“Well, see you around, kid,” she says, turning on her heel to leave.
“Wait,” I rush out. She halts, peering back at me. “Is this it, or will I see you again?”
Marlowe smiles. “Are you going to miss?—”
She doesn’t finish. I cross the room and pull her into a hug, the scent of her leather jacket filling my nostrils with a familiar comfort. “Be safe,” I tell her, and I mean it. “Stay out of trouble. My influence only travels so far.”
She laughs. “Good thing you have friends in high places.”
Yeah. Good thing.
Another guest’ssticky lips brush against my flushed cheek as they congratulate me, commending me for achieving what many thought impossible—opening Corona’s first Lunar Witch reentry facility. Their attention quickly shifts to Chiara Dunn, who stands beside me, radiant in an off-the-shoulder forest green gown. The guest shakes her hand next, expressing awe at her remarkable feat of finding the cure for vampirism in record time.
The repurposed warehouse, now a halfway house, feels alive with celebration. As I stand in the makeshift recreational room hosting this lively part, I take a moment to reflect on our accomplishments these last few months.
A band plays energetic tunes amidst the industrial-chic decor of exposed brick and polished concrete, their melodies pulsing through the vast space. Guests mingle, engaging in lively conversations while enjoying appetizers, while others dance to the infectious rhythms. Laughter and chatter blend with the music, transforming the once-gloomy atmosphere of the former auto parts warehouse has transformed into a vibrant celebration. The energy perfectly embodies the halfway house’s mission: Fostering community and joy in those transitioning back into society.
“Thank you for being here,” Chiara acknowledges her admirer’s praise. “I could not have done it without the Crown and Council’s support and my daughter, Desiree.”
I raise my brow. Where is Desi? She should stand beside her mom to bask in this momentous achievement. Her absence is notable, as is the mysterious disappearance of her date.
As I glance around for her, my reflection catches my eye in one of the freshly scrubbed windows. The crown atop my head sparkles, and I adjust it to sit straighter.
A year ago, I lived in constant fear, dreading the possibility of being killed or locked away in an asylum simply for being a Lunar Witch. However, everything changed when I found the courage to defy my family and reveal the truth about the War Letters.
The irony of the situation is not lost on me. The very people who once sought to silence me now celebrate my achievements. I’ve fought tooth and nail to get here, and the recognition I’m receiving feels like a hard-earned victory.
“You seem distracted,” Janus whispers to me. She stands on my other side, wearing a white dress that makes her long, dark hair appear even darker, like an impenetrable void. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
I offer Janus a brief smile, acknowledging the progress we’ve made in our working relationship for the sake of the realm. Our relationship has improved even though she abandoned me in Aurora to deal with Zeus and Alden’s invasion alone. She and the Council had prioritized protecting the capital, even at the cost of Aurora. I’ve admitted that their decision to vote me out was partially my fault since I kept secrets and suspected them of foul play. Janus and the others were focused on preventing the rest of the country from falling prey to the wolves. I understand their reasoning, even though their abandonment still stings.
After returning from Aurora, Janus, the Council, and I worked to repair the fragile trust between us. Forces will always try to divide us, but to avoid another invasion, we need to work together.
Ultimately, I secured peace for our nation again by placing my faith in Alden—someone I never expected to become my friend. I received his wedding invitation last week, which confirms I made the right choice by trusting him that day on the Charon Bridge. Thanks to Desiree, Alden and Tanith were reunited, and now Lua and Corona are allies once more.
“We’ve been standing here for hours,” I whisper to Janus as I wiggle my numb toes. She smiles and lifts the long hem of her dress to reveal her practical shoes.
“Tricks of the trade, Your Majesty.” She glances at my heels and compliments my gossamer silver, strapless dress. My outfit is a nod to the Nebula. Several months ago, I motioned again to disband the Labor Laws. To further solidify this, I passed a law prohibiting hospitals from branding newborns based on faction affiliation.
Both supporters and resistors have responded to my efforts to create a more unified and equal society, but I remain committed to my vision.
“Have you seen Wilder?” I ask the women on either side of me.
Chiara’s motherly smile prompts me to scan the crowd for my own mother. I spot her chatting with Keris Telfour, a few other councilors, and my grandmother. My mother is a vision in ambrosia pink, adorned with multiple strings of pearls around her neck and woven into her blonde hair.
She must sense my gaze because she meets my eyes, offering a smile and a thumbs-up. A laugh bubbles out of me; the casual expression is surprising for her. Still, it’s a sign that she has begun engaging with the world again after revealing the truthabout her past with Don and the lies she and my father crafted to protect Fynn.
Your mother is stunning,my father’s ghost whispers.
“She is,” I whisper back.
The people and I have forgiven her, yet gossip columns continue to exploit her distress. They even spread false rumors that Mother secretly visits Don in prison. We did go together once, though. I remember maintaining civility with Warden Grey while Mother and Don spoke privately, seeking closure. Grey had been glaring at me; resentment still simmered beneath his professional veneer, even if it had lessened over time. Honestly, it didn’t bother me much.
Warden Grey and his wife, Edith, are at the buffet, heaping food onto their plates. It’s as if they are trying to fill the hole caused by Bennett’s absence. He’d relinquished his Council seat just minutes after we returned from Aurora, triggering a special election. Stellan revealed that Bennett’s parents’ boating “accident” wasn’t accidental at all. Someone had intentionally harmed them. That’s when Bennett vowed to uncover the truth. I received his postcard several months ago but haven’t heard from him since.
Corvina has also fled, admitting herself to Psyche Psychiatric to cope with Fynn’s rejection and his subsequent death.
“I think he is on the dance floor with your cousin,” Chiara says. Just then, an attendant approaches us with refreshments. Each councilor takes a drink, as does Janus, who seems preoccupied with Daphne across the room. Daphne, her hand resting protectively on her very pregnant belly, is engaged in a friendly conversation with Gianna and Stellan Navis, smiling as she speaks.
