The opulent courtyard lies in ruins. Fire engulfs the manicured rosebushes along the walkways. Walls and pillars crumble and collapse. Remains of mechs litter the ground, smoke bellowing out from their reactors.

Laoise’s grip tightens around her gun as she scans over the destruction. “This doesn’t bring back our dead,” she says, “but fuck does it feel good to avenge them.”

Sebille steps next to her, the two taking a moment for themselves amidst the carnage. Eva watches them closely, seeming to handle this destruction much better than Magh Meall’s.

“We’ll do more than that,” Gráinne says. “Father will be in his bunker by now, an army between us and him. He’ll have either collapsed most of the emergency tunnels that lead directly to the bunker or filled them with soldiers.”

“What do you suggest?” I turn to look at her. “It’s all narrow, cramped halls to me anyhow, so I’m not exactly picky.”

“There is a tunnel system he’s not aware of,” she says. “I used to hide there as a child. It should be the clearest path.”

Eva furrows her brows. “How do you feel, Princess? About what we’re going to do?”

Gráinne turns to look at Eva, the softness in her eyes a stark contrast to the death that surrounds us. “It’s been a long time coming. That man sired me, nothing more. I may feel differently once the deed is done, but we aren’t there yet.” She brushes her hand along Eva’s face. “Thank you… for checking on me.”

“Always.”

They share a quick, warm kiss before Gráinne’s eyes harden, steeling herself for the battle head. She motions for us to follow, dashing ahead. I take the middle of the pack, along with Laoise and Sebille. Sif is behind me, and Eva takes the rearguard. It’s a solid formation, taking advantage of our individual strengths. The halls are eerily clear of soldiers.

Gráinne motions for us to halt as we reach an intersecting path. She signals me to her side. Around the corner, a group of soldiers lies wait in ambush, hiding behind barricades.

“It’s going to be a slog if they’ve reinforced the central parts of the palace,” I say. “Where’s the hidden passage?”

“Still some ways away,” Gráinne says. “I imagine that from here, we will find many such entrenched soldiers.”

I furrow my brows. “Okay, I’ll take out this group and push forward alone. You lead the others to the passage. Hopefully, my distraction clears the way.”

“Alone?” Gráinne shakes her head. “No, I won’t allow it.”

“Don’t worry about me, Princess.” I wink. “I always destroy my enemies.”

She purses her lips. “You had better come back to me, stubborn wolf.”

I spare a moment to kiss her before rushing out around the corner. Gunfire fills my ears immediately. The nanomachines are adaptive little things, reinforcing my body in microseconds on impact. The bullets clang against me with almost no pain.

The soldiers realize too late that they aren’t stopping me, and by the time they do, I am already carving through arteries. One of them takes a swing at me with the butt of their gun, only for it to shatter against my reinforced skull. Geysers of blood flow as one soldier after another is rent open.

To their credit, none of them flee.

It takes me less than a minute to clear out this group. I am covered in blood that is not my own, the bodies of my prey strewn about. I wipe my knife clean, stowing it in its sheath. The others are gone by now, leaving me alone to hunt down my next targets.

From here the palace is swarming with pockets of guards, some patrolling, others forming barricaded footholds. I take out the patrols quickly enough, usually just a pair or a trio of soldiers at a time. The next large groups, however, I take my time with. I give them an opportunity to call for reinforcements. My gambit works. Dozens upon dozens of soldiers flock to me.

It’s only a matter of time to kill this many. Their weapons are useless against me, and I do not get tired. My cybernetic heart, lungs and synthetically reinforced muscles fuel my one-woman war on the emperor’s palace army. A flicker of violet light flashes in the corner of my eye. I instinctively block with my arms as the powerful beam slams into me. I’m thrown back through a wall, stone and mortar crumbling around me. My flesh sizzles in pain.

“Gods below, did that kill her?” one soldier asks, panting.

“I’m shocked it didn’t vaporize her completely. This gun can take a limb off a mech,” says a familiar voice.

It’s a voice I only heard a few times—at Fianna. Renault. Pushing through the pain, I get up from the rubble, dusting myself off. The nanomachines and my healing factor kick in to soothe my burnt flesh. Renault fires again, the massive gun barrel spinning to life. I dash to the left, the beam of light missing by mere centimeters.

