Page 65 of When the Baker Met the Dragon

“That’s the one.”

“Do they know what happened to them?”

I didn’t want to say too much for fear of upsetting him. He’d told me had no memory of his childhood and very little from his adolescent years.

“The records don’t say. And neither Robin nor Lucretia ever spoke of it. I will just have to let them rest, all of them, and appreciate the fact that I wasn’t abandoned as I had thought.”

“Where did you get that idea anyway?”

“Not from Robin or Lucretia. I’m not sure now that you mention it.”

“I bet it was just some arsehat’s cold bullying when you were young. You took it to heart.”

“Arsehat. You sound like Laini and Tully.”

I smile and curl into him even closer. “I’m glad you know the most important part of your history. That you were loved.”

He kisses the top of my head. “Thank you, my friend, my love.”

We trade kisses and trace one another’s faces, simply enjoying being together in the quiet peace of our new bond.

“There is one more thing I learned,” Cyrus says.

I raise my eyebrows and halt in running a finger over the tip of his ear. “Yes?”

“I am descended from the ghost.”

My mouth pops open and I smack his chest lightly. “Really?”

“Yes,” he says, grinning proudly. “Joaquin believes that’s why my parents were drawn to the area around here. I am directly from the noble line of Dragorian Sunscale.”

“You’re noble?”

“Not truly. Too many other marriages that were quite far from those noble bloodlines over the years. But I did sign on to use the surname Sunscale since I do have a claim on it.”

“So I’m Mistress Sunscale now?”

“You can be. You choose.”

“I do choose! That’s way more exciting than baker.”

He chuckles and whispers in my ear, “I adore you more than the stars love the sky, Lady Sunscale.”

“I adore you right back, Lord Sunscale.”

With his warmth all around me, I fall asleep and dream of our future together. Dancing in Rustion’s courtyard glade with our friends clapping around us. A bigger bed in my room, taken up mostly by a large set of wings and a tail. Sio curled up on Cyrus’s lap. Maybe three or four younglings from the orphanage and one child we made running about the bakery and the pub.

Life, rich as cinnamon and sweet as sugar.