“What are you doing?” Lou eyed me suspiciously from the table. “You need to be nice to Pan.”

“I’m always nice to—”

“You’re ringing his bell.”

“Isn’t that why it’s here?”

“He isn’t a cat, Reid,” Beau said with a smirk.

“It’s rude to ring the bell,” Coco agreed.

Lou nodded. “Also annoying.”

“Very,” Beau said.

I grimaced at them all. “I am trying to purchase us sticky buns.” To Lou, I grumbled, “I think I owe you one, in particular.”

Her face cleared instantly, and she leaned forward with bright eyes, knitting her fingers together atop the table. “Have I told you today how absolutely and completely attractive I find your ass?”

I snorted just as Pan strode into view. Scowling, he snatched the bell from his counter. “What is it? What do you want? Can you not see I am closed for business?” He gestured a wild hand at the window. “There was a war, young man. Wake up!” When he snapped his fingers beneath my nose, I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “We cannot all cower and tremble, forsaking our loved ones. Oh no! Some of us must protect this great kingdom of ours. You treat our fair Lucida like a princess now, yes?”

I cast a scathing look over my shoulder. Both Beau’s and Coco’s shoulders shook with laughter. Lou gazed back at me with a perfectly placid expression. She batted her lashes. “Like a queen,” I said wryly.

Pan frowned at me as if considering. “Very well. I shall make you the sticky buns”—he snapped his fingers again—“but you shall pay full price.”

I flashed a hard smile. “Thanks.”

Back at the table, Lou pressed her foot over mine. “A truly spectacular ass.”

A moment of silence stretched between us. Then another. Outside, Father Achille still coordinated with Jean Luc. With Célie. They’d sent word to neighboring villages for supplies. For healers. Two had survived Morgane’s attack on the Tower, but they needed medical treatment themselves. At least, I thought they’d said two. Behind the counter, Pan bustled ostentatiously, banging every pot and slamming every utensil. “Double price,” he’d muttered at one point.

At last, Beau heaved a shattered sigh. His smirk had faded. His eyes gleamed anew. “What are we supposed to do now? The cathedral is destroyed. The castle too, by the looks of it. The Archbishop is dead, the king is dead, La Dame des Sorcières is dead—er, the old one, anyway.” He shot Lou an apologetic glance.

She shrugged stiffly, tracing the lines on my palm. “The Chateau remains standing. I suppose it’s mine now. We can . . . live there.” Her eyes flashed to Coco. “All of us.”

A wide smile spread across Coco’s face. “I don’t think Father Achille will give us any trouble.”

“If he’s elected.”

“He will be,” Beau said. “Father Gaspard nearly pissed down his leg when Morgane showed up. He’s a politician.” He jerked his head to the window. To Father Achille. “Not a leader.”

“Are you a leader, Beau?” Coco asked quietly.

He studied her for a moment, his lips pursed. Undecided. “I don’t know yet.”

She smirked at him. “We have that in common.”

“You can say that again,” Lou muttered. “I couldn’t manage an attic, let alone a fucking castle.”

We lapsed into silence until Célie poked her head into the patisserie once more. With a quick wave, she motioned me forward. I kissed Lou’s hand before rising to meet her. Jean Luc stood on the other side of the door. Leaning past me, he pushed it closed behind us, and Célie—she actually bounced on the balls of her feet. “I have something for you.” She spoke over me before I could answer. “When Jean Luc stole your items from the Tower, I chose not to keep it with the rest—your bandolier and knives and such—because it looked too important. I didn’t want you to lose it in the heat of the battle.”

Jean Luc nodded. “I told her it belonged to your mother.”

Realization sparked. Anticipation.

“Of course, when Lou enchanted our clothing, I thought I’d lost it.” She shook her head, grinning but frazzled. Reaching into the band at her waist, she extracted a familiar ring with a thin golden band and mother-of-pearl stone. It gleamed even in the grayish light. Her smile widened as she placed it in my hand. “Here. Do as you wish with it. It’s yours.”

I stared down at it in wonder. Warmth radiated through me at the point of contact. My heart pounded. “Thank you, Célie.”

“That isn’t all.” Jean Luc touched the hilt of the Balisarda in my bandolier. Its sapphire winked through the leather. “I spoke with Father Achille. We agreed, both of us—you have a place within our ranks if you want it. That Balisarda is yours.”

The happiness in my chest punctured slightly. But—no. I wouldn’t let it. Not this time. Unsheathing the Balisarda with one hand, I extended it to Célie. “I think there are others better suited.” When her fingers curled around it, her eyes widening in shock, I said, “Two clever little girls once told me they wished to be huntsmen. Not as they are now, but as they should be: proper knights riding forth to vanquish evil. Defending the land and protecting the innocent. One of them even swore she’d wear a dress.”

“Oh, I can’t”—she shook her head swiftly, attempting to return the Balisarda—“I don’t know how to wield a sword. I couldn’t possibly use this.”

“You don’t need to wield a sword to protect the innocent, Célie,” Jean Luc said, nodding to me in appreciation. In respect. He glowed with pride as he looked at her. “You’ve proven that more than anyone.”

I nodded too, stepping away from the door. Opening it wide. “The Tower is broken. It’s time to rebuild.”

She flashed a tentative smile before Jean Luc swept her through it.

I didn’t follow. Not right away. Instead I stared at the ring in my hand.

“What are you doing out here?” Lou touched my shoulder, and I turned, tucking the ring into my pocket. She looked left and right with a pointed smirk. “Having fun with all your friends?”

At her inquisitive gaze, I couldn’t help it. A broad smile split my own face, and I kissed her full on the mouth. When I pulled back, she flicked my nose before soothing the spot with her thumb, her hand lingering on my cheek. “Come back inside. Pan says the sticky buns are done.”