The man is a giant, at least five meters tall and covered head-to-toe in powerarmor—a small mech. My knife will be useless against that, and so will any weapon I can pick up from the ground.

Fuck.

I leap into the air, dodging another blast from that gun—at the very least, it is slow to fire. I twist as I fall, slamming my foot down on his shoulder. Metal crunches under the weight of my kick, but he shrugs me off, slamming the gun into my ribs. The pain is dull, the nanomachines instantly reinforcing the area—which doesn’t help with physics. I am launched into a pillar, my back smashing against marble as I go through it.

There isn’t much pain, but I’m not going to win this fight like this. The massive gun spins up again, launching that deadly violet beam right at me. My first instinct is to dodge. I’m fast enough, but I brace myself instead, holding my arms out in front of me to block the shot. Searing pain courses through me at impact, but only briefly—something happens. Rather than the beam dissipating as it should across my body, the nanomachines seem to absorb the raw energy. I feel my muscles grow stronger. The exoskin surrounding me thickens, taking on a form rather like the Phantom Queen.

Renault fires twice more. Each time, my body absorbs the energy, transforming further. On the third shot, I move, not wanting to test the limit to the punishment I can take. The exoskin has become like metallic latex flowing down the contours of my body. Key parts of me—my arms, legs and chest are encased in thick armor. Even the HUD that flashes across my eyes is identical to my cockpit. The nanomachines must have somehow copied the software.

“What the fuck are you?” he asks, his voice raspy and tinged with fear.

“Don’t know,” I say, flexing my fist. “I’ll have to figure that out once I’m done killing you.”

I create a shockwave as I kick off the ground, slamming into Renault in an instant. He’s knocked back, keeping his balance, but only barely. Even with his face obscured, I can sense his fear. The barrel of his gun spins up again. I pounce, grabbing the gun and tearing it apart with brute strength as it fires. The resulting explosion hurtles us both through the air. I catch myself easily enough, dashing back into combat.

He takes a swing at me, his massive arm like a club. I catch it in the air, twisting my body to throw him to the ground. He cracks the floor, leaving a small crater. I leap on top of him, pummeling him with my fists. His armor gives way to my fists, peeling away bit by bit. As if sensing my needs, the machines coursing through my body produce a lance—a crimson lance. I thrust it down into Renault’s head, twisting it as I feel it impact his skull.

He dies instantly; the powerarmor going limp underneath me. The remaining soldiers flee in terror. I don’t give chase, as tempting as it is. Better for them to encourage the others to surrender. If not, well, at the very least, they may bring more reinforcements to me so that I can continue being a distraction.

The nanomachines return to their original state, my lance deconstructing down to its base parts. I’m now in a simple form fitting flightsuit. I wonder if mother intended the little things to be so useful or if this is simply the unintended side-effects of me being so heavily augmented to begin with. A question I’ll only have time to ask later.

By now, I hope that the others have reached the passage at least. I open an encrypted comm line to them. There is a brief pause before Eva answers.

“Are you hurt?” she asks.

“No, I just finished up,” I tell her. “Are you all in the passage yet?”

“We are,” she says. “The bunker isn’t too far from us. Sending location.”

There’s a ping in my ear and numbers display over my retina. “Right. I’m on my way. Before I forget: the nanomachines can become a remarkable exoskin suit. It was like being in a mech.”

“Well shit,” she says. “I’ll pass that along to others. How did you figure that out?”

“Fought a man in powerarmor and one thing led to another. No idea how it works, only that it happened.” I trod off away from the bodies littering the ground, heading towards Eva and the others. “I’m on my way. See you soon.”

“You better.”

---

Dia’s distraction has paid off. The way to the hidden passage is mostly clear. We’ve run into a couple of patrols, but the five of us have been able to take them out quickly and quietly. Sif, in particular, is shining. Her sniper training is invaluable in keeping our presence quiet. The princess is proving a capable team leader, guiding us safely along the labyrinth of hallways in the palace. Laoise and Sebille look out for one another when we skirmish, proving quite capable.

Then there is me, and I am not coping well. I feel naked out of the Morningstar, weak and helpless—afraid. I am used to all eyes being on me and putting on a show of violence for the sake of entertainment. When did I become nothing but a performer?

“We are close,” Gráinne says, pulling me from my thoughts. “Two more turns, then into my room. Mother had the passage made in secret in case of invasion. I only ever used it to hide away.”

