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A vision of the cottage resurfaces in my mind. That dream I secretly carry about thick stone walls, a thriving garden, maybe a few goats, and some chickens scratching in the dirt. Most important is waking up in the same bed every morning with someone warm beside me.

Surviving against the Knight was a miracle. If I could pull that off, why not a farm?

Not just someday in some distant future after I’ve proven myself or made amends or done enough good to balance the scales for Blackwood Valley. Now. I could have it now.

If I just reach out and take it.

Esme crashes into me. My ribs scream, the broken ones grinding in ways that make black spots bloom across my vision. I catch her anyway, dragging her against me despite the pain.

Then her lips find mine, her hands go to my hair, and her nails scrape my scalp.

I kiss her back, letting go of the past so I can cling to this new future I fought for. My hand fists in her hair. The other, holding the Everhand, digs into her back, clinging to her like she might disappear if I don’t grip tightly enough.

Esme tastes like life, hope, and sunshine, everything good I’ve ever wanted and never let myself have. Everything a farm needs to ripen.

The crowd goes insane. The roar doubles, triples, becomes something physical that vibrates the air. Someone shouts about the champion and his squire, and laughter ripples through the stands.

I don’t care.

Fuck the darkness. I’ll find a way to lock it down and keep her safe. I won’t lose someone else because of what I am.

Esme is mine.

She’s mine. I’m hers. Everything else can burn.

When we finally break apart, her smile is wide enough to crack her face. “You’re alive. You actually won against the Onyx Knight.”

There’s no reason to tell her what he said before he left. She’d only worry. And I’m not borrowing any more problems. “Barely. Pretty sure I’m held together with spite and stubbornness at this point.”

Her laugh is a little wild. “Those have always been your best qualities.”

I love you. The words form behind my teeth, but I keep my mouth shut. Now, in front of all these people, isn’t the time to tell her. This confession can wait until later, when we’re alone.

I’ll destroy us both. Even when I dreamed about finding a happy ending and a woman to love, deep down I knew it would never happen. I already have the most I can hope for…good friends and an important position in the military, serving a king and queen I believe in.

But I don’t care about our assured doom, either, not with Esme in my arms.

I offer her the Everhand, the one she’s been so desperate for these last few weeks.

She doesn’t take it. Her eyes never leave mine as she tugs on my hand. “Come with me. They’ve given us a room in the palace for tonight. Real beds. Real baths. Not sand and tent canvas.”

A room. Privacy. Her and me and no one else. And just like that, I don’t feel quite so tired. “Lead the way.”

Her fingers lace through mine, pulling me toward the palace entrance. The crowd parts around us. People call out congratulations. Hands clap me on the shoulder. I clutch the Everhand in my other hand and forget about how it pulses warmth.

I trail Esme through corridors I don’t bother memorizing, past guards, and up the stairs.

I’d follow this woman anywhere.

Esme throws the doors of our new quarters open for us, revealing a huge room with a bed large enough for three people and covered in blankets that look soft enough to drown in. Three windows, covered with heavy curtains, sit in the middle of the far wall.

I register all of it in the space between heartbeats, a tactical assessment performed reflexively. I then proceed to forget every detail when Esme beams at me with a beatific smile.

Her palms land on my chest and slide up to my shoulders.

I toss the Everhand on the bed so I can grab her waist and drag her closer until there’s no distance between us. I kiss her more fiercely this time, not caring that my lips are gritty with sand and blood.

Esme gasps against my mouth. She’s tugging me toward the bed when the door swings open, and I spin, instinct overriding thought. The Everhand has already been stolen once. I won’t let that happen again. My hand drops to my belt, grabbing for a sword that’s not there. It was so wrecked after slicing through the Knight’s neck that I left it behind.