I stayed in the hospital for a week.

Melanie rarely left my side.

She would go back to the palace to shower and change, but then she would stay with me until the next morning. Visitors weren’t allowed, but some cash was enough to change that policy.

Even days later, Melanie was still an emotional mess.

It didn’t matter that I was still here, that the doctor said the wound was closing nicely—it wasn’t enough to erase the trauma.

Gilbert brought us lunch, so she sat beside me in the chair and ate while I remained in the bed.

Having to stay in bed for a week was ludicrous, but I didn’t try to get discharged early because that would get Melanie worked up. She was obviously more comfortable having medical help at the press of a button.

She hadn’t asked me about the camp, the girls, anything. She just seemed to be content that I’d survived the ordeal. But now that it’d been a few days, she brought it up. “So…what happened?”

I gave her the G-rated version. “We underestimated Napoleon—again. But we got the best of him, so it doesn’t matter. We lost a few of our men. Not many. Their men were all massacred, so that’s over.”

“The girls?”

“We had them brought to Paris with money and clothes. Told them they were free.”

“I bet a lot of them went to the police…”

I took a few bites. “Doesn’t matter. It won’t amount to anything.”

“And the camp itself? Is it just…vacant?”

“Yes.”

“What will happen to it?”

“No idea.” We’d taken the remaining coke and sold it off. The valuables in the cabins were removed. The horses were taken to my pasture. The camp was gutted, and the bones remained behind.

“What will happen to you?” She looked down at her food and pushed a few pieces around with her fork.

I watched her, seeing the apprehension. “I’ll get married. Take my wife on a nice honeymoon. Greece is beautiful this time of year. Knock her up a couple times. Live happily ever after, or whatever that line is.”

She raised her chin, a slight smile on her lips. “You got it right. But…is that enough for you?”

My eyes narrowed on her face. “Yes. Because you’ve always been enough for me.”

Her eyes softened like the rose petals in the garden, like the fire that glowed red before it went out for good, like the wick of a candle as it slowly met its end.

A knock sounded on the door, and Magnus entered. “Still here? Fucking pussy.”

I grinned. “Shut the fuck up.”

He came around the bed on the opposite side of Melanie. “That doesn’t look like hospital food.”

“I’m not eating that shit.”