I looked for Trew.
He stood with Fern, watching me. I found no judgment in his golden gaze, no, “I told you so.” Just quiet understanding. He’dbrought me here not to shame me, but to show me. To let me see the truth with my own eyes.
This man, this king of rebels and dragons,savedchildren.
He built sanctuaries while my father built funeral pyres.
Everything I thought I knew, every loyalty I’d ever held, burned away in the heat of that single, soul-altering realization. The bond between us wasn’t only attraction or the strange pull of fate. It was this bone-deep recognition of a goodness so profound it humbled me. This man hadn’t stolen my heart with kisses in a garden, but with an act of rebellion so compassionate it had remade my world.
“Isi?” Trew’s voice came out gentle. He didn’t rush me, didn’t demand explanations. He waited while I pieced my shattered world back together.
I looked up at him through my tears, and something settled into place in my chest.
“Thank you.” The words held everything.
His golden eyes softened. “For what?”
“For showing me who I want to be.”
This was love. Not a fleeting thing, but a truth. The kind that reshaped a person from the inside out.
In that moment, on my knees and with a child in my arms, I knew that I would burn for Trew. I would fight for him. I would follow him into any wasteland and face down any army.
I would love him until my last breath.
And long after that.
55
TREW
Ikept my distance, giving Isi a chance to visit with the children. She stayed on her knees, clutching Leo. He was the living, breathing proof of every lie she’d been fed, plus the beautiful, brutal truth of what we were fighting for.
Tearing my gaze away, I turned to the woman beside me. Respect for Fern ran deep in Syllavar; she’d been a friend to my mother, a counselor to my father, and now she was the heart of this sanctuary.
“He’s well cared for, Trewyn,” Fern said, her eyes still on Isi and the boy. “They all are.”
“I never doubted it.” My focus shifted from the tender scene on the grass to my duty. I was their king. Their protector. “What do you need?”
Fern’s gaze met mine. “More bedding, blankets in particular. And the children will need winter clothes. They’re growing so fast.”
“Done. I’ll send seamstresses from the castle along with bolts of fabric and furs.”
My jaw clenched. I wouldn’t let Caldrith Court’s poison touch these children ever again. They were mine now.
Ours.
“And books,” I said, my gaze drifting back to Isi, who was now wiping the tears from Leo’s face, kissing the top of his head. She sat on the ground, and the boy settled on her lap with her arms snug around him. “Toys.”
“Food, too,” Fern said, pulling my attention back to her. “We’re going through the stores faster than I anticipated. The last harvest was good, but with more mouths…”
“I’ll have a convoy of supplies sent from the castle tomorrow and ensure your regular delivery dates are tightened.” The logistics were already forming in my mind. “Grains, smoked meats, root vegetables. And more honey. The children deserve some sweetness.” My gaze returned to Isi, who had gathered other children around her. “Whatever you need, Fern. You have it.”
“You’re a good king, Trewyn. Just like your father.”
I nodded, unable to speak around the lump in my throat as I watched Isi settle Leo more comfortably in her lap. Her tears had dried, leaving a flush on her cheeks, but the soul-deep awe remained in her eyes. It was the look of someone whose world had been fractured and rebuilt into something stronger, truer. A look I knew well.
She began to speak, her voice soft but clear, carrying on the breeze, telling a story of a mischievous star that fell from the sky and had to learn how to shine on the ground. Other children joined them, leaning in, their faces eager, their own little sparks of magic forgotten as they were captured by hers.
