The rest of the day passed strangely peaceful.

  They ate together. Fang sparred lightly with Lucky, teaching her footwork while Sir Dracks corrected both of them. Lucky laughed more than she fought. Fang smiled more than he usually allowed himself to.

  Sir Dracks watched.

  At one point, Lucky sat beside him on the rebuilt steps. “You know,” she said, “I didn’t really have anyone growing up who stuck around.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  He nodded. “Neither did Fang.”

  Lucky glanced at Fang, who pretended not to hear. “You saved him.”

  “Yes.”

  She looked back at Sir Dracks. “You didn’t have to.”

  “No,” he admitted. “But I chose to.”

  Lucky leaned her head lightly against his arm. “You don’t have to choose me. I’m already here.”

  Sir Dracks froze.

  Then—slowly—he allowed it.