She didn’t look back.

Robb

The room quieted as the steward announced in his nasal voice, “I present the Royal Empress of the Iron Kingdom, Ananke Armorov!”

The doors at the top of the ballroom steps opened, and a woman in a coat as red as blood stepped into the room. For a moment, Robb thought it was Siege—the way she held herself, how every eye in the room turned to look because she demanded it—but then he noticed Ana’s short hair and the scars across her face, and his heart lurched.

However much of Armorov or Valerio flowed in her veins, she was the daughter of a starship captain and there was stardust in her blood.

She commanded the attention of everyone in the room without even saying a word, their gazes following her as she motioned to one of the servants at the bottom of the stairs, and they brought her a shot glass on a tray with a dark liquor.

“Thank you for coming to share this evening with us,” she said loudly, and proceeded to the middle of the ballroom. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the waitstaff bring out shots for everyone. Jax got two for them, and he sniffed his. Oh, that was some strong whiskey—the same kind he’d drunk on the Dossier when the captain had toasted to Barger and D09.

“Please, everyone take one,” Ana urged, and waited for most everyone to before she began. “I will be the first to admit that I haven’t attended many funerals. I’m lucky, I realize. When I was orphaned, I could have been found by a hundred different ships. By Captain Redbeard.” She turned and toasted to him, and he returned the gesture. “Or the Red Dawn.” Again, she acknowledged them. “Or Captain Cullen’s crew, or a passing merchant ship. Or I could not have been found at all.”

Robb scanned the crowd. “Where’s Di?” he whispered to Jax.

The Solani only shook his head.

He didn’t come, he realized. Or—worse still—he left.

“But I was found,” Ana went on, “and I was home.”

“And so I want to make a toast to Erik Mercer Valerio. He might not have been the kindest individual, or the most magnanimous, and some of you might just be here for the food”—to that a few outlaws raised their glasses quietly—“but he was my cousin, and he was a Valerio—and above that . . .”

“Above that,” added Robb, stepping up into the center of the ballroom and locking eyes with Ana. They raised their glasses together. His brother might never have gotten the chance to live in the palace, or sit on the throne, or command the kingdom, but at least he would have the kind of funeral provided for laying royals to rest. He wasn’t sure if his brother deserved it, but he, and Ana, and Jax, and all the people who surrounded him, were better than his brother. And even so, in a small part of his heart, he would miss Erik, even if he didn’t deserve to be missed. Love was strange that way, and complicated. He repeated, “Above that . . . he helped bring us all home. To those who set sail into the night—may the stars keep them steady,” he toasted.