Page 231 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

I laughed, then realized she wasn’t teasing.

“No,” I said softly. “I guess I’m not.”

“You brought things back,” she said. Her fingers tightened around mine. “Not just bronze and gold. My boy.”

I looked at Rafe.

His face had gone still in that way that told me he was feeling too much and would rather be set on fire than discuss it in front of guests.

Aoi touched my cheek. “He was standing outside himself for a long time.”

The room seemed to quiet around us, though conversations continued nearby.

“I didn’t do that alone,” I said.

“No,” she agreed. “Love is not a thing one person carries alone. That would be very bad design.”

A laugh caught in my throat, too close to a sob.

Aoi smiled, then looked down at Max. “And you brought the soldier.”

Max lifted his head.

“The soldier brought himself,” I said. “He is very independent.”

“Good.” Aoi nodded gravely. “Dragons need friends who aren’t easily impressed.”

Then Aoi looked toward the relics and frowned slightly. “Did we light the burner already?”

Rafael’s hand moved gently at her waist. “We did, darling. Last week.”

She seemed worried then, small and sudden. “I don’t remember the song.”

Rafe stepped forward. “You remembered enough.”

Aoi looked at him, and some of the worry eased. “Did I?”

“Yes.”

Rafael kissed her temple. “Shall we sit for a bit?”

She nodded, then looked back at me. The Fog had shifted her partly elsewhere, but she squeezed my fingers once before letting go.

Rafael guided her toward a quieter sitting area near the windows, his hand steady, his face full of the kind of love that didn’t need the easy parts to stay.

Rafe stood beside me, silent, and I took his hand again.

Later, after speeches and champagne and a small argument between Cressler and Moira over whether Max could be listed as a consultant on internal training materials, Rafe and I escaped to the terrace.

The evening was cool. The gardens stretched below, dark and silver under the moon. The estate no longer intimidated me the way it had at first. It was still enormous. Still old money and old magic. But now I could see the living parts too.

The place where Aoi liked tea.

The path Rafe took when he needed to think.

The lower stretch of grass where Max had discovered the joy of carrying sticks large enough to qualify for permits.

Rafe rested one hand at my back. “Tired?”