“That’s how I knew you before,” Kell said. “You were Nobble.”
“I was,” Dylstra said. “But not only that.”
Her form changed again and became Briona, who smirked at them.
Kell startled. That was who he sensed in Hearthaven that night in the bath. Helfyra had gone out to impersonate Nobble, while Dylstra had returned here…
And since he hadn’t met Helfyra before, that left only one more person in the game.
He bowed his head in respect to Ilondrel. “Then that means you were Mariel, my lady?”
“I’m not much of an actor,” Ilondrel said. “But I was always a good bodyguard. I had to see you and Saeldian firsthand to make sure all this would work.”
“And we were the right tools for the job.”
“You were the hearts that needed my help,” Ilondrel said. “It wasn’t just foiling Osalor’s revenge. It was mending what he’d broken.”
Kell’s eyes prickled. “Thank you.”
Saeldian hugged him tight. “Yes. Thank you.”
“You risked all of this? All your power? Forthis?” Osalor shouted. “A powerless, ungrateful fool? And you’re still alone, Ilondrel. For what? A vicarious thrill over their fancy, and then a love that will fade once they get bored of each other?”
“For everything to be put back in its place,” Ilondrel said. “Look.”
Every eye followed Ilondrel’s pointing finger to the shattered casket, where a beautiful man lay—
—sleeping.
His chest moved with breaths. His hand had moved from lying by his side to resting on his chest, covering the amulet there.
And when he opened his eyes and sat up, Osalor howled and collapsed into a freshly bloomed patch of violets.
Jadiris had been gorgeous in repose, cloaked in long walnut-brown hair and shining armor, his features fine, with lush lips and beautiful cheekbones. In motion, he was breathtaking. He gazed with spring-green eyes at Ilondrel—only Ilondrel, like nothing else in the world mattered.
“I had the most terrible dream, my wife. You were weeping.”
Ilondrel burst into tears. “So I had been.”
He finally saw the broken casket and scrambled to get out of it without cutting himself. He had Ilondrel in his arms. He kissed her hair and let her squeeze him tight enough to trap his ribs.
Osalor wept too, but nobody cared.
“My love,” Jadiris said. “I’m not sure why, but I suspect you’ve been heroic again.”
Ilondrel laughed. “So I have been, my husband.”
“Will you tell me the whole long story?”
“I will, later. Osalor became heartless so he could have his revenge on us. But now he has it back.”
Jadiris leaned to one side to regard Osalor, still crying, pounding his thighs with his fists. Then Jadiris crouched beside him, freeing a strand of hair that had plastered itself to his wet cheeks. “Looks like you got the whole sum of it, my once-friend.”
“Make it stop.” Osalor’s voice cracked.
“I could do that,” Ilondrel said. “No one would argue with me if I took your life in return for what you’ve done.”
“Please.”
