The conversation flowed easily. Stories from the past weeks. Jokes that had become references. The comfortable rhythm of people who had survived something together.

  “Katherine sent another letter,” Felix said at one point. “She’s added a new category to her planning system.”

  “What now?” I asked.

  “Conversation compatibility. She’s tracking who gets along with whom. Who needs to be separated. Who will talk each other’s ears off if seated together.”

  “That sounds exhausting,” Adrian said.

  “She has charts. Multiple charts.” Felix shook his head. “I mentioned that Duncan and Owen might attend and she asked me to rate their conversational styles on a scale of one to five.”

  “What does that even mean?” Henrick raised an eyebrow.

  “I have no idea. I just wrote ‘royal’ and ‘mysterious’ and hoped that was enough.”

  “And was it?”

  “She sent back a follow-up questionnaire.”

  “Smart woman,” Kyle called from somewhere behind us. “She’s going to keep you organized for the rest of your life.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Felix said. But he was smiling.

  The miles passed in laughter and warmth. Whatever waited ahead, we would face it together.

  The journey south took us back through familiar territory.

  We stopped at waystations along the main road and traded stories with innkeepers who’d heard rumors about what happened in Dunmarch. News traveled fast in Keldrath. By the third day, we’d stopped correcting the exaggerations.

  “I thought you said you’d never ride a horse again,” I said to Felix on the third morning.

  “I did say that.” He shifted in his saddle and winced. “I also thought we’d take a wagon back.”

  “Adrian offered the carriage.”

  “And sit inside while everyone else rides?” Felix shook his head. “After everything we’ve been through together, that felt wrong. I’d rather suffer with the group than be comfortable alone.”

  “Noble of you.”

  “Stupid of me.” He adjusted his position again. “My legs will never forgive me.”

  The waystations blurred together after the fourth day. The same hearty meals. The same creaking beds. The same curious looks from travelers who wondered why two journeymen rode with a prince and his guards.

  On the sixth night, we stayed at the last waystation before the capital.

  “Strange to think about how it started,” I said to Felix as we sat outside watching the stars.

  “We thought we were just fixing some ward failures.”

  “We were. The failures just had bigger causes than we expected.”

  Felix was quiet for a moment. “Do you think it’s really over?”

  “The conspiracy? Probably not entirely. But we broke the back of it. The rest is cleanup.”

  “Cleanup that someone else handles.”

  “For once, yes.”

  He smiled at that. “I could get used to letting other people handle things.”

  The capital rose from the horizon on the seventh day.

  Spires and towers reached toward the sky. Walls that had never fallen. The seat of the kingdom where Adrian had grown up and where his father still ruled.

  We entered through the western gate with Adrian’s credentials smoothing our passage. The guards recognized the prince and waved us through with minimal formality. Inside, the streets bustled with the controlled chaos of a major city.

  “I need to report to my father,” Adrian said as we navigated toward the palace district. “He’ll want to hear about everything that happened in Keldrath. Erasmus is probably already preparing the briefing.”

  “We should find lodging,” I said. “Get cleaned up before we continue home.”

  “No need.” Adrian smiled. “I’ve arranged something. Call it a thank you for saving my life.”

  Before I could ask what he meant, I spotted a familiar figure waiting near the palace gates.

  Rose.

  My sister stood with her arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently. She looked older than when I’d last seen her. More confident. The weeks of managing network communications on her own had changed her.

  “You’re late,” she called as we approached.

  “How long have you been waiting?”

  “Since this morning. Adrian sent word from the last waystation that you’d arrive today.” She shot the prince a look. “He neglected to mention a specific time.”

  “I said midday,” Adrian protested. “It’s barely past noon.”

  “It’s nearly two.”

  I dismounted and Rose crossed the distance between us. She punched my arm. Hard.

  “That’s for making me worry.”

  “Ow.”

  “And this—” She hugged me quickly, then stepped back before it could get sentimental. “That’s for coming back alive. Don’t make a habit of almost dying.”

  “I’ll try.”

  She turned to Felix. “Katherine asked me to tell you she’s finalized the ceremony schedule. She sent you a letter but wasn’t sure it would reach you on the road.”

  “Did she add more items to the list?”

  “Three. But she said you’d be happy about one of them.”

  Felix looked skeptical. “Which one?”

  “She’s handling the cake selection herself. You don’t have to taste anything.”

  “That is good news.” Felix actually smiled. “I was dreading that part.”

  Our parents waited in a receiving room near the palace entrance.

  Father stood with his merchant’s bearing, hands clasped behind his back. Mother sat near the window with needlework in her lap, though she set it aside the moment we entered. The pride in their expressions as they watched me cross the room said more than words could.

  “Marcus.” Mother pulled me into an embrace that smelled of home. “We heard everything. The kidnapping. The rescue. The consortium.”

  “News travels fast.”

  “It does when your daughter has access to a communication network that spans three kingdoms.” Father clasped my shoulder. “You’ve done well. Better than well. The king himself commended your actions.”

