love you, Con, with everything in Me—but I am Calanthe and She is Me. I cannot separate the two.”
“I don’t want you to,” I told her, lifting her hand and kissing her delicate fingers. “But you can travel some … to the other kingdoms?”
“Yes, and I will have to. I can awaken the inherent spirit of any land, connect it to the rightful blood again, as I did with Agatha and Yekpehr.”
“Can you—” The sharp hope caught in my throat, and I had to clear it. “Can you restore Oriel?”
“Yes.” She laid a hand on my cheek. “We’ll go to Oriel first and I’ll return your throne to you.”
I turned my face and kissed her palm. “Not to me. To Rhéiane.”
“Con, you don’t know that—”
“I’m going to find out,” I said. “If Rhéiane can’t rule, then I’ll find a regent. We’ll go to Oriel, but on our honeymoon.” I laid a hand over her flat belly, the jewels an edged contrast to the soft heat of her body. “I want to be a father to my child, a husband to you. On Calanthe. Lia, will you marry me?”
I’d flustered her, and she searched for words. For once I wasn’t glad to have gotten the advantage of her, I was so impatient for her reply. “Con—”
“Sails ho!” Percy called.
“Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds,” Sondra added, “but the Emperor’s Pet lies ahead.”
I got up and gave a hand to Lia. “We’ll discuss this more.”
“Yes,” she muttered ungraciously. “We certainly will.”
* * *
We took the skiff to the Emperor’s Pet, everyone crowding the decks at the sight of us. Kara bent over the rail, hauling me up and into a back-pounding embrace. Then he grasped my shoulders and grinned at me, the rare joy in it nearly splitting his sere, dark face. “You did it.”
“Lia did it,” I corrected, helping her onto the deck.
“We did it,” Lia corrected, a wide smile on her face. “All of us.”
Percy followed up the ladder, then Sondra, carrying Vesno over one shoulder. Brenda grinned and waved, her arm linked through another woman’s with the same jawline. Looked like she’d found one of her Derten relations. I waved back, giving her a gesture of congratulations. Lia nudged my arm, pointing me at the dark-haired woman approaching.
White wings striped her black hair from the temples, but even without having looked at her portrait, I would have known her anywhere. I could lay the fears that I’d forgotten her to rest. “Rhéiane,” I breathed, my voice hoarse and lungs tight—though, under the clearing blue skies, not from vurgsten.
She flung herself into my arms, and I held her, careful of her birdlike bones. Tall as me, but so thin. Tears clogged my throat as she leaned back to frame my face with her hands. “Little Conrí,” she said, tears streaming freely down her face. “Look at you. You’re taller than Father was. Wider in the shoulder, too.”
That’s what Mother said, I thought but didn’t say aloud. I hoped they were watching as she’d said. “Rhéiane, I am so sorry that—”
She stopped me, eyes so large in her lined face. “No apologies.” Then she smiled. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat, then released her and held out a hand to Lia. She floated to me, a vision of sparkling jewels, shining like the sea.
“Rhéiane, this is my wife, Lia. Queen Euthalia of Calanthe.”
“Your wife?” Rhéiane looked at Lia, taking in her ostentatious costume, then focusing on her mismatched eyes and extraordinary blossoming hair. Then Rhéiane looked at me, her expression full of wonder. “Con.… she’s like the girl in that book we read—remember? The flower fairy princess.”
“I do remember.” I nodded. “I forgot a lot of things over the years, but I remember you reading that book to me, showing me that illustration.”
Rhéiane gave me an odd half smile. “You said you were going to marry a girl like that someday.”
That halted me. “I did?”
“Yes,” Rhéiane breathed. “It’s just like magic.”
“Not just like it,” I corrected, “it is magic.”
“Where are my manners?” Rhéiane took Lia’s proffered hands and held them as she gazed at her, then she curtsied deeply. “It’s beyond wonderful to meet You, Your Highness.”
“Likewise,” Lia replied. “We’re relieved to find you again. You’re all Con has thought of, once we knew you were alive.”
“Thank You, Your Highness,” Rhéiane replied gravely, “for freeing us.”
Lia extracted her hands and patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll let you two talk alone.”
We watched her stroll over to Brenda, the