Page 150 of Spar of Hearts

On deck, the Lupus Star’s customary celebration was well underway, and more extravagant than Anya had ever seen before, thanks to Agnes’s generosity. Strings of mage lights cris-crossed the masts and rigging overhead, filling the entire deck with a warm glow. Mead, wine, and ale flowed freely. Seabirds perched on the crosstrees, hoping to steal a bite of the vast feast.

They danced under the expanse of stars, sometimes with each other, sometimes the entire crew in large, riotous circles while Sir Bayard laughed, struggling to keep up with the foreign steps.

When Anya looked into each of the friendly faces of her pack, she was reminded that although she was leaving Blackbird behind, she wasn’t alone. She would never be that little girl again, alone in a cage, hiding away her true self and crying to the moon. Tonight, she was celebrating the end of a voyage, and the beginning of the rest of her life.

As midnight drew near, the festivities dwindled. Anya sipped her wine on the bow and took in the heartwarming sight of Gail bouncing Olivia on her knee while Bernard danced with Annette in a slow, romantic waltz. Ornella’s children were curled up in the circle of Isen’s tail while the dragon told them stories of Aquillas, complete with puffs of mist and different voices, though each had the dragon-like gravel to it. When the children and the crew started to retire to the lower decks, Anya turned her gaze to the shimmering reflection of the moon and stars over the waters, letting herself be lulled by the gentle rock of the ship.

“You ought to be more careful, you know.”

She turned to see Roderick sidling up to her, though she’d felt his breath before she even heard him speak in an incredible, intimate sensation she would never tire of. As he drew closer, his masculine scent flooded her senses. His fiery hair looked like glowing embers in the dusky light. Stars above, he was handsome. It was a miracle she’d resisted as long as she had. But she didn’t have to anymore.

“Oh? And why is that?” she asked with a playful grin.

He placed a hand on either side of the crook of the bow, bracketing her in. “Someone could throw you overboard.”

Anya teased a claw down his chest. “I’d like to see them try.”

“There’s a lot of things I’d like to try with you.” With a fluid motion, he tugged her hips against his. Her chest filled with butterflies.

“Like what?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“That’s going to take a while.”

“Good thing we have lifetimes for it.”

Roderick tapped his forehead against hers and inhaled deeply. They both savored the shared sensation of doubled breath, light and airy like a spring breeze, bursting with the promise of new life—which was exactly what awaited them.

Epilogue

Anya Delemond

One month later

Uplifting fiddle music filled the Balcott town square. Smooth notes rose and fell like the wind dancing through Anya’s hair. She sat at a picnic table overflowing with flowers and circlets of braided hay.

She wore a simple blue overdress with a cream liner, and pockets, of course. Her hair was tied low in a braid that fell between her shoulder blades. It all felt so relaxed, freeing, and ordinary in the most extraordinary way. No one treated her differently, even those who recognized who she’d been before. Though she was still the same Anya Delemond, formally tendering her abdication had lifted a weight from her shoulders. She was less anxious. She smiled more. Without the pressure of royal laurels, her relationship with her parents had improved too, albeit slowly. There was a lot to say to them, both good and bad. But they were willing to listen, and that was a start.

“Yours needs more pink,” Mabel declared, dropping a handful of rosy willowherbs in front of Anya.

“Does berry juice count?” Anya asked, wiggling her stained fingertips toward the girl.

“No!” Mabel squealed a laugh and scooted away.

“All right, all right. More pink.” Anya pinched the stem of a willowherb and knotted it around the circlet.

She stopped to watch Mabel work on her crown. The girl hummed and swung her legs back and forth as she wove a few stems together, occasionally stopping to pop a blueberry into her mouth. Even among the fiddle playing, the chatter, the clank of carnival games and chirping birds, the best sound was the unbridled laughter of the children running around, without a cough or a sniffle in sight.

The entire crew of the Lupus Star was there too, enjoying a well-deserved sabbatical from the seas. Bernard played a fiddle duet with Roderick’s friend Millicent, both smiling ear to ear as they exchanged riffs of notes. Annette danced with Ornella’s son while Ornella stood off to the side with Captain Verden speaking with serious expressions.

Anya watched the many Centarians in much finer health than she’d last seen them; cheeks softer and rounder, fingers no longer bony and willowed. They danced and sang with the rest of the crowds, making the most of every minute of their newfound lives.

She had hoped the Regent would have information about the Vampires, for their sake. But aside from rumored sightings in the southern part of Aquillas—on par with that of a gryphon with two heads or a Were breathing underwater—their archives had been as scarce as Valeria’s.

“What do you think?”

Anya looked up, finding Roderick flashing a fanged smile down at her—one pearly, one gold.