Niccola staggered back, numb. Hands caught her. She dropped the bow and turned her face into Isaiah's shoulder, melting into his hug as he held her close. She could hear his heart beating nearly out of his chest.

"Did you get her?" he said. "I know you needed to fulfill your barrower trade, so I told them not to shoot."

"I got her."

"Thank the sky."

His voice wasn't steady. Niccola freed her arms and hugged him back. Tightly.

"I was scared you wouldn't come," he murmured. "I hope that was just a code."

"I was scared you'd turn yourself over for my sake."

"You're the one who does that. I just brought the Guard."

"I'm sorry," said Niccola, and realized a heartbeat later that he'd said it, too. They both paused, unsure what to say next.

"I'm sorry," said Niccola again, breaking the silence. "You were right."

"So were you."

She gave a watery chuckle. "Are we still friends?"

"Were we ever?"

She pulled back and frowned at him. He was smiling. His hands trembled on her arms, there was a bleeding knife-line across this throat, and he was teasing her.

"Am I wrong, though?" he said, nearly laughing, as though the giddy relief of their safety had gone to his head.

Except he wasn't wrong. He'd always intended to court her, and she'd harbored distrust, even hatred for him until the moment she didn't. She dropped forwards again, re-burying herself in his arms. "Depends how you define friends."

She could practically hear his grimace. "Please don't make me mark what differentiates romance from any other long-term partnership. I've never known."

She'd never thought she would hear someone else put that into words, let alone so succinctly.

"But I'm sorry, too," said Isaiah. "You were right. I should have pushed back sooner."

"Did the Guard back you?"

"Without question."

Further conversation was interrupted by a frantic chirping sound. Niccola twisted her head to find a guard making her way towards them with Pekea in her arms, restrained by the wings, paws, and harness. The little dragon kicked and writhed, trying to brace herself against the guard's armor for purchase to launch herself in Isaiah's direction. When they were close, the guard let go. Pekea made the leap and crashed into the space between them. She nuzzled Isaiah frantically.

"I'm fine, Pea," he murmured. Niccola could tell it was a lie. Pekea found the cut on his neck anyway, and forged straight through his attempts to block her from it. She clambered onto his shoulder began to lick it gently. Isaiah elected to return his hand to their hug instead. He rested his cheek in Niccola's hair.

She couldn't not say it. It was clear he felt the same way she did; he wouldn't have made the joke otherwise. He'd always been serious. She was the one who'd been holding back all this time. "I know you never explicitly made me a courtship offer," she said, "but does it still stand?"

The way his whole body sank sent Niccola's heart plunging. Had she assumed too far? She shouldn't have spoken before they talked out the rest of their differences, trivial as those now seemed. They'd both faced death and emerged on the other side willing to forgive each other; she'd assumed that was enough.

"My mother already sent an offer," said Isaiah hoarsely.

Niccola's thoughts tripped over themselves. She pulled back and gripped his arms again. "She what?"

"While she had me locked up." Isaiah looked about to crumple. "She sent a proposal to a high duke's daughter in Madeira. One she already knew would agree."

The shaking in Niccola's hands morphed from the aftermath of fear to the full force of fury in an instant. Meribah wasn't worth the air she breathed. A signed and sealed proposal was a thorn to retract—it could be done, but that work would fall to Isaiah.

"I'm retracting it as soon as I can," he said. "But if you don't want to deal with that... with her, and me, I'll understand."

"Are you daft? I just said I want to. Do you know how hard it is to make me admit I like someone?" He still wasn't looking at her, so Niccola finished with the most direct words she could muster. "I like you, Isaiah. I love you, however we want to define that. If it means staying together, that's enough of a definition for me."

"You'll be standing down Madeira with me first thing."

"Madeira invaded my home realm. They can try me."

She hugged him again. He returned it, tighter than before. Pekea, done with her search for injuries, slithered down to Niccola's shoulder to inspect her next. Rapid footsteps sounded behind her a moment before Phoebe crashed into her back and hugged her from behind.

"I hope this doesn't mean you're leaving me," she said, muffled where she'd jammed her face into Niccola's shoulderblades.

"I think we all need to talk about that," said Niccola. Isaiah said absolutely nothing. "But not right now."

"I want to go home."

"We're a long way from home. And I've got a lot of things to figure out here first. But we've got somewhere else to stay until then." Niccola tapped her head lightly against Isaiah's chest, and he nodded. Verde and Margaret's place was still open to them. Niccola eased out of the hug, and both Isaiah and Phoebe released her. Now that the coursing energy of danger had left them, both looked exhausted. Niccola could feel the same drain hitting her, too. She hoped she would have the energy to make it out of the forest.

Gideon, the head of the City Guard, disentangled himself from a cluster of subordinates and approached Isaiah. "Your highness," he said with a crisp bow. "We should move out of the forest soon, and see you and your companions to somewhere you can rest and recuperate. Will that be the palace?"

"No. House five, Bantam Lane. I have friends there... could you see that the place is secured?"

"I'll see it done."

"What is your report here?"

