“Yes, dear?”
“If you stop talking, you can have muffin later.”
“How many muffins.”
“The full batch.”
“That’s code for sex,” I said to Morgan. “Do not go to their bakery.”
Morgan covered his eyes with his hand and sighed.
We arrived at the castle gates without incident. The castle had never looked more beautiful. I had to stop myself from running full tilt toward it and hugging the stone walls. I didn’t think Morgan would appreciate that.
“Well,” Pete said, grinning widely. “Look who’s strolling in triumphantly.”
“Is there any other way to stroll?” I asked. “If there is, I don’t know about it.”
He pulled me in for a manly hug, patting my back three times and pulling away to grasp my forearms. “It’s good to have you back, kiddo,” he said. “It’s been awfully quiet while you’ve been away.”
“Can’t have that,” I said. “You keep everyone safe while I was gone?”
He rolled his eyes. “You know me. Fending off assassins and Darks left and right.”
“I knew I could count on you,” I said with a wink.
“Go on. Get out of here. We’ll catch up later.”
He understood, Pete did. He could probably see I was practically vibrating out of my skin. I had most of my family around me, but not the two who’d brought me into this world. And not my King. I needed to see them before I truly felt at peace. I didn’t even think about Justin and Ryan then. I didn’t care. I just wanted the last pieces of my puzzle put back together.
The gates rose at
Pete’s signal, and even before they’d cleared my chest, I was under them, not caring about decorum or my place.
The knights lined the walkway, standing at attention. Flags rippled in the breeze. The sun shone down from above. Morgan called from behind me, saying my name, telling me to slow down, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t because I could see them. Waiting for me. My mother was talking with the King, my father standing at her side. The King said something to make her laugh, and I could hear it above all the noise and was reminded of growing up in the slums, of our little house where she would tend to her flowers and sing gypsy songs in a tongue that sounded of skylarks. There were others there too, but they were the only three I saw.
My father saw me first. One minute he was smiling faintly as his gaze wandered, and the next it stuttered and cracked as his eyes met mine. I saw his mouth move, and I knew, I just knew he’d said my name in that quiet voice of his because my mother stopped midsentence and looked at him, then out at me.
And she cried, “Sam!”
I ran.
I ran because I was home and they were my family.
I ran because I hadn’t seen them in over two months.
I ran because I had gone out into the world with hopes and secrets and had returned with nerves exposed and skin twitching.
They laughed when they held me. Then we cried. My father’s hand went to the back of my head, and my mother’s nose brushed my cheek. My father said, “There you are,” because he could, and my mother said, “My little boy,” because I was.
I didn’t want to let them go.
And so I didn’t. For a time.
Then, “Sam.”
My King.
I pulled myself away from my parents and turned to the Good King. He wore a quiet smile, one tinged with worry and sadness. I didn’t like seeing that on him, so I schooled my face as best I could so he couldn’t see the same mirrored in my own. I’d done what he asked of me. I might not have been his wizard, but he was still my friend. I couldn’t blame him for anything.