Fennel finds us first. His bray cuts through the quiet like a trumpet as he barrels toward me with all the subtlety of a stampede. He pushes his shaggy head into my chest, rough fur scraping my cheek.
“I’m glad you’re okay too,” I whisper, looping my arms around his neck. He smells like dust and sunlight, grounding in a way that steadies my pulse. I press my face into him and blink hard when my throat tightens. “Thank you for forcing me to be your friend.”
Cinder pads up behind him, tail flicking. She circles Declan once before springing into his lap and curling up like she belongs there.
“My queen.” He kisses the top of her head as his fingers drag slowly through her sleek coat.
I lean into Fennel’s shoulder and watch them together, emotion swelling in my chest.
This unbelievable, magickal place has been hot and horrifying and terrible, but it’s also given us so much—truth, healing, and family in the most unlikely creatures.
Fennel flicks his ears, distracted by the rattle of a grain bucket somewhere within the tall grasses. I kiss his soft nose and inhale his earthy scent one last time before he lumbers off toward the promise of food. Cinder lifts her head, blinks her lemon-yellow eyes up at Declan,then leaps onto Fennel’s back. Together they disappear into the gilded shimmer of dawn that bathes the camp.
Across the expanse of leafy green, I spot Nessa with Romy and Celine. The three of them are huddled together near the edge of a mended tent, skirts streaked with ash, faces smudged, hair coming loose.
“I need to go talk to them.”
Declan follows my gaze and squeezes my hand. “I’ll be right here.”
I approach, and when Nessa sees me, her mouth tightens. Romy hooks her arm around Nessa’s, and Celine shifts, stepping as if to shield her, but I raise my hands.
“I’m here to apologize.” I swallow, my mouth dry. “I failed you. All of you. I told you to manifest and handed you empty affirmations when what you needed was someone to see you. To listen.”
Nessa’s chin trembles, and for a tense minute she doesn’t answer, just stares at me like she’s weighing whether this is another performance. Finally, she exhales.
“I was angry. And scared. But you…you did see us, Amanda. And you listened to what we most desired. You pushed me to reach, even though I did not succeed. While thinking only good thoughts is a bit naive—”
“Yeah”—I shake my head—“that was terrible advice.”
Celine snorts, her ash-streaked arms crossing over her chest. “Useless, more like.”
Romy elbows her. “She’s apologizing.”
Celine softens a fraction, tilting her head.
“You did show me,” Nessa continues, “showuswe could have belief in ourselves and aspire to more than what we are given.”
“Can I—” I open my arms, hesitant, asking without demanding.
Nessa’s smile breaks through the ash and exhaustion, and she barrels into my chest. Romy follows, wrapping her arms around us. Even Celine grudgingly steps forward, muttering under her breath as she burrows into the embrace.
A lump swells in my throat. I pull them all closer. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” I whisper. “I care deeply about each of you. I hope you know that.”
Sniffling fills the space between us. Three heads nod against my shoulders.
“You can do great things. I believe in you.”
Nessa tilts her face up, eyes shining with unshed tears. “And now, we believe in ourselves.”
The embrace lingers, then one by one the girls peel away. Romy tugs Nessa toward the healer’s tent, and Celine mutters something about needing to scrub the ash from her skin. I watch them go, my chest tight but lighter, as if some snarled knot has finally come loose.
My gaze drifts over the lush landscape and rippling waters. The Player is on her knees, tears cutting fresh rivers through the makeup. Around us the caravan hums with a dozen new conversations, but the dais is empty, thrones abandoned in the wake of this remembered world.
Hand in hand, Solara and Zephara pick their way toward me through the lush grasses swaying around their knees.
Solara stops and looks across the verdant landscape at the Tower—at what it was and what it has become—and then her eyes find mine.
“You brought it back.” Her voice is loose with astonishment, wonder, respect. She is no longer a monarch but a woman who has watched the rebirth of a kingdom and now must decide where to go from here.