"We are hoping to locate where the necromantic had her base. Both to uncover the depth of her operations, and to gather anything of value that may give closure to the families of former victims. Some have never been found."

Niccola's heart sank as she remembered the body of the woman still left behind in the clearing where she and Dinah had fought.

"I can get you a crow-guide," said Phoebe. "Dinah has a cabin in the deep Talakova, and another place where she kept her victims locked up. The crows know where to find both."

She'd grown in the time she'd been held captive. Or maybe she had always shown this kind of maturity, and Niccola had just refused to see it. This was another person Niccola wanted to rule beside. They could all rule together. What a novel idea, that sisters should pool their strengths, and neighboring realms should be allies. And now maybe, finally, they could make it happen.

The walk out of the Talakova felt simultaneously long as a night's slog, and short as a jaunt up the road. Overexertion and lack of sleep now distorted Niccola's sense of time far worse than the Talakova had. When they reached the lowlands, the streets were lifeless. It was eerie. Thankfully, Verde and Margaret's house lay just outside the edge of the evacuation zone. Gideon and his guards escorted Niccola, Isaiah, and Phoebe all the way there, then set up a watch rotation at the door while the couple ushered their weary royals inside.

"Come by the office tomorrow, if you can," said Gideon in parting. "With luck, we'll have more on that Talak-damned necromantic by then."

Isaiah thanked him. The next hour passed in a blur, as Verde heated baths and Margaret fussed over the many cuts, scrapes, and bruises the three of them had picked up during their time in the Talakova. Phoebe bit her lip as Margaret's gentle fingers traced the chafing on her ankle. Margaret sent her to the bath first, then saw to the injury. Niccola let Isaiah go next. She put a hand on his arm when he emerged.

"Two beds," she said. "What are your thoughts?"

"Would you rather share with your sister?"

"She hogs the blankets."

That made him smile, as hoped. "I'm fine sharing, then. Though I might be asleep by the time you get there."

That proved prophetic. Pekea's head whipped up as Niccola slipped under the covers on the bed's empty side. The dragon stretched like a cat and paced up and down until Niccola settled herself, then plunked down between her and Isaiah again. For all that had happened that day, Niccola fell asleep smiling.

Niccola was up before Phoebe or Isaiah the next morning. With the time distortion in the Talakova, a full day had passed during the hours she'd spent facing down Dinah in the forest's depths. Niccola tracked down a guard outside who could fill her in on the details. Isaiah had seized power from his parents the previous morning. After that, he'd spent half a day ordering the evacuation of the outer lowlands, writing warning letters to neighboring realms, and determining how best to equip the City Guard and support Niccola when he was finally able to forge into the Talakova after her.

He'd not yet told anyone how the situation in the palace played out. Niccola suspected she would be the one to draw it out of him. He rarely spoke about exchanges with his parents, but this one would be important for her to know, and she knew he'd handle the fallout better if he had someone to conspire with. Niccola thanked the guard anyway. Verde and Margaret were out, so she foraged for breakfast, then curled up on a sunny windowseat and watched birds outside. The streets were deserted even here. If the news had gone out that the necromantic threat was over, it had not yet reassured the people. Niccola doubted it had gone out, though. If Isaiah was in charge now, such a pronouncement would require his approval, and he'd yet to wake up.

It was from her position at the window that she was the first to notice Gideon coming up the street. Niccola frowned. He'd suggested Isaiah come to the office, not the other way around. She slipped from her seat and was waiting at the door when he arrived.

"Your majesty," said Gideon, and bowed. "I have a delivery for the prince."

"I can bring it to him."

Gideon regarded her extended hand with some hesitation, until Niccola added, "The courtship is no longer a facade, if that helps put your mind at ease. We will share everything regardless."

"Very well." He pulled a slim metal tube from inside his vest and handed it to her. Broken straps dangled from the rings on its sides. Niccola's attention sharpened. This was a letter-carrier designed to be worn by a crow.

"That was found on the ground at the site of the prisoners' encampment," said Gideon. "Our trackers do not believe it was handled by the necromantic herself—simply misplaced by whatever crow was carrying it." He paused. "There was evidence of a great many crows in that part of the Talakova yesterday."

Niccola smiled sweetly. "Yes, that was my doing."

He nodded once. "That helps our investigation. Regardless, after seeing the seal and intended recipient, we determined it was an item that should be opened by the prince. If there is anything in it relevant to our investigation, we will wait to hear it."

"I will make sure it reaches you. Is there anything else?"

Gideon shook his head. "That is all. Fair weather."

He took his leave. Niccola shut the door and immediately turned her attention to the tube. She pried off its cap and tipped a roll of paper into her hand. A letter. It was written on very fine paper: the kind she herself would only use in diplomatic correspondence. She inspected the seal, read the intended recipient, and nearly dropped the letter in shock. An irrepressible smile was quick to follow. She understood now why Gideon had brought the letter straight here, and why he'd gone out of his way to make it a personal delivery. If this was what she thought it was, Isaiah was going to want to hear about it the moment he woke up.