Evidence of the god’s destruction greeted him at every turn. Buildings had been ripped apart, their debris blocking the streets. Small fires smoldered in various pockets of the city, with neighbors working together to put them out. People huddled in broken doorways, wounded and confused as strangers tried to lead them to safety.

But in the wake of the destruction, Anton also saw evidence of quiet joy and resilience. People spilled into the streets, talking and even laughing with one another, sharing cups of wine and food. Voices joined in song echoed out from rooftops.

The sounds of merrymaking carried Anton through the decimated palace gates. Crowds of people spilled out of the front courtyards. Someone perched on a crumbling wall launched bright, alchemical lights into the dark sky. Music filtered out from a banquet hall, and Anton could see people dancing and drinking within. The darkness had lifted. The world turned on.

He bypassed the banquet hall and entered through a different corridor, climbing the stairs and wandering through unfamiliar hallways until he found an open bedroom.

It wasn’t until he was inside that it hit him how exhausted he truly was. He hadn’t slept at all the night before, not wanting to miss a single second of what he thought would be his last few hours with Jude. And the process of scrying into the past, of turning the others into Prophets, of facing the god, had taken almost everything out of him.

He curled up on the rumpled sheets, and, perhaps for the first time in his life, fell instantly into dreamless sleep.

Fingers stroked Anton’s hair. A soft sigh eased its way from his chest.

The hand pulled away, and Anton let out a noise of displeasure.

“Ah, so you are awake,” Jude said teasingly.

Anton opened his eyes to find the swordsman perched at the edge of the bed.

“Good morning,” Jude said, his voice soaked in fondness.

“It’s morning?” Anton asked. Somehow he thought he would’ve woken up when Jude returned. He rubbed his face. “I slept the whole night.”

“You slept three whole nights,” Jude corrected. “And two days.”

“What?” Anton demanded, sitting up.

“Well, you woke up halfway through and ate almost your weight in bread,” Jude amended. “And then went back to sleep again. Then you woke up again in the middle of the night and tried to persuade me to marry you.”

“No, I didn’t,” Anton said, fighting back a smile even as embarrassment made him flush with heat.

“Yes, you did,” Jude assured him. “You were quite upset when I said I was already married.”

Anton reeled him in by the front of his shirt. “Quit teasing me.”

“I would never tease you,” Jude said solemnly, letting Anton maneuver him into a slow, sleepy kiss.

“What about you?” Anton asked when they parted, pushing Jude’s hair off his forehead gently. “Did you sleep at all?”