"He will die when I get to Veynar, if Sevrin has not done it already. But not carelessly. The documents we made the baron sign gave me his coffers, but his title and legacy will still pass to Mysin. There may still be political consequences."
"I do not care," Colsar says. "He must die."
I nod. "He must."
"And Yvara?"
"She knew." The words come simply. "Her kindness that day was a performance and I knew it and believed it anyway." I look at him. "I do not know yet if I will kill her. But I will take the thing she wants most."
He holds my eyes. "The throne."
"The throne," I agree.
"If we return," I add, quieter now, "it will not be to survive it again. It will be to control it. But not blindly. We give them something they cannot argue with first."
He watches me. "What are you suggesting?"
"We have Kiss named heir. Now. While Sevrin still holds it. Something that stabilizes the line before we ever touch the throne."
Silence, but it is not resistance. It is calculation.
"You think he would agree to that?"
"No. I think we make it so that refusing costs him more than accepting."
"And when I take the throne?"
"You rule. She remains the future they cannot dispute. It strengthens your claim, especially where Morrath is concerned. She is a feeder. Her brother inherits Shalvar. Her place was always meant to be in Veynar.”
"They will say she has too many ties to other kingdoms."
“Then we answer it.” My hand rests against his chest. “I bear the mark of Forizan. We produced two heirs in less than a year. Sevrin has no heir, and his ability to father one is questionable. Your father may have legitimized him, but the fact remains he was born illegitimate and only sits the throne because you have allowed it. As for Teorin, not only is he illegitimate, but he comes from an enemy bloodline and has never been formally acknowledged by the Rathmor court.”
Silence stretches between us, but it is no longer uncertain.
Then, "Yes."
It is decided.
I study him. "Say it."
"What?"
"What we are doing."
A pause. Then, "We will rest. I will stabilize things here in Shalvar. You will recover. And then we take Veynar."
"Yes," I say.
My hand moves from his neck to his jaw and his comes up to meet mine, his thumb brushing lightly across my skin before he leans in. The kiss is slow and deep, and when he pulls back his forehead rests briefly against mine.
"I love you," he says quietly.
"I know," I answer. "I love you too."
Nothing else exists. Only this, and the understanding that when whatever comes next arrives, we will face it together.
Three weeks pass before I stop expecting him to be beside me when I wake.