  “The king?”

  “Erasmus briefed him this morning. Adrian confirmed everything.” Father’s expression held pride mixed with concern. “You’ve made a name for yourself, son. The Fairwind reputation extends well beyond Millbrook now.”

  The weight of that settled onto my shoulders. Reputation was a double-edged blade. It opened doors but created expectations. It made friends but also enemies. It changed how people saw you whether you wanted it to or not.

  “I just did what needed doing,” I said.

  “That’s all any merchant can do.” Father smiled. “But some merchants do it better than others.”

  Felix found his father in the palace gardens.

  I watched from a distance as Harold Penwright approached his son. The elder Penwright walked with the careful bearing of a man who had spent decades maintaining a certain image of being precise, controlled, and distant.

  But his expression softened when he saw Felix.

  “Son.” Harold extended his hand. Felix took it. The handshake lasted longer than formal greeting required.

  “Father. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I came when I heard.” Harold’s voice carried weight I had not heard before. “The kidnapping. The danger. You could have been killed.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “No. You weren’t.” Harold released Felix’s hand but did not step back. “You saved a prince. You exposed corruption that had festered for years. You did things that masters twice your age have never attempted.”

  Felix stood very still. Waiting.

  “I’m proud of you,” Harold said. The words came out rough and unpracticed. Like they had been waiting a long time to escape. “I should have said it sooner. Should have said it more often. But I’m proud of who you’ve become.”

  Felix’s expression cracked slightly. Just enough to show how much those words meant.

  “Thank you, Father.”

  They stood in the garden as the afternoon light filtered through the trees. Two men learning how to be more than strangers. It was a beginning. A small one. But a beginning. I left them alone to some privacy.

  Adrian joined me near the palace stables as evening approached.

  “I’ve arranged your transportation home,” he said. “A royal carriage. Comfortable travel for three.”

  “Three?”

  “You, Felix, and Rose.” Adrian smiled at my confusion. “Rose wanted to go home with you. Something about helping with wedding planning.”

  “She’s been exchanging letters with Katherine for weeks. I think they have schemes.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  Adrian nodded gravely. “It probably is.”

  We walked toward the carriage house where a vehicle waited with the royal crest on its doors. Polished wood and brass fittings. Cushioned seats visible through glass windows. The kind of transport that turned heads wherever it went.

  “We can ride a regular carriage,” I said. “This isn’t necessary.”

  “It’s not nearly enough.” Adrian stopped and turned to face me. “You saved my life, Marcus. You and Felix. You risked everything to find me when I was taken. That’s not something I can repay with a comfortable ride home.”

  “We did what friends do.”

  “Then accept this as what friends do in return.” He clasped my forearm. “Safe travels. Give my regards to Millbrook.”

  Rose appeared from somewhere with her travel bag over her shoulder. She stopped when she saw Adrian, and something shifted in her expression. Something I recognized from the wagon ride home after the dungeon.

  “Your Highness.” Her voice held a formality that did not match the way she looked at him.

  “Rose.” Adrian’s ears went pink. “I wanted to thank you for coordinating everything during the crisis. The network check-ins. Contacting Kyle’s company. None of the rescue would have worked without you.”

  “I did what needed doing.” Rose met his eyes. “You would have done the same.”

  “I would have tried. You actually succeeded.” Adrian stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I’ll see you at the wedding?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Save me a dance?”

  Rose’s composure cracked slightly. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I’ve seen you dance at court functions. Are you sure that’s wise?”

  Adrian’s ears went redder. “I’ve been practicing.”

  “Have you.” Rose did not make it a question. “Well. I suppose I could risk it. Just the one.”

  “Just the one,” Adrian agreed. “For now.”

  The last two words hung in the air. Rose tilted her head.

  “Purely mathematical,” she said. “Five years is five years.”

  The callback landed exactly as she intended. Adrian’s smile softened into something warmer.

  Then Rose stepped back and the moment ended. But I remembered Sarah squeezing my hand in that wagon. Murmuring your sister and five years against my shoulder while she laughed softly at whatever she saw coming.

  Watching them now, I suspected Sarah had been right all along.

  Felix followed with his own gear. Roderick and Henrick stood nearby and waited to say their farewells.

  “Until the wedding,” Henrick said. “We’ll be there.”

  “Katherine’s chart will accommodate you,” Felix promised. “Somehow.”

  The guards clasped our arms one final time. Then they stepped back and took their positions beside Adrian.

  We climbed into the carriage. Rose settled into the seat across from Felix and me. She pulled out a notebook and pen with purposeful efficiency.

  “So,” she said. “Tell me everything. Start from the beginning. And don’t leave anything out.”

  The carriage rolled through the palace gates and turned toward home.

  Behind us, Adrian raised his hand in farewell. Roderick and Henrick stood like statues at his side. The capital shrank into the distance as the road unfolded ahead.