“You’re sure she never told your father?” I ask.

Gráinne smiles softly. “We had our secrets,” she says. “For the many faults my mother has, she still resisted my father in her own small ways. This was one of them. Now it is our quickest path to victory.”

We reach Gráinne’s room without incident, the automatic doors sliding open as we approach. Once inside, she locks the room up tight. It won’t stop a determined battalion, but it will buy us some time. Her room boasts opulent decorations of gold, silver, and marble. To say the room is extravagant would be an understatement.

“My poor plants,” Gráinne says wistfully, walking over to the far corner of the room. She kneels, brushing her fingers along long dead flowers. “Father must have forbidden anyone from taking care of them when I left for Earth.”

“How can you tell?” Sif asks.

“The dust,” Gráinne says, pointing out the specks on the dead plants. “The room is immaculate; the dust has gathered only here.” She sighs as she rises. “One more thing, in a long list of things, that he has destroyed. My garden at the academy, too.”

“I’m sorry, Princess,” I say gently, placing my hand on her shoulder. “He’s got a lot to pay for.”

“Quite,” she says, taking in a deep breath. “It is just as well that no one tended to them. The passage is here.” She places her hand on the wall. A scanner activates, running a laser over her palm. There is a click, and a false wall opens to reveal the hidden hallway. “This will take us to the bunker.”

I am about to speak when, unfortunately, a fist slams into my face. My back smashes into a wall. I cough up blood, my vision blurry. Six people, all equipped in powerarmor, step out of portals… I don’t know how that’s possible but I’m not going to question what is right in front of my eyes. The others open fire, but their weapons are entirely ineffectual against the six’s armor.

One of them grabs Gráinne, their hand nearly as large as she is. She screams as she’s tossed into an open portal. I try to leap in after her, but it snaps shut right in front of me.

“Target beta secured,” one of them says. “Kill the others before target alpha arrives.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Do they mean Dia? Fuck.

“Down the passage! All of you.” I leap up onto one of the soldiers, smashing my fists into their head until my knuckles are bloody and raw. I make a few dents but nothing noticeable before being tossed off, slammed into the ground by my tail. If my bones could shatter, they would. I cough up more blood—I don’t even want to think about all the internal bleeding.

The others run into the passageway, one of the hulking soldiers moving to stop them. I get up, smash myself into them and otherwise make myself a chaotic nuisance to distract them while the others escape. I don’t know how much time I can buy them, but I am going to give them as much as I can.

My fists and feet smash into armor, my knife useless even when I try to slip it between joints. There’s no weak point to target, and far too many soldiers compared to me. If not for my augmentations, I’d long be dead by now. How the hell did Dia kill even one of these guys?

I wish she was here. None of this would be happening if she were here. Am I going to die?

One of them takes a swipe at me, using their gun as a cudgel. I duck under it, scurrying away to get some distance now that I have their attention. Super-heated plasma shots fly past my head, melting the wall behind me.

Inside the Morningstar, I’m powerful. I’m not this weak girl who can’t stand on her own two feet. All I can do is stay alive, dodging desperately, hoping that Dia gets here in time to save my ass.

Fuck.

They took my girlfriend while I just sat there, stunned. Now, I’m hoping my other girlfriend saves me? So much for being among the best.

I’m pathetic.

One of the six boosts towards me, moving faster than I can react. I get another face full of steel across my jaw. They kick me to the ground, stomping on my chest with their massive boot. I cough up more blood as I’m crushed. They chuckle at my helplessness, grinding their heel into my ribs. My bones creak under the strain.

I can be broken after all—maybe I’ve always been broken.

Dia can’t save me, neither can the princess or the others. It’s just me. Just me getting ground down into pulp. I’m so sick of being a useless punching bag. From the very start of this, I’ve been so out of my depth. Only now do I realize the real reason I didn’t join Dia to begin with—I was afraid I would just hold her back. It wasn’t death that scared me; it was being worthless.

I will not die, not like this.

I dig my fingers into the boot, desperately trying to shove this asshole off me. They stick their gun in my face, the barrel spinning to life. Fury and fear take hold of me as I push back against my impending death. Strength I shouldn’t have courses through me, the soldier gets shoved back half a step. It’s enough.

