Trying so hard to steal moments of laughter, even though we all know the end is coming.

I watch his hand, the one I know isn’t really there. He’ll have to tell, eventually. And Malachite won’t be pleased, to put it far too lightly. Neither will Varia, when they get her back.

I laugh under my breath. Varia. Oh, the princess is gonna be piping-hot fish-pie mad when she comes back and finds out it was me who did the whole world-changing thing, not her. She’ll hate me more than she does now, if that’s even possible. I can just imagine her walking through New Vetris and constantly spitting on whatever silly statues of me Lucien decides to erect.

“He better make me look good,” I mutter to no one and pat my chest. “But then again, with this figure, how could he not?”

“How lucky it is you developed a habit of talking to yourself outside your time at the Vetrisian court,” Fione’s voice comes from behind me. I whirl to smile at her.

“Indeed, Your Grace. Can you imagine the scandal I would’ve started if someone caught me muttering about eating cow’s brains for lunch?”

“Utter mayhem,” she agrees, the stars twinkling in her blue eyes.

“I would’ve died,” I say. “Again.”

“For good, maybe.”

“Oh, no one dies for good.” I wave her off. “Haven’t you read any books? Characters live on forever.”

“You’re not a character, Zera.” Her voice goes flat. Does she suspect? No. She couldn’t have. I haven’t let anything show.

“Obviously.” I motion at my everything. “I’m larger than life. And, occasionally, my own corsets.”

Her face doesn’t move, and that’s how I know she’s thinking about it. Of course she is. Out of all my friends (what a luxury, that sentence), she’s always been the whip-smart one. Yorl is just as intelligent, certainly, but Fione knows. She has uncanny intuitions and she follows them, because she’s a creature of heart. Some part of me still connected to Varia knows that’s what the princess loves best about her.

“You can’t leave,” Fione says finally. I lean on the railing of the ship, watching the sea churn black, embroidered white by our froth.

I grin at her, small and faint. “Why would I?”

“I meant what I said, Zera. I don’t want to lose anyone anymore.”

“Neither do I,” I agree.

She leans beside me, staring into the water with me. “You can’t keep doing things on your own.”

“Oh, I’m not—not this time. I have all of you.”

My smile doesn’t reach her, her gaze searching the ocean desperately. “I promised, you know. I made Varia promise we’d name our first child after you.”

I laugh, watery. “Bet she fucking hated that.”