  Somewhere at the end of that road, Sarah waited. And a shop we had not yet to purchase. And a future we were finally ready to claim.

  “Everything?” Felix asked Rose. “That’s a lot of ground to cover.”

  “We have two days,” Rose said. “Start talking.”

  The miles disappeared beneath us. And the story began again.

  Chapter 44

  Room For Five

  The royal carriage moved like a ship on calm water.

  Cushioned seats absorbed every bump in the road. Glass windows offered clear views of the countryside rolling past. The interior smelled of polished wood and leather and the faint sweetness of whatever the palace staff had packed for provisions.

  Felix stretched his legs across the space between seats. “I could get used to this.”

  “Don’t.” Rose sat across from us with her travel bag open beside her. “This is a gift, not a lifestyle.”

  “Let me dream, Rose.”

  The first day passed in comfortable conversation. We told Rose everything that had happened since we left Millbrook. The infrastructure work in Dunmarch and Veldros. The sabotage and the political obstruction. Adrian’s kidnapping and the rescue. Edmund Gray and the confrontation that ended with redemption instead of destruction.

  Rose listened with the focused attention she brought to everything. She asked questions that cut to the heart of what we described. Technical questions about the ward adaptations. Strategic questions about how we identified Edmund’s monopoly. Personal questions about how we felt when Adrian was taken.

  “You were scared,” she said after I finished describing the ward trap in the inn.

  “Terrified.”

  “Good.” She nodded once. “Fear means you understood the stakes. People who don’t get scared in dangerous situations aren’t brave. They’re foolish.”

  “When did you get so wise?”

  “I’ve always been wise. You just weren’t paying attention.” She smiled to take the edge off the words. “Now. Felix. Show me these wedding decisions you’ve been avoiding.”

  Felix groaned.

  Katherine’s lists emerged from Felix’s travel bag like evidence of a crime.

  Pages and pages of options. Color swatches clipped to margins. Questions written in Katherine’s precise handwriting with blank spaces where Felix was supposed to provide answers. Some of the blank spaces had been blank for weeks.

  “Flowers,” Rose said. She spread the relevant pages across the seat beside her. “You’ve been stuck on flowers for how long?”

  “Since before we left for Keldrath.”

  “That’s months, Felix.”

  “I’m aware.” He slumped against the cushions. “Every time I think I’ve made a decision, I remember something Katherine said about her mother’s preferences or the venue’s color scheme or the season’s availability and I second-guess myself.”

  Rose studied the options with the same intensity she applied to artificer theory. “These three are wrong for a spring wedding. The colors clash with the bridesmaid dresses Katherine selected. That eliminates half your choices.”

  “How do you know what colors clash?”

  “I pay attention.” She set aside three pages and examined the remainder. “These two are too expensive for the quantity you need. Katherine mentioned budget constraints in her last letter to Mother.”

  “She writes to your mother?”

  “They’ve been corresponding since the engagement announcement. Mother has opinions about wedding planning.” Rose’s tone suggested those opinions were extensive. “That leaves these four options. Which one does Katherine mention most often when she talks about what she imagines for the ceremony?”

  Felix thought for a moment. “The white roses with blue accents. She said they reminded her of the harbor in summer.”

  “Then choose those.” Rose handed him the relevant page. “Write it down before you change your mind.”

  Felix stared at the page. Then at Rose. Then back at the page.

  “That’s it? That’s the whole decision?”

  “The decision was always simple. You were overcomplicating it.” Rose pulled out the next category. “Now. Seating arrangements. Katherine sent you a preliminary chart with seventeen unresolved conflicts.”

  I chuckled. “Those might have become even more complicated in recent weeks.”

  She nodded. “Let’s work through them.”

  The miles disappeared beneath us while Rose methodically dismantled the wedding planning backlog that had haunted Felix for months. She approached each decision like a logic puzzle. Identify the constraints. Eliminate the impossible options. Choose the best remaining answer. Move on.

  By the time we stopped for the midday meal, Felix had resolved more planning questions than he had managed in the entire journey to Keldrath.

  “Your sister is terrifying,” he said quietly while Rose examined the provisions the palace had packed.

  “She’s efficient. There’s a difference.”

  Felix arched an eyebrow. “Is there?”

  “Not really. But it sounds less alarming when I say it that way.”

  The afternoon brought different conversations.

  Rose had exhausted Felix’s wedding homework by midday. The remaining decisions required Katherine’s direct input and would have to wait until we reached Millbrook. That left time for other topics.

  “The shop,” Felix said. He had recovered from the morning’s efficiency assault and now sat with renewed energy. “We should talk about what we actually want.”

  “We’ve talked about it before.”

  “In general terms and vague aspirations, sure. But we have real money now.” Felix patted his travel bag where the payment from Duncan rested. “Enough to make actual plans.”

  He was right. The shop had always been a someday goal. Something to work toward. Something to dream about during long hours of inscription work and longer nights of study. Now, someday felt closer than it ever had.