I roll out from under their boot just as they fire; the beam melts the floor. There’s not a single part of me that isn’t in pain and bruised, but I’m alive. I’m alive and I am pissed. The soldier shoots again. I rush towards them, slipping the beam by a hair’s breadth before smashing into them. They get shoved back again, that same otherworldly strength still running through me.

I press my attack, punching them hard enough that my fist craters their chest.

“Stop wasting time and kill her!”

“I will not die here, you fucks,” I say, smashing my fist into my hand. “You’re all dead. You just don’t know it yet.”

My vision goes black for a split second before the all too familiar HUD of the Morningstar appears. I don’t know how it happened, and I don’t care, but the exoskin has finally decided to work. The soldier aims their gun at me, shooting off a round. I leap into the air, an axe forming in my hand as I come crashing down. The heavy blade slices through the armor, cleaving through the pilot’s head. They crumple, falling to the floor with a thump.

“Shit.”

The six, now five, surround me, cutting off my movements. They are exactly where I want them. I can fight; I can win. My axe, a perfect replica of the Morningstar’s, will cut every one of these assholes down—I have a princess to save.

I slash through violet plasma, my axe blade becoming cherry red. It slices through the arm of the soldier like butter, splitting limb from body. They barely have time to scream before I twist in the air and bring my axe down through their skull. Four to go.

Deadly feathers dance around me as I dash about. I don’t even think about it, I just control them the way I do the swarm-bits, sending them off to cut my enemies down. Unlike my knife, the feathers find purchase in the joints of the armor, spilling blood as they slice through the pilots inside. Between feather and axe, I kill the remaining soldiers, leaving six bodies scattered about.

I am alive; I won.

“Damn, Eva,” Dia says, stepping through the hole in the wall. “That was a hell of a fight.”

“Hey,” I say weakly. “How long were you watching?”

Her tail flicks behind her, her ears swiveling in search of sounds. “Long enough to worry that I made a mistake. I’m glad you’re okay. You’re not allowed to die on me.”

I smirk. “Not planning on it. Thanks for letting me handle that on my own—I needed that.”

“I know,” she says softly. “The others went down the passage?” She scans the room, her brows furrowed.

“Except the princess,” I tell her, casting my gaze down to the floor. “They came in through portals. Don’t ask me how that works, and threw her in one. I have no idea where she is.”

“Fuck,” she spits. Her eyes close briefly. When she opens them, they glow bright white. “She’s still in the palace. I’m getting a weak ping, but no signal is reaching her.” She blinks, her eyes going back to normal.

I stand up, the exoskin fading away, along with the axe disappearing into my body. “You were the other target.”

“Cleopatra.”

---

Hanging from the ceiling, shackles bite into my wrists, my toes unable to touch the ground. A wicked woman smiles up at me, obsidian hair flowing behind her like void made liquid. Cruel red eyes bore into me; I’m dressed but feel utterly naked before her gaze.

“You are exquisite,” she says, running her tongue along her lips. “A shame my men failed to capture the pretty wolf.”

I smirk, unable to help it, because of course my wolf would ruin her plans. “You’re obsessed.”

“True,” she says, running her hand along my face, cupping my chin firmly. “I know perfection when I see it. Unfortunately, perfection is notoriously hard to tame. We have little time to speak before she and the others burst in to save you.”

Her touch is not like that of lovers. She repulses me. I struggle against the shackles to move away. “You are unwise to think I need saving, Cleopatra.”

“We’ll see.” She removes her hand, grinning widely. She’d be stunning if not for the malice in her smile. “I couldn’t help myself, you know, I just had to meet you finally. I have been watching—waiting—for longer than you can imagine. It’s difficult to articulate my joy when you all found one another on your own. I’m particularly impressed with the Lion’s growth; that was unexpected.”

I test the shackles subtly. I won’t be able to slip them but, with enough force, I can rip out the anchor above me. “What do you want?”

She turns her back to me, the lights of the bunker coming on in full. My father is lying on a surgical bed, unconscious but alive. “Everything, Princess. I want everything.”

She takes out a long syringe, squeezes out some of its contents, and then jabs it into my father’s neck roughly. He wakes up, howling in pain, his eyes going wide with fear.

“I’m so close, too,” she says, her voice dropping low. “So close to taking what I want.” She giggles, a disconcerting sound from someone who is colder than death. “Play with this toy for a while; I no longer have use for it.”

