With his spectacles cracked, the White Rabbit depended on Yuba to guide him, while Princess Uma said a silent prayer for all the animals that had died during the war.

“Anyone seen Jack?” Pinocchio asked.

Red Riding Hood pointed to him and Briar Rose kissing behind a tree.

As Merlin tended to the wounded students, Beatrix used what few skills she’d learned leading Evil’s infirmary to help Lancelot bind his bloody shoulder.

“Gwen will never let me leave the house again,” he grumbled.

As Agatha stirred, she felt Tedros running his fingers through her hair.

The first thing she saw was Merlin crouched over Cinderella, wrapping her body in his cloak. The old princess looked so peaceful and light, the way she had when she saw her stepsisters one last time.

The wizard met Agatha’s eyes and gave her the warmest of smiles, as if to reassure her that even though she was no longer alive, Cinderella had finally found her happy ending.

Agatha watched as Hort and Chaddick helped the wizard carry her away. Tomorrow, there would be a funeral, where she could say goodbye . . .

Tomorrow.

“The sun,” she choked, peering into the dark sky. “Where’s the sun?”

“Waiting to rise in the morning,” said her barechested prince, helping her up. “Thanks to you.”

Agatha exhaled. “Takes two for a happy ending,” she said, searching for her best friend. But Sophie was nowhere to be seen.

“You know what went through my head as the axe was coming down?” Tedros asked. “That we never had nicknames for each other, like every other couple.”

“We’re not like every other couple,” said Agatha, looking at him.

“No, we’re not,” Tedros admitted. “Not every king finds a queen who’s smarter, stronger, and better than him in every way.”

Agatha put her hand to his golden cheek. “You are the pretty one, at least.”

Tedros grinned, leaning in. “Mmm, you might have me beat there too.”

He kissed her long and soft, leaving Agatha even more wobbly on her feet. Tedros steadied her with his strong arm, bringing her into his sweaty chest. After all this, he somehow smelled better than he ever did before. She kissed him again, a blush blooming on her cheeks—

Then her smile faded.

Tedros noticed and turned.

Through the trees, Sophie was kneeling beside Lady Lesso, shivering on her back, as Professor Dovey clutched her friend’s hand.

The Evil Dean’s dress was soaked with blood.

“Oh no,” Agatha whispered.

Sophie stroked Lady Lesso’s cheek, gazing into her violet eyes. The Dean was wheezing shallowly, trying in vain to say something.

“Shhh,” Professor Dovey said to her, stoic and firm. “Just rest.”

The Good Dean had known the moment she’d seen the wound from Aric’s knife that magic would serve no use.

Sophie glanced up and saw Agatha, Tedros, and all the other young and old heroes gathered at a distance, watching solemnly.

“What . . . made you . . . do it?”

Sophie slowly looked down.