He forced his eyes open, found Tristan, and whispered, “Guards?”
“I’ve doubled the amount of time the patrols spend looking inward and put men on the roof. Val has gone to coordinate new patrol routes and all staff has been called to an emergency meeting in an hour. We found the weapons he’d hidden in the gardener’s shed. As far as we can tell, no one’s been in there, except Dornar, since the gardens were flooded.”
Lucy curled up on the pillow next to him, still holding his hand as she murmured, “Thank you, Tristan.”
Tristan nodded gravely. “It should never have happened. Please accept our deepest apologies, Your Majesty. If you feel, ah, if you would prefer a different Supreme Commander, I can help you find—”
“I’ve asked you several times to call me Lucilla,” Lucy replied. “And no, I don’t want a different commander.”
Tristan bowed his head. “Thank you.”
Mathos allowed himself an exhausted huff and opened his heavy eyes, just enough to focus on his friend. “Thank you, Tristan. For everything.”
Tristan gave him a long, tired look, and then nodded. He turned to Lucy. “I’ve put three guards outside your door, and, obviously, my second-in-command is in here with you, even if he’s not at his best right now.”
His beast stirred tiredly in grateful relief. Tristan had forgiven him.
His old friend gave him another look as he opened the door to let himself out. “Next time you want some food, fucking send someone else to get it.”
Lucy laughed, but Mathos just groaned. Laughing hurt.
He gritted his teeth and lifted the arm on his good side so that she could crawl underneath it and rest her head softly on his chest. She cuddled against him for long moments as he let his hazy thoughts drift.
He was almost asleep when he heard her broken voice whispering, “I thought I was going to lose you.”
He tightened his arm. Gods. He had never imagined this life. Had never imagined finding someone so precious to him, so essential, that his own vulnerability, his own pain, was of no consequence.
“I thought I was going to lose you too,” he admitted, pressing his lips to her hair. “Never again, okay? We’re in this together now. Forever.”
He could feel her smiling against his chest as she replied, “Yes, together. For all of it.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lucilla strode through the palace,Matt beside her.
The great hall was filled with bunting and silver-painted winter boughs and bright berries. It had been cleaned and polished, tapestries aired and ancient art rehung, ready for her coronation the next day.
Household staff and Blue Guards nodded as they passed. Although she still got occasional strange looks, they were growing accustomed to her chosen uniform of breeches, knee-high boots, soft leather bodice, and dark blue tunic embroidered with the royal fighting boars.
At some point, she would change the royal crest to the boars facing forward together, no longer fighting, but partners. Embodying the values they were striving to build within her new court: honor, courage, and perseverance. But she was leaving it as it was for the moment, keeping some stability among the sea of changes.
She glanced sideways at Matt—Baron Mathos now—the rock of support that she was building her new home on.
After days of constant care by Rafe and Haniel, fighting back the fever that had followed his stabbing, and regular healings of his wound, he was finally back on his feet. Keeping her amused with his usual disregard for authority and dirty jokes.
And wherever he went, he kept her small treasure in a pouch against his skin. The first day she’d seen it, he’d wrapped his arms around her and told her that he was holding it for her. That if she ever needed an escape, he would be ready to run with her.
Gods. How did he always know exactly what to say?
What he didn’t know, what she hadn’t yet told him, however, was that she had invited his family as special guests to attend the coronation. It was going to be a surprise. Damn, she hoped it went okay; it was going to be bloody awkward if it didn’t.
At least Alanna, Nim, and Keely would be there to help her fix it if it all went horribly wrong. That’s why she needed to bring them together now, before Alanna and Val traveled north to finally ratify the treaty, taking Keely with them.
Thank the gods they would only be gone for a few weeks. She needed her new friends.
They arrived at the stables, making their way through the buzz of activity as carpenters, bricklayers, and builders surveyed the nearby barracks. Tristan and Val had been so inspired by the Nephilim barracks that they had wanted to make a few changes, and Lucilla had agreed. It was a good way to start fresh. To clear out the bad and begin again.
If they managed to get the treaty signed in time, they might even drain the moat and look at restoring the gardens in the spring.
