“Sit back down,” said the young woman healer at the side of the circular pool.

Niv sighed gratefully, as he slid back into the warm water. It flowed against gravity, following the healer’s skilled fingers. Glowing slightly, where it came into contact with his wounds.

“Don’t be scared,” Cass called, to the hallway where Radha and Connor had been hiding from the stern nurse standing guard. Radha came in cautiously, but Connor ran right for the pool and cannonballed in fully clothed, then hugged Niv so hard that the poor man screamed.

He’d been beaten pretty badly by his captors. Three bones broken. Stitches required. Dehydration; malnutrition. Psychological scars as yet unassessed. But he’d kept Connor safe from the worst of it.

“What are you all doing here?” Niv asked, reaching out his hand. I took it, and sat down on the cold tile. Connor splashed me, and I splashed him back.

“This is a huge story,” Cass said. “The boy who risked everything to save his princess? Who learned of a plot against her and hid her away, incurring a charge of treason and becoming Darkside’s Most Wanted for several days? You’re a star, Niv. For at least a couple more days, until some other story rises to the top of the news cycle.”

“Oookay.” He looked adorable when he blushed. “You’re not going to take photographs of me with no clothes on, are you?”

“Not right now,” I said.

Niv smiled, and it was like nothing in the world was wrong. When he smiled, I didn’t see all the bruises and blotches across the light brown skin of his face. He was so beautiful.

“I’m so sorry this happened.”

He squeezed my hand. “What, this? Doesn’t hurt a bit.” He laughed, and the laugh became a cough.

“Are you two almost done?” Cass asked, picking up a copy of the Post that had been lying around. “We have actual questions for you, Niv.”

“Give us a second, will ya?” I said, and Cass laughed, raising the paper to give us some privacy. Clucking her tongue at the poor quality of their writing.

The photos were good, though.

The crowd surging forward to throw their masks into the bonfire, burning away their sins and crimes along with the body of the Shield. A flock of people kneeling before their queen, as tightly packed as the petals of a chrysanthemum. Queen Carmen’s enigmatic smile. Ash’s quiet regal grace. Laughing faces, with a white tyrannosaur towering over them. A single anonymous figure, seen from the back, tossing an ultramarine armband into the flames.

The queen’s words, spoken to the crowd. Revealing the truth the Shield had promised: