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Lou opens another drawer, pulling out a pouch of Michal’s coins and weighing it in her palm. “I assume Coco and Beau are fine—probably enjoying some well-earned alone time. Talon would’ve found me by now if not, and more than that”—she pockets the pouch without a word—“I suspect that our revenant problem is at an end.”

Michal glares at her, his hands twitching slightly, but makes no other move to stand. “I suspect the same.”

Lou grins. “Doyou?”

Dimitri chuckles at Michal’s black expression, leaning back against the desk and musing aloud, “I’m not a witch, but I suppose it makes sense.... When our darling Pip closed the veil, she ended the ritual that resurrected them.”

My sister snaps to attention, her face whipping toward his. “What did you just call me?”

He leans back farther, gazing up at her through his lashes. Splaying his hands wide across the desk. “Did you really not hear me?”

“Apparently not,” she says through clenched teeth, “as my name isFilippa—Mademoiselle Tremblay to you.”

“Hmm. I prefer Pip.”

Our mother blinks at him in shock. “Monsieur Petrov, I amastonishedby this lapse in decorum—”

“She did stab him in the heart,” Brigitte points out.

When we all stare at her, she shrugs defensively—her cheeksturning pink—and Lou lifts a finger in acknowledgment. “Fair point, well made.”

Dimitri dips his chin. “Thank you.”

“In all seriousness,” Lou says, “my magic feels—better now. Whole again, which tells me the natural order has been restored.” She pats Dimitri on the back, then Reid. “Good job, everyone. A real team effort. I especially enjoyed the part where I lay on the ground for all of it.”

Filippa and Dimitri both snort.

Rolling his eyes, Michal brushes his nose along the curve of my neck before pressing a kiss there. Silence descends, but it isn’t tense any longer. It isn’t panicked or strained. Instead it feels... comfortable. Safe. I toy with Michal’s fingers, relishing their warmth; he runs much hotter than I expected, and I burrow deeper into his lap. “What happens now?” I ask after another moment.

Though we all look at each other, no one seems to have an answer—no one except Michal, who absently coils a strand of my hair around his finger. “Whatever we want, pet. We can do whatever we want.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

Happily Ever After

As it turns out, Odessa cares very little about ousting Michal to the island—perhaps because she informed the populace that she single-handedly disposed of the revenants, healing the isle and saving their lives in the process. Or perhaps because Lou affixed a mustache to Michal’s lip, and the two proclaimed him properly disguised.

Or perhaps because Michal’s heart beats steadily in his chest, and the vampires who’ve gathered to watch our departure seem more puzzled than outraged. They watch us warily from the shadows of the dock as our strange entourage, including Jean Luc and Brigitte, descend from the carriages. Odessa’s sentries surround us, first to act as protection, and second to carry our luggage across the gangplank. They do not speak as they load trunk after trunk onto the ship—and even an enormous portrait of Mila, which Dimitri insisted on bringing.

“I’m not sure the mustache is working,” I murmur to Odessa, who follows my gaze to where Léandre and Violette linger in a nearby alley, their eyes narrowed upon Michal. Uponme. Unease skitters down my spine, but Odessa merely scoffs, unbothered, and commands them to come closer.

“Wait,” I hiss, incredulous. “We shouldn’t—”

“Léandre, Violette”—Odessa gestures to Michal, who pausesin his conversation with Dimitri—“meet Panteleimon, my seventh cousin, twice removed. An uncanny resemblance to our late king, is he not?” She looks them dead in the eye, daring either one to challenge her. After inhaling subtly, their noses wrinkle at our human scent, and their frowns deepen. “Greet him,” Odessa says pleasantly.

Michal regards them with cool indifference as they gape at her, torn between disbelief and confusion. “My queen...?” Léandre asks slowly.

“Yes.” She bites the word, still maintaining her smile. “Yourqueenhas issued a direct command, and she does not like to be kept waiting. Now I suggest that youbow.”

Something in her expression sharpens at the last, and at once, Léandre and Violette mumble their apologies, dropping into a bow and a curtsy respectively. And—remembering their threats at the black soirée—I enjoy the sight of them prostrate. I enjoy it every bit as much as I should.

When Léandre finally rises, lip curling, Odessa orders him and Violette to carry Michal’s luggage to the ship. Jean Luc and Brigitte follow. Though the former nods—looking grudgingly impressed—his hand hasn’t left his Balisarda since we departed the castle. Still, however...

“That went surprisingly well,” I murmur to Odessa.

She lifts an elegant shoulder. “And why wouldn’t it? I am a better queen than Michal ever was.”

“Easy to do.” Dimitri chuckles as Michal rolls his eyes to the sky, peeling off his mustache and dropping it at our feet. “Though imagine howfabuloushe would’ve looked in one of your gowns.” He lifts a hand to ruffle his sister’s hair, but she catches his wristmidair. Startled, he blinks before remembering she is still a vampire, and he is not. For just an instant, wistfulness flashes in his eyes—there and gone again before his sister notices—but I think I understand.