The snow was unkind to travelers. Even with the escort Rilion had assigned, Thea’s contingent found progress slow, and winter deepened before they made it across the range to Heartroot.
Most of her escort peeled off there. Some would continue back to Danesse; others would wait for the lone rider who continued into Kentoria beside her.
When they reached the river outside Samara, he departed, too. She hadn’t felt their presence necessary, but the prince had refused to let her go alone. It didn’t matter that she’d learned to fight. She didn’t have her dagger any longer, and though he’d confessed that her combat skill with a pair of scissors was impressive, Rilion was unwilling to take risks.
He had explained the plan for her return before he allowed her to set out. News of what had happened would not pass easily between the kingdoms until spring arrived. For a group of Ranorsh soldiers to press too far toward the capital could be viewed as a threat, no matter how amicable things were between himself and Kentoria’s newly-crowned king.
Or, re-crowned, Thea thought. She’d heard nothing about the state of things in Samara, and while part of her wished to ride straight to the palace, she couldn’t predict what might be there waiting. Gaius, she hoped, but she didn’t know, and she doubted he would forgive her if she rode straight into danger.
Instead, she tied Molasses in the stone-walled garden behind her old home and brushed snow from her skirt. Her illusory trousers underneath had kept her warm, but her dress represented something now. She couldn’t see herself wearing anything else.
The mare had become a gift, since Rilion didn’t know how to get the horse back when she was done. Thea didn’t know what she was supposed to do with her, either, but it was a problem for another time. The first thing she had to do was find out if the posters calling for her capture had been removed.
She unlocked the back door and let herself in. To her surprise, the kitchen was warm.
Had someone else taken her home? No, that made no sense. They would have changed the locks. Curious, she tip-toed to the doorway to peer into the front room.
The lanterns were lit and the room was bright. At the far end of the room, her cousin sat, concentrating hard on a seam.
Had Elia kept the shop open all this time? Bless her! Thea retreated a few steps and wiggled out of her boots. No matter how eager she was to see her cousin, she wouldn’t approach her in disguise. She shimmied out of her trousers and winced when she bumped the corner of the table.
“Hello?” Elia called.
Perhaps she should have gone in the front.
“It’s me,” Thea said. She shook snow from her skirts and crept around the corner to find her cousin poised like a bird ready to take flight.
“Thea! Oh, Thea!” Elia bolted across the room to seize her in a crushing hug. The moment she’d squeezed all the air out of her, she stepped back and took Thea’s face in her hands. “By the Light, when we saw the posters, we thought you were dead! Where have you been? What’s happened?”
“The posters,” Thea wheezed as she tried to get back her breath. “Are they still there?”
“They vanished about a month ago, when King Gaius came out of hiding. Light! Were you hiding, too? Thea, what happened?”
Thea’s heart skipped a beat. So he was there. She extricated herself from her cousin’s hands and brushed over her dress again. “So much has happened, I hardly know where to begin. Oh, but what about you? You’ve kept the shop going by yourself, all these weeks?”
Concern rose in Elia’s eyes and her excitement faded. “Well, sort of. I’m not sure if… that is, I’ve done my best, but there’s a problem, and…”
After all she’d dealt with at this point, Thea couldn’t fathom what it might be. “What? Angry customers? A late wedding gown?”
“No. It—” The clock chimed before Elia could finish. “Light! Is it that time already? I have to—oh!” She clapped her hands together with a gasp and hurried across the room.
Thea turned to watch her. “Where are you going?”
“I have somewhere to be!” Elia pulled on her cloak and flipped the sign on the door to show they were closed. “But this is perfect. You have to come with me. You’ll be able to settle this in no time.”
“What are you on about?” Thea asked, but her cousin grabbed a satchel and then grabbed her arm before she could object.
“You’ll see.” There was a light in Elia’s eyes again, a hint of excitement Thea couldn’t understand.
Her cousin dragged her out the back door and into the street.
“But I haven’t got any shoes on!” Thea protested.
“We don’t have time, we’ll be late. Hurry!” Elia dragged her along through the streets. They were clear, but wet, and Thea’s socks were soaked through in no time. Her toes burned with the cold by the time she realized where they were headed.
The red granite palace at the heart of Samara lay just ahead.
“Wait.” Thea tried to stop, but her cold feet gave her no purchase. “Wait, I’m not ready!”
“We don’t have time,” Elia insisted. “You didn’t get a chance to see him last time, are you really going to throw away a second audience?”
