counts as helping rebuild?”
Reyla beamed. “That counts as leading the way.”
Missy lingered with us. “If you ever need a simple healing, remember me.”
