“I have the life I want,” Raisa said. “Oh, I know it’s not perfect, and people are trying to kill me, and nobody in the queendom can get along, and we’ll likely be invaded soon, but other than that…”

Unexpectedly, they were both, impossibly, laughing, when there was absolutely nothing to laugh about.

They kissed and laughed and kissed again, like the worst kind of fools. The moon rose and set, and they embraced like lovers that have all the time in the world. The breeze from Hanalea touched their heated skin like a benediction, a blessing. Gray shadows formed up around them, set with brilliant eyes and teeth—a gauntlet against intruders.

“The sun’s coming up,” Raisa said finally, as dawn reddened the sky to the east. They lay entwined on a bed of flowers, cradling each other, looking up through the glass at the vault of heaven circling overhead. They hadn’t slept—why waste a single moment of their time together?

Raisa was ambushed by the voice in her head that said, This may be your only time together.

Red sky at morning, sailor take warning, she thought.

The dog reappeared from wherever he’d been keeping himself, and nudged Han’s arm, licking him in the face and whining uneasily.

“What’s your dog’s name?” Raisa asked, extending her hand so he could sniff it. He seemed to approve, because he settled down beside her.

“Dog,” Han said.

“Dog?”

“I didn’t name him,” Han said. “I inherited him from my former employer.”

So many questions, so many stories that needed telling. A story of their own they needed to write. One with a happy ending.

How long could they stay here without being discovered, in this little sanctuary on the roof?

Not long, Raisa guessed. An endless list of things to do rolled out before her.

Pillowing her head on Han’s arm, she turned over to face him.

“Listen. I’ll send word to Amon, tell him to come here. We can talk to him together. We’ll convince him that you’re innocent.”

Han shook his head. “All we have is my say-so,” he said. “And a lot of evidence to the contrary. My word’s never been good enough before, when it comes to keeping me out of gaol.” He gently disentangled himself from her embrace and got to his feet. Cocking his head, he measured the angle of the sun. “I have to go before it gets too light. Right now is prime—change of shifts for bluejackets.”

“I am the queen,” Raisa said. “I won’t let you go to gaol.”

“You are queen, but you keep telling everyone that you govern under the rule of law,” Han said. “You can’t make an exception in my case.”

“When did you get to be a politician?” Raisa grumbled.