Father writhes, his flesh bursting as his bones twist. He breaks free from his restraints, his body growing rapidly into a hulking mass of flesh and protruding cybernetics.

“What a pathetic creature you are, Cormac,” she says, stepping out of his way. “At least you will have some purpose in death.” She snaps her fingers, tearing a hole in reality. She turns back to look at me, her red eyes glowing. “Do survive, won’t you? The three of you make my existence interesting.” She chuckles as she steps through, the portal closing behind her.

Before my eyes, my father grows several meters in height, arms and legs swelling to brutish proportions. I came to accept that he lost his humanity a long time ago—not in body, but in heart. It’s fitting that the thing in front of me can hardly be called human. There is some justice that this is his fate, the man who stole the humanity of so many others reduced to this in the end.

I yank down hard on my restraints; the anchor gives way. I am shackled still, but the long chains will prove useful. Father thrashes about, mindlessly destroying the bunker. He recognizes that I’m here finally, his mouth opening to unleash a horrible screech.

“Good to see you, too,” I say, circling around him.

He rushes towards me, clawed hands outstretched. I whip him with the chains, smashing them across his face. The metal cuts through his eye. He clutches his hand to the wound, snarling even as it heals shut. I whip the chains towards him again, wrapping it around his leg. He lunges for me again. I roll out of the way, pulling the slack out of the chain.

He trips, the crash rattling the entire bunker. I am launched into the air; the shackles snapping off my wrists. Nanomachines course through me, transforming my body into a living weapon—an elegant mixture of platinum and flesh opposed to my father—a colossal mass of blood and iron.

I come crashing down on him, my hands now adamantine claws that rip and tear, my tail a keen blade. He swipes at me with a clumsy fist. I leap away, twisting myself around and slicing through his arm, severing it at the elbow. Blood pours from the stump, soaking into the floor.

The door to the bunker bursts open. Dia and Eva jump through, shining and gleaming even in the dim light. My wolf has her twin lances, my lion her massive axe. The explosion distracts the beast that is my father. The three of us act without hesitation, digging claw, axe, and spear into him relentlessly. His regeneration knits his wounds back together, but not quickly enough. We overwhelm him with our combined might, removing limbs and puncturing organs.

In the end, he dies the same as everyone else—with a gurgle and a whimper.

“Here lies Cormac MacAirt, the immortal emperor.” I turn my back on his corpse. “Long may he rot.”

The fight now over, my body returns to normal, the exoskin seems to almost dissolve into me. There is a part of me that thought I might feel relief, or even regret, at the sight of him dead, but I feel… nothing. He is just another dead man. When my eyes fall upon my lovers, however, I feel elation at the thought of the days ahead of us.

Laoise and Sebille enter the broken bunker. When they lay eyes on my father, his dead and broken form, they embrace one another and kiss. That brings me joy, too. The shadow that man cast was long and dark—the galaxy is a brighter place for his absence. Father’s blood is fertilizer for a new, vibrant future.

Even vile soil can produce beautiful flowers.

“I’m going to the throne room.” I stride out of the bunker, my thoughts filled with what I might say.

The others follow behind, silently, as we head towards the final dissolution of the Fomorian Armory. The throne room is as I remember it, gaudy and tasteless. There are some royal guards here, tending to the wounded or gathering the dead. They look surprised when we emerge from the bunker, but they do not attack.

I ignore them, heading for the throne itself. Never have I dreamed of sitting where my father sat, looking out at people as if I am better than them. Dia watches from below, giving me a single nod of encouragement.

“Open a broadcast to all the Armory.”

A nearby guard obeys without question. I pause, allowing a moment for those across the stars to tune in. It’s custom that when the emperor addresses the people in this way, that all stop what they are doing.

“Citizens of the Fomorian Armory. This is my first and last address to you all as empress.” I take a breath, gathering my words, keenly aware that what I say now will shape the days ahead. “This throne represents your pain, the cruelty of your rulers, and has caused much of your suffering. I promise you a new age, one without rulers. The empire is dead.”

The guards look at one another hesitantly but otherwise do not act. I motion for Sebille and Laoise to join me. They walk up slowly, standing at my flanks.

“I give the floor to these two women. Some of you know who they are as leaders of the labor unions that fought for your rights.”

Another breath, nervousness rising in my chest.

