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“Eavesdropping?” Sterling glares, but there’s no bite to his words. Just the opposite, actually. His voice warms with affection for his oldest friend.

“Call it ‘tactical information gathering.’” Agnar winks. “Besides, you two are the least subtle pair in all of Tirene. You practically broadcast your conversations to the entire kingdom.”

Before I can retort, more figures approach.

Leesa rests one hand over her abdomen protectively. The other clutches her phoenix sword. Bastian, as always, stands beside her, his hazel eyes watchful as they roam the crowd. Helene joins us, her glossy black braid unraveling in a rare show of vulnerability. Upon his arrival, Rafe lifts his pointed chin in his usual arrogant fashion.

And behind them, more come.

The butcher whose cleaver had proven useless against divine hide but who had fought anyway. A noblewoman with a torn silk gown and determined eyes. A palace guard with a broken arm who had continued defending civilians one-handed. The merchant who had transformed his food cart, brought to make money selling to the audience from the safety of the stands, into a barricade.

So many faces, all bearing the marks of battle, all alive when they shouldn’t be.

My throat tightens with an emotion I can’t quite name.

Pride, perhaps. Or gratitude. Or maybe it’s simpler than that. The pure, uncomplicated joy of not being alone in this strange new world we’ve created.

Without warning, Sterling releases my hand and takes three quick strides toward Agnar. He grabs his friend by the shoulders and yanks him into a fierce soldier’s embrace. Agnar freezes for a heartbeat before returning the gesture, hands slapping Sterling’s back.

Tears stream down Leesa’s cheeks as she starts to giggle. Bastian pulls her close before drawing me into a group hug. Leesa grabs my hand, and I rest my head on my brother’s chest, reveling in the warmth of family.

“Love you, my brother, but whatever you do,” Agnar’s voice is muffled against Sterling’s shoulder, “please don’t kiss me.”

Sterling’s laugh is rusty but genuine. “When you learn how to train a hunting hawk properly, I’ll kiss you.”

Agnar draws back entirely, his expression morphing into exaggerated outrage. “I trained hawks when I was eight years old.”

“Yes.” Sterling nods, his voice dry as desert sand. “Poorly.”

“Oh. My. Gods.” Agnar flings his hands up. “When did you become a master hawker?”

“Don’t need to be a master to be better than you.” Sterling tosses a grin my way. Despite everything, my heart flutters. The familiar banter sounds so normal, so wonderfully ordinary amidst the extraordinary circumstances, that I can’t help but smile back.

Ordinary sounds absolutely perfect right about now.

Chapter Sixty-Two

Dawn breaks over Tirene in ribbons of gold and amber, catching on the palace spires like fire. The day is far from ordinary.

We never considered how badly our race to sneak everyone out of the palace, so they’d be ready to flee to the far reaches of the world if necessary, would affect our ability to hold today’s scheduled coronation.

Rhiann is helping Lark ready the throne room and work on her speech. I stand before the full-length mirror in our bedchamber, dragging a finger over the faint pink scar on my forehead from the battle. Getting used to healing overnight will take some time.

I try not to fidget as three attendants fuss over the final adjustments to my formal attire.

The fabric is heavier than anything I’ve worn before. The deep blue silk embroidered with silver thread matches my wings and trousers and is lined with enough official symbols to make a military uniform look understated.

My hands may be steady, but my stomach knots with a strange mix of anticipation and disbelief.

In three hours, I’ll be crowned King of Tirene, tasked with reigning over my kingdom beside Lark.

Me.

The younger son. The soldier who once slept in tents and barracks and ate whatever was slopped onto a tin plate. The prince who posed as an instructor to gain a young woman’s trust, kidnapped her, and later married her.

I think I started falling for Lark that first day she smacked into me at Flighthaven. And I’ve fallen harder, more deeply in love with her, every second of every day after that.

That incredible woman.