House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City #3) by Sarah J. Maas

But there would be joy to light the dark memories. When he’d gone with her to return the boys to their parents, Ruhn had been content to watch the happy reunion, especially as Lidia was hugged with equal welcome and love by the boys’ parents. As the boys had, in their own ways, made it clear that Lidia would be welcome in their lives.

Brann, he had no doubt, would be the easier one. But Ace …

Ruhn smiled to himself at the memory of how Ace had looked over at Ruhn before leaving, his dark eyes knowing. Sharp. As if to say, Take care of my mom.

Ruhn had answered into the kid’s mind, She can take care of herself, but I will.

Ace’s eyes had widened in shock, and he’d stumbled a step, but—with an assessing, impressed glance at Ruhn—had continued to the transport pod.

Ruhn and Lidia had spent one night in his shithole house, aching to fuck each other within an inch of their lives but all too conscious of his friends a thin wall away, before he’d called up a realtor and asked about finding an apartment. Immediately. With a few specific requests.

“The bedroom over there’s got two beds in it,” he said, pointing across the great room. “For your boys.”

Her eyes were lined with silver as she faced the guest bedroom.

That had been Ruhn’s main demand to the realtor: find an apartment with a guest room that had two beds. “They can visit whenever they—and you—want.”

Her smile was so soft and hopeful that his heart ached. But she walked to the couch in front of the TV and sat down, as if testing it out. Testing out this house, this life.

“I think their dads will want to keep them close for a while after what happened,” Lidia said, “but yes … I would love for them to be here sometimes.”

Ruhn sank beside her on the couch. “They’re going to raise Hel when they’re older.”

“I’m fine with that, so long as it’s not literally.” Lidia sighed. “I’ve had enough of demons for a while, however friendly.”

Ruhn chuckled. “Me too.”

For a few minutes, they sat in companionable silence, the apartment—their apartment—settling in around them.

“I can’t believe we’re alive,” Lidia said at last.

“I can’t believe the Asteri are gone.”

The past few days had been such a whirlwind that he hadn’t really processed all that had happened. Or the current state of the world.

Lidia said carefully, “Your sister and Athalar’s intentions are good, but it’s going to take a lot more than one meeting with a bunch of world leaders to sort out an entirely new system of government. Or dismantle slavery.”

“I know. Bryce knows.”

“Are you … What do you plan to do?”

It was a loaded question, but Ruhn answered, “I’ll help her. I’ll head up the Aux with Holstrom, I guess. Since the Fae throne’s gone as of this morning.” It had been a wonder to behold—Bryce standing in front of the crowd of cameras and nobles, ending the monarchies with a stroke of a pen. Their father’s favorite pen, no less.

Ruhn had never been so proud to be Bryce’s brother.

He smiled slightly. “The Oracle was right in a lot of ways, I guess.” Lidia lifted a brow. “It wasn’t just that the crown would go to Bryce, but that she’d end it. The Danaan royal line is finished.”

Lidia clicked her tongue. “You’re not dead or childless, after all.”

“Not yet,” Ruhn said, laughing again. All that time spent dreading the prophecy, worrying over his fate …

Lidia looked at him, in that way that no one else on Midgard did—like she saw him. “Are you prepared to not be a prince anymore, though? To be … normal?”

“I think so,” he said, nudging her knee with his own. “Are you?”

“I have no idea. I don’t even know what normal is,” Lidia admitted.

Ruhn took her hand, linking their fingers. “How about we figure it out together, then?”

“How to be normal?”

“How to live a normal life. The normal, adult apartment’s a good start. For both of us.” No more veritable frat house living.

But wariness flooded her eyes. “My life is complicated.”

“Whoever said normal isn’t complicated?” he countered. “All I know is that whatever tomorrow or next year or the next millennium has in store for this world, I want to face it at your side.”

Her expression softened. She leaned closer, brushing a strand of his hair back with her free hand.

They weren’t the Hind and a Crown Prince of the Fae. Weren’t Day and Night. Right then, there, they were simply Lidia and Ruhn. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

But Ruhn got to his feet and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge. The other request he’d made of the realtor: stock the fridge with one thing and one thing only.

Maybe the veritable frat house wasn’t entirely gone. He walked back to the couch and handed Lidia a beer.

“As promised, Day,” he said, twisting off the cap on his bottle. “One beer.”

She looked at the bottle, pure delight shining on her face. She twisted the cap off her own beverage, but got to her feet and clinked her bottle against his before drinking. “To a normal life, Ruhn.”