She didn’t have to be a queen. She had to be his queen.

And that, she knew how to do.

Without thinking, she was staggering out of the bedroom and down the hall. She flung open the front door and darted down the porch steps to the dewy moors. She squinted into the dark night, heart breaking . . .

Because it was too late. Tedros and Sophie were long gone.

Crestfallen, she hung her head and trudged back towards the door.

A soft crunching sound crackled in the distance.

Agatha looked up and saw a hulking outline far across the heath moving towards the house.

She slunk forward, eyes fixed ahead as they adjusted to the darkness.

“Hort?” she called out.

But now she recognized the heft of the walk . . . the long, muscular arms . . . the thick belt on his waist, missing a sword.

Tedros’ gaze locked on her as he strode towards the house.

Before she knew it, Agatha was sprinting towards him and Tedros sprinting towards her. Stumbling in the dark, Agatha could hear herself panting, choking up, as his shadow hurtled towards her, faster, faster, until they collided like stars and Agatha fell. Tedros swept her up in his arms as she laughed and he kissed her long and hard, like he’d never kissed her before—

“You think I don’t know you, Agatha,” he whispered. “You think I can’t see who you are.”

“It’s not enough for you to see it, Tedros,” said Agatha. “I have to see it too.”

“And now my whole kingdom will see it. The greatest queen who will ever live.”

Agatha stared into his eyes, so clear, so convinced. “But I’m just me—I’m just a girl . . . and you . . . you’re . . .”

“You think I know how to be a king?” Tedros blurted.

“What? But you always act so—”

“Act. Act!” He shook his head, voice breaking. “Tell me you love me, Agatha. Tell me you’ll never give me up again. Tell me you’ll be my queen forever—”

“I love you, Tedros,” Agatha wept. “I love you more than you know.”

“Say the rest too!”

“I—”

But there were no more words, as tears streamed down their faces and mixed on their lips, the sugar and salt of love.

Far across the moors, Hort waited a long time after Tedros left the cave before he made his move. He’d followed the prince when he’d brought Sophie here, so it was unsettling to see him leave the cave without her. Skulking out from behind a tree, Hort stole through the opening, his fingertip glowing, until the sapphire walls blinded him with their glare.

“Sophie?” he called, shielding his eyes. “Sophie, where are you?”

But all Hort found was an unused sword and a spatter of black feathers, as if she’d been rescued away by a swan.

PART III