“I can’t! Not like this!” Not in a snow-damp dress with mud-stained socks and no shoes, and no idea what to say.
“My father tried to petition the council while they led the country, while the king was rumored to be dead,” Elia explained. “Then the king returned, so he took his audience with him, instead. Even with my father’s station, it was fruitless. Father wasn’t in line to inherit the property, he said. The shop is set to be possessed by the crown. They’re right about him, Thea. Everything we’ve heard. He’s absolutely heartless.”
And as heartbroken as Thea was, if she’d learned anything at all. Selfishly, she prayed it was so.
“But we’re not giving up. I asked for this audience right after, and if he is mean, at least he’s fast.”
“You’re late,” the guard at the palace gate called as they approached.
“I’m not late! I’m on time, but barely.” Elia pulled a paper from her bag and waved it at him as she passed. Thea stared at it, dumbfounded. Her cousin caught the look and gave her a lopsided grin. “I guess that’s one thing that runs in the family. No sense of time at all.”
Thea couldn’t find the will to argue. By the Light, what was she supposed to say to him? She was supposed to have time to gather her wits, collect her thoughts, maybe ask to speak with him in private. Instead, her cousin dragged her up the stairs and into the palace. Behind her, the guards wheezed with laughter at her appearance.
“I can’t,” Thea gasped, one last effort to save her dignity. She was a mess, her hair tangled and limp, her feet leaving wet marks on the floor—
“You will.” Elia shoved a handful of papers into her grasp and then planted her hands on Thea’s back to thrust her through the doors and into the throne room.
The doors banged open and she stumbled onto a plush carpet she didn’t remember from her first visit.
Thea froze.
Gaius slouched on the throne and conversed with a guard nearby, his face so cross she hardly believed it was him, and so handsome she couldn’t help but stare.
Taxes.
They’d never seemed so trivial.
His eyes flicked her way, returned to the man beside him, then snapped back. He sat up straight.
The papers spilled from her hands and drifted across the floor.
“Thea!” Elia scolded in a whisper. She bent to snatch the papers from the rug, her face pinched with distress.
Thea couldn’t make herself move. What should she say? What could she say? Every thought whirled away the moment she tried to grasp it, like maple seeds twirling in the wind.
Slowly, Gaius rose.
“Say something,” Elia cried at her back, the words scarcely more than a breath.
Thea unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “You said if I had need, to let Rilion know.”
Elia froze with her hand on a paper.
“Rilion couldn’t help me.” Her eyes prickled, but she drew a deep breath. She would not crumble now. “I need you.”
He descended from the throne with long, sure strides and swept her into his arms.
“I dared not hope,” he whispered beside her ear. She’d heard him say it before, but not like this, not with her face buried in his neck and his hands tangled in her hair, his breath but a catch in his chest. “After all I’ve done, after how badly I’ve wronged you, how could I ask—”
“You never had to ask,” she said. “I’m yours.”
Gaius took her face in both hands and kissed her so hard, she thought he might never let go again. She rose on tip-toe to meet him, sliding her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck until she could cradle the back of his head.
“Marry me,” he gasped when they parted.
She leaned up so her answer brushed his lips. “I already did.” Her hand went to the bag she’d had no time to remove. She found the paper she was looking for and pulled it free. “You signed your real name? Truly?”
A single laugh escaped his throat. “Honestly, who would have believed?” He glanced down at the paper as she held it out, then leaned back to let his eyes travel farther. “Where are your shoes?”
“In my shop. Which is still burdened by improper taxes, I’ll have you know.”
“By the Light, that still hasn’t been fixed?” His eyes darkened like thunderheads, like the storm of him that had drawn her in and left her dizzy, consumed her and yet made her whole. “Let it be known, my wife is not to be taxed!”
Thea laughed as he crumpled the license between their hands to lace his fingers with hers.
Elia and a dozen courtiers stood around them, mouths agape in varying degrees of confusion.
“Thea,” her cousin said slowly, eyes drifting between her and the king. “What is going on?”
Madness, part of her thought, though the best kind, the sort that drove one to the sort of reckless and magnificent behavior that had come to dominate her life.
Love.
She drew back a step, but Gaius kept an arm around her, as if he’d never let go. Maybe he wouldn’t.
Thea cleared her throat and offered a smile as she presented the man beside her. “Elia, I’d like you to meet my husband.”
Gaius flashed her a smile. “Charmed.”
