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The war might be over—or soon would be—but the army wasn’t just going to release them overnight.

“Yes.” Merrik heaved a sigh, as if he wasn’t looking forward to the wait. “After that, I will stay in the Flying Corps for a year or two until Fieran decides he is ready to move on to something else. I could see the two of us transferring to a reserve unit and going back to working at the AMPC.”

“I will probably have to do that too.” She couldn’t hide the despairing note in her tone this time.

“I do not think the AMPC will be as boring as you remember.” Merrik’s laugh rumbled beneath her ear. “I suspect Pip will work there once the war is over, and she is going to bring a new magic and fresh perspective to the inventions.”

“That’s true.” It would be different, working with Pip. And Adry would no longer spend her days in an agony of pretending she wasn’t falling hopelessly in love with Merrik.

Still, it wasn’t going to satisfy the burn of her magic. It hadn’t before.

“And you will remain in the elven reserves under your dacha.” Merrik traced a bandaged hand down her arm until his fingers rested over hers. “Your dacha always had numerous times when he was called away for war games or army training, even during peace. You will be able to take some of those duties on, leaving your dacha more free to spend time raising Ellie and Tryndar.”

The mention of her youngest siblings brought a smile. Dacha would gladly take a step back to focus on them.

And Merrik was right—unsurprisingly. She could take on some of her dacha’s duties as Laesornysh. There would always be another Escarlish unit needing to be trained on how to fight alongside a Laesornysh. New artillery shells that needed to be tested against Laesornysh magic. Elven warriors who needed to keep their skills sharp. The Alliance might soon be at peace, but readiness for war never ended.

She would have outlets for her magic that she hadn’t had before. Between the new inventions that Pip was sure to create and taking on the duties of a Laesornysh warrior, she wouldn’t be as bored and purposeless as she’d been before.

And there would be Merrik. Their families, both the ones they had now and the one they would create together. Life would be full.

She interlaced her fingers with his as best she could with the bandages. “What do you want for the future?”

“I want children.” He murmured the words softly, as if he wasn’t sure if he should admit that so boldly.

“Of course.” She hadn’t need him to say it to know. He would make a great dacha. “Lots of children. Who will grow up being best of friends with their cousins.”

“The Loiatir-Laesornysh-Detmuk broods are going to be terrors.” Merrik chuckled into her hair. “The world is not going to survive.”

“It survived me and Fieran. I think it will survive our children.” She tilted her head to peer up at him. “What else?”

His soft smile curved with an expression she couldn’t quite read. “I am not like you and Fieran. I am not driven to seek some glorious purpose for myself. All I want is a wife to stand and fight at my side as I fight and stand by hers, a family to love and care for, and something to keep my hands busy. If that means working at the AMPC alongside you, Fieran, and Pip, then that is what I want. If I stay home with our children while you are at some war training or other, then fine by me. If, eventually, I have the chance to volunteer with the Warrior Foundation, then all the better. I do not desire anything besides a good life.”

“That’s a good future. A good life.” She closed her eyes and snuggled against his shoulder again. “I like it.”

“Good.” His breath brushed against her hair again.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed—she might have even dozed—before a light knock sounded on the door. She peeled her eyes open as it creaked the rest of the way open, though she didn’t have the time or energy to push away from her snuggling position against Merrik.

Uncle Iyrinder stood in the doorway, taking in her and Merrik at a glance. A smile eased the grooves lining his face, though his eyebrows raised. “You are awake. How do you feel?”

“Still tired.” She shot a look at Merrik as she pushed away from him. “And annoyed that someone was so reckless. I hope you gave him a good lecture about that.”

“Something like that.” Uncle Iyrinder and Merrik shared a look. Based on the hints of smiles curving their mouths, that parental lecture hadn’t been all that stern and lecturing, even if she couldn’t guess what might have been said in that case. There was something in the way that Uncle Iyrinder cut his eyes at her and Merrik’s grin tipped wryly that told her there was more the two of them weren’t saying.

After a moment, Uncle Iyrinder faced her again. “Word was passed through communication channels that your dacha, Fieran, your uncle Edmund, and Pippak were retrieved by the Alliance Navy. They are all exhausted and somewhat the worse for wear, but nothing that rest, a good meal, and a healer will not fix.”

Adry released a long breath, a tight knot deep inside her chest easing for the first time since they’d left two weeks ago. Beside her, Merrik heaved a similar breath of relief, the set of his shoulders relaxing.

She didn’t have to ask if they had accomplished their mission. She’d unleashed her magic right alongside them, and she’d sensed how far that combined magic had stretched. Mongavaria didn’t have enough weapons within its borders to make war on mice right now.

“Any word on a surrender?” Merrik’s arms, still loosely around her waist, tightened.

“Not yet.” Uncle Iyrinder shook his head. “It could be some time before word of the official surrender reaches us.”

Merrik nodded, and Adry heaved a sigh, this one more resigned than relieved. She shouldn’t have expected anything else. Any communication from the warships stationed in the ocean had to be relayed through the various airships on station scouting over Mongavaria. From there, any surrender terms would be passed along to the various kings for approval. Only once everything had been settled and ratified by the necessary government bodies would the news be officially announced to the rest of the army.

“But orders have come to hold our position and otherwise stand down unless attacked.” Uncle Iyrinder rolled his shoulders in a faint, elven shrug at that.