“Well, I can actually propose a trade,” Cleo says, snapping herself back. “I just finished a fresh doodle of the four of us in front of that windmill over there.”

Cleo holds out the sheet of ripped sketchpad paper, and indeed she has drawn us all in full cartoon color: Logan in his standard athleisure, Chase in his young professor uniform, Cleo in her romper, and me in my pastel linens. We stand on either side of a bright windmill—Chase with Logan, and Cleo with me. As usual, the doodle feels perfect, capturing something essential about our afternoon here.

“Wow, that is deeply awesome,” Anwar says, taking in the doodle. “Think there’s room for one more in the middle there?”

Anwar smiles at Cleo, and she returns the gesture, but something about it feels… hollow? Or am I still just being paranoid about Anwar fitting in?

I already invited Anwar along, so there’s no backing down now. Besides, the others will really like him once they get to know him. And we came all this way, we can’t just leave it at twenty minutes. I want to get to know Anwar better myself, after all.

Still, I make a little mental note to keep an eye on Cleo, to make sure she doesn’t feel left out. The last thing I’d want is for her to feel like a fifth wheel, because as far as I’m concerned, she’s the whole damn car.

Click here

When I told the others Anwar was joining us for the day, the only one to protest vocally—and predictably—was Chase. But one stern glance reminded him that he owes me a command decision or two, after last night. Besides, our first detour pulled me out of my usual Empress ways, so I was due for her to reemerge.

I had to agree to sit on Charvan’s back bench to make room for Anwar, but I don’t care. I don’t care about the lingering fast-food smell or the unanswered questions still left at our feet. I don’t care about Cain and the Prince. I don’t care about wandering the desert or my night soaking in panic. Right now, I let it all go.

Because right now, we are simply all princes and princesses, riding our chariot over the great hill. We have just come through the mountain pass out of Solvang and now drive down the winding road to the coast. The ocean sparkles miles below us in the distance, glistening in an endless blue stretch of possibilities.