Even when we turn in for the night, the energy is too much to allow for sleep. It makes us giddy and optimistic and excited for the day to come, the day when we get yet one more step closer to victory. And when Erik produces two bottles of fine Astrean wine from the Ovelgan estate, we get all the giddier.
“How did you manage to steal these?” Blaise asks him, using a knife to uncork one of the bottles.
Erik shrugs. “No one pays much attention to the half-blind fellow fumbling around the wine cabinet amidst chaos,” he says. “And second of all, it technically isn’t stealing because everything on that estate now belongs to Theo. Do you consider it stealing?” he asks me.
“You would have to ask Heron,” I say. “I told him if we took the estate, it would become his.”
Heron’s eyebrows rise. “You were serious?” he asks. “I assumed you were just making grand promises to hide how frightened you were that we wouldn’t succeed.”
“Yes, well, that too,” I say with a sigh. Blaise hands me the bottle and I take a swig. It’s a dark red, warm and spicy. I wipe whatever is left on my lips away with the back of my hand in what I’m sure is a very regal fashion. “But I meant it. Gods know you could use something nice and quiet when this is all done. And it’s what Leonidas wanted.”
“Artemisia was right, though,” Heron says. “If you start giving things out, everyone will want something.”
“I know,” I say, looking around the tent. “But this is just between us. I suppose it’s assumed that Blaise will take on his father’s old title, and his land holdings along with that. Artemisia is always welcome to call herself a princess of Astrea and take whatever jewels and houses that come with that title, but I have a feeling—”
“I would rather not,” Artemisia cuts in, wrinkling her nose and making me laugh.
“Where will you go, then?” Blaise asks. “When this is all over?”
Art shrugs, taking the bottle of wine from me. “I figure I’ll stay in the palace for a while,” she says, drinking some before passing it on to Heron. “Someone’s got to make sure Theo keeps her head long enough to actually wear that crown, after all. After she’s secure and in good hands…who knows? Maybe I’ll take over one of my mother’s ships. Maybe I’ll make sure the Kalovaxians we exile stay out of trouble.”
It shouldn’t surprise me, coming from Art, but it isn’t a life I can imagine anyone wanting after all of this war.
“Won’t you be tired of fighting?” I ask her.
She frowns. “I think I’d sooner grow tired of breathing. It’s who I am.” She turns to Heron. “We can’t keep calling it the Ovelgan estate if it’s yours,” she points out.
“Well, it isn’t as though I have a family name,” he says. “Besides, it was Leonidas’s family’s before. The Talvera estate. I’d like it to stay that way.”
“Then would you like to be the new Lord Talvera?” I ask. “It was what Leonidas wanted, wasn’t it?”
Heron goes quiet for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I think I’d like that. I think he would have too.”
“It’s a fitting tribute,” I say. “Restoring his family’s estate and putting you in charge of it.”
Heron nods, though his eyes are faraway. “Lord Talvera,” he says, mostly to himself.
“Very well,” I say, getting to my feet and gesturing for Heron to rise as well. Uncertainly, he does, letting go of Erik’s hand. The tent is so low that he has to hunch over when he stands.
I hold my hand out to Artemisia. “Can I borrow your sword for a moment?” I ask her.
She gawks at me like I just asked if I could borrow her lungs or her heart, but after a second, she reluctantly unsheathes it, passing it to me hilt first. I take it and hold it before me, the silver of the blade glinting in the low light.
“Kneel,” I tell Heron, and he does, looking perplexed. I realize that he’s never seen a Guardian ceremony. I only remember them dimly, mostly how bored I was during them, watching as Guardian after Guardian came before my mother to receive her blessing and whatever reward she saw fit for their service. I try to recall the details now—what she said, exactly, the words themselves a kind of binding magic. But there might not be a person in the world left who knows what those words were, so I suppose I have to make up my own and give them magic myself.
I clear my throat. “Every Guardian is brave,” I say, glancing around the room. “Every Guardian is strong. But it is less common to find a Guardian as kind as you are, Heron. Especially in this world, in this time, a Guardian with a heart as pure and balanced and forgiving as yours is a rare thing. Not only have you helped to reclaim our country, to save our people, but with your judgment and guidance, we will ensure that when the smoke clears and we stand free on the other side of this war, the world we rebuild will be a better one.”
I look around the room to see the others watching me. Artemisia nods along with me. Blaise wipes away a tear. Søren leans forward, eyes glowing. Erik smiles.
I tap Heron with the blade once on each shoulder. “Rise now, Heron, Lord Talvera. I will forever turn to you for your fair mind and good judgment.”
Heron rises again on shaking legs and smiles at me. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he says, his voice low and gruff with what might be tears. “I hope I serve you well.”
I shake my head, passing Artemisia her sword back before laying a hand on Heron’s shoulder. “I hope I serve you well,” I tell him.
Heron pulls me into an embrace, wrapping his arms around me. I bury my face in his chest and hold him tight, listening to his heart beat. Without any warning, he lifts me up, spinning me around until we are both laughing. When he sits down next to Erik again, he takes the bottle from Blaise and holds it up high.
“To Queen Theodosia,” he says, his voice clear.
“To Queen Theodosia,” the others echo, and the bottle makes another round before coming to Søren last. I watch as he lifts the bottle to his lips and drinks deeply, finishing the last of the wine.
“What will you do when this is all over?” I ask him.
He lowers the bottle and meets my gaze. He considers the question for a moment before shrugging.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I think it depends on a lot of things. But I still have a debt to repay you and your people, Theo. I still have a lot to make up for.”
“When Astrea is ours again, I think you can consider your debt more than repaid,” I say.
“Hell, I considered it repaid after you managed to survive the Kaiserin’s torture,” Blaise says.