Malachite looked up at the sky for a long second before replying. “We found an old training room. From when I was little. I used to hide there when my father was in a mood.”

  Imogen’s teasing expression softened.

  Malachite exhaled slowly. “He followed me in. Didn’t push. Didn’t ask questions. He just... stayed. Like he knew I needed space, but also needed not to be alone.”

  Imogen smiled gently. “Sounds like someone who knows you pretty well.”

  “Yeah,” Malachite said, voice quieter now. “He does.”

  Malachite lay back on the grass, one arm draped over her eyes like she could hide from the words forming in her throat.

  Imogen watched her, patient and quiet which was dangerous in itself.

  Finally, Malachite dropped her arm and exhaled. “I hugged him.”

  Imogen blinked. “You- wait. You hugged Axel?”

  Malachite nodded, eyes still on the sky. “It wasn’t planned or anything. I just… it was quiet. And safe. And I- I didn’t want to let go.”

  Imogen smiled as Malachite went on, slower now. “When he held me, I felt warm. Not just physically. It was like... like something in me finally stopped shaking.”

  She swallowed, fingers curling slightly in the grass. “We locked eyes afterward. And for some stupid reason, I wanted him to kiss me. So bad it almost hurt.”

  She froze eyes wide, “Oh gods,” she groaned, her face slowly turning red as she covered it again. “I did not mean to say that out loud.”

  Imogen’s grin was feral. “You so did.”

  “Forget it.” Malachite pleaded.

  “Absolutely not.”

  Malachite peeked through her fingers, red-faced and mortified. “If you tell him, I swear I will-”

  Imogen threw herself dramatically across her lap. “I live for this. My best friend has a dragon-sized crush and it’s mutual and painful and amazing.”

  “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Malachite groaned again. But this time, she was laughing.

  And she didn’t deny it.

  Malachite sat up, brushing grass off her arms and giving Imogen a side-eye that was only mostly teasing.

  “So,” she said casually, “when’s the royal wedding?”

  Imogen let out a dreamy little sigh. “I don’t know… soon? Eventually? When the world stops trying to kill us?”

  Malachite snorted. “So, never.”

  “Hey!” Imogen gave her a light shove. “Optimism, please.”

  “I’m optimistic you’ll survive long enough to get fitted for seventeen ceremonial dresses and at least three tiaras.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Imogen groaned. “Gods, the fittings.”

  “Oh, and the guest list.” Malachite grinned now. “You know Elise is going to fake sob through the whole ceremony. She’ll probably try to catch Darius’s eye and pretend she used to be the one.”

  Imogen made a sound halfway between a growl and a gag. “She better not.”

  “Oh, she will. And she’ll wear something white and dramatic and completely inappropriate.”

  “Can I ban her?”

  “No,” Malachite said, far too cheerfully. “Because then she’ll say you’re ‘threatened by her political status’ or some other garbage, and suddenly you’ve got Elder Council drama to deal with on your honeymoon.”

  Imogen groaned again, falling back onto the grass. “I hate how right you are.”

  Malachite smirked and flopped down beside her. “It’s a curse. I was born with it.”

  They lay there for a moment, the stars just starting to pierce the sky overhead.

  Then Malachite added, quieter this time, “But whenever you do decide… I’ll be there. Sword polished. Hair done. Ready to glare at everyone who looks at you wrong.”

  Imogen turned her head, eyes a little glassy. “You always are.”

  Malachite nodded once. “Damn right.”

  They lay in the grass side by side, the scent of wildflowers and distant smoke curling softly through the cooling night air. Above them, the first stars blinked into view, unbothered by mortal worries.

  Malachite reached over, gently tugging a blade of grass from Imogen’s hair. “You’re gonna make a ridiculous queen.”

  Imogen laughed, eyes still on the sky. “And you’re going to roll your eyes through the entire coronation.”

  “Obviously.”

  They both grinned.

  Then, from across the courtyard, a deep voice called out, warm and firm:

  “Ladies.”

  They both froze mid-snicker.

  “As thrilled as I am that you’re solving the realm’s problems by star-gazing, we do have a war council in the morning.”

  Imogen propped herself up on her elbows to see Darius standing with his arms crossed, but amusement dancing in his eyes. Beside him, Axel gave a small wave, trying very hard not to laugh.

  Malachite sighed dramatically. “He ruins everything.”

  “I heard that,” Darius said.

  “Good,” she muttered, sitting up.

  Imogen stood and brushed off her tunic, cheeks flushed from laughter and joy. “We’re coming,” she called back, grinning like she was made of sunlight.

  As the girls started toward the others, Malachite bumped her shoulder gently into Imogen’s.

  “One more night of peace,” she said quietly.

  Imogen nodded, her heart full. “Let’s make it count.”

  And together, they walked into whatever tomorrow might bring.

  Imogen had just taken a few steps toward the castle when a shadow moved beside her and without warning, strong arms swept her clean off the ground.

  She gasped, laughing. “Darius!”

  He grinned down at her, already carrying her like it was second nature. “You’re tired. And you’ve had a long day being luminous and dramatic.”

  “I can walk, you know.”

  “I know. I just like holding you.”

  Behind them, Malachite groaned. “You two are disgusting.”

  Imogen stuck out her tongue over Darius’s shoulder. “Jealous.”

  “Of what? Being carried like a sparkly sack of potatoes? Hard pass,” Malachite shot back.

  Axel chuckled beside her. “I don’t know. It does look kind of cozy.”

  Malachite rolled her eyes, but when he looked away, her gaze lingered on him a moment too long. The way the firelight caught in his hair. The way his shoulders moved beneath the leather of his armor. Her teeth caught gently on her bottom lip- absent and not-so-innocent.

  Axel turned back just in time to catch it.

  Their eyes locked.

  Malachite’s face flushed as she immediately looked away, clearing her throat like it might erase the moment. “Stars are out,” she muttered. “Night watch must be getting restless.”

  Axel smirked, trying and failing not to look smug. “Mhm. Sure.”

  “Don’t start.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  He grinned wider. “Still didn’t.”

  She gave him a sharp look, but it was weakened by the color still high in her cheeks.

  Behind them, Darius carried Imogen up the castle steps, murmuring something soft that made her giggle and cling tighter.

  And for just a moment longer, Axel and Malachite stood at the edge of everything warm, awkward, and undeniably drawn to one another.