"You unruly princess," I muttered, trying to wrap my head around the notion of such self-imposed captivity.
It was one thing to sniff out magic and sense danger; it was entirely another to stride willingly into its jaws, though I’d done that a time or two myself.
"Very unruly," Varna agreed, the corners of her mouth lifting in a wry smile. "But it was necessary."
“Did you know about this?” I asked Legacy. “Is that why you had her go into my cell so we could talk?”
Legacy shook her head. “No, I was just trying to fight my sudden, powerful feelings for you, but instead, I did something nice.”
My mouth dropped open as warmth suffused my chest until I feared it would pop. “Well, thanks…”
She shrugged. “You’re welcome.”
“General Ehuna knew,” Varna said. “I think she was the only one, though.”
I chuckled. “Of course she knew.”
I hadn’t heard from Ehuna in a while. Without the war, what would she do? Who would she be? Just a High Mage or more than that? I should send her a note to let her know I was thinking about her.
A barmaid dropped off our tankards of ale then. “On the house. War heroes drink free.”
“Thanks. The perks keep coming.” I raised my tankard to both Legacy and Varna with newfound awe. "To necessary unruliness."
“To necessary unruliness,” Legacy and Varna agreed.
The three of us toasted and drank deeply.
"Your unruliness might just be the boldest thing I've ever heard of." I leaned back in my chair, studying Varna, specifically the lines of her scar—the physical cost of her bravery etched into her skin. "You've got guts, Varna. And here I thought sneaking into enemy territory with nothing but a dagger and a bad attitude was impressive."
"Bravery or sheer foolishness, I'm not entirely sure," she confessed, her mischievous grin softening as if she were trying to reconcile the two.
The candlelight danced across her face, throwing her features into sharp relief, highlighting the duality of her nature—royalty with the heart of a rebel.
“Your selflessness is the kind we sing songs about,” Legacy said. “The kind that makes legends."
"Legends don't scar quite this easily." Varna winced slightly as she shifted in her seat.
She had more battle wounds than she let on, it seemed.
"Then they're not doing it right," I said simply.
Legacy smiled and raised her tankard again. "To legends, then. May they keep scarring, keep fighting, and keep winning."
"Cheers to that," I agreed, clinking my tankard against both of theirs.
We received a refill, and we drank in companionable silence for a moment. The inn was brimming with the kind of infectious energy only peace could bring, but our little corner felt like an intimate world unto itself.
I glanced at Varna, who still had a few dark shadows under her eyes. My chest tightened as I considered just how close I'd come to losing her, just like I’d lost Legacy.
"Collie?" Legacy's soft voice pulled me back, her blue eyes searching mine.
"Sorry," I said, shaking my head slightly as if to clear away my darker musings. "Just thinking about how lucky we are. You don’t know how to swim, Varna. You could have drowned. All those times you could’ve died, all because of me."
"No, not because of you," Varna countered. “You saved me, remember? We're still here, aren't we?"
“All three of us,” I whispered, yet it carried the weight of unyielding gratitude.
The familiar surge of protectiveness rose within me. The thought of losing either of them—again or for the first time—clawed at my insides, leaving a trail of icy fear. I realized then that my instincts were not just about survival; they were about safeguarding the ones I cared about.