“It is with great honor and pleasure I give the empire back to you, its people. The days ahead will be difficult. There will be those who try to sow discord and fill the vacuum left by this throne. That will not be tolerated. From today, we live in freedom.” I bow to the camera, to my people across the stars. “I am empress no more.”

My lovers embrace me as I return to them. Weariness takes hold. I lean on Dia’s shoulder to keep myself upright.

“You did well, Princess,” she says, running her fingers through my hair.

Eva nuzzles into my neck, her arms wrapping around my waist. “It’s over.”

Stress flows out of me like a river, exhaustion seeps into my bones. I wish I could sleep here and now, but there is still too much to be done. “I love you both.”

We stand there for a time, Sif taking a protective posture as we steal a moment for ourselves. I do not even hear Sebille and Laoise’s address to the people, though it seems their words sway even the guards.

For now, at least, there is calm.

---

The staff and soldiers abandoned the palace in the wake of our assault. Those who survived gathered and buried the dead. We have won the day and are now on our way home. Eva and Gráinne sleep peacefully in our bed aboard the Banféinní. The princess passed out almost as soon as her head hit the pillows and Eva was soon to follow.

Cats.

It is nice to be alone with my thoughts, to process what has just been done. The powers of the galaxy have realigned. What comes next is beyond my ability to calculate. What I do know, however, is that my crusade is far from over. M.E.T.A Corp, Blackstar Industries, and Titan Technologies all still stand, their people still suffer under the yoke of oppression. Still, in the end, they are merely corporate empires among the stars. Time, patience, and skill will see them all destroyed.

Cleopatra is who I fear the most.

A ping sounds in my ears, Hatsuko’s name flashes across my eyes. I cringe internally as I say, “Yo.”

“Hello, Diarmuid,” she says, her tone painfully neutral. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

I get up, moving across the room to put some distance between myself and my sleeping lovers. “Well, I’m very difficult to kill.”

“Smart ass,” she says. “I saw the news, heard about what you’ve done.”

“And?” I ask, preparing myself to get chewed out.

Hatsuko sighs, as she is wont to do when I annoy her. “I had a whole lecture planned, about how irresponsible you are and about the ramifications of this… but I know you are already stressing about them. Yelling at you would only make me feel better.” She pauses, the silence deafening. “What I will say instead: I owe you a drink and an apology.”

“You don’t,” I tell her. “In fact, this is weird… yell at me like I thought you were going to.”

She chuckles now, the sound frightening me considerably—she never laughs. “You proved me wrong, kid. You left me with a shitshow to manage and organize, to be sure, but you still proved me wrong. Come back to Earth soon.”

“We are,” I tell her. “I’m getting married, you know.”

“I’ve heard.”

It’s my turn to sigh now, which I do liberally to let her know she’s getting on my nerves. “Yes, you are invited.”

“Ah,” she says. “Was I ever not?”

“That’s not what I meant, Hatsuko.” I sigh again. “Besides, it’s not as if I could stop an admiral from doing what she’d like anyhow.”

“That’s true.” She chuckles again—I can hear the pleasure she is taking in my irritation. “One last thing, before I let you go. You can keep the ship. You’re going to need it for… whatever the fuck you plan to do next. Stay safe, Commander.”

“Am I being called to duty?” I furrow my brows. “I don’t recall coming off leave.”

“No,” she says firmly. “You are being supported.”

I chew on my lip for a moment, thinking of how to respond. “No strings, Hatsuko. I will just fucking nuke this ship if it comes with strings.”

“No strings, I promise.”

“So do I,” I tell her. “See you at the wedding.” I cut off the call.

My lovers, precious creatures they are, have not stirred from their sleep. I strip out of my clothes, haphazardly tossing them to the floor before getting into bed, entangling myself with the pair of sleeping beauties. Tomorrow, I will worry about how to take on the rest of the galaxy and the evilest woman I know. For now, anyway, there are no battles to fight. Right now, there are just two women whom I would do anything for in my bed.

“Hey,” Gráinne whispers, snuggling into me.

“Hi, Princess.”

She nuzzles her face into mine, tracing her hand over my neck. “Thank you, Dia,” she says.

“What for?” I stroke my fingers through her raven hair, kissing the top of her head.

“Keeping your promise—the one you made in my garden.”

-Fin-