Elias spent an hour in his chambers showering, changing, and recovering. He allowed his memory to completely fill in, including all the things that had happened while he was wasn’t himself.

The trip to Macor was a sore spot, if only for the fact that he hadn’t been able to help in the normal ways he would have otherwise. In hindsight, he would have come to the conclusion of a hidden assassin within the ranks much sooner, possibly preventing the scenario that had played out.

A scenario that had almost taken his life.

He’d gotten lucky.

By the time he pulled on black suit slacks and a steel-gray button-down, he felt as if he’d regained the whole of himself. The memory of a charred body he’d thought to be Sander left a scar on his heart, but he knew he would recover from that eventually, too.

Armored with confidence and conviction, he departed his suite and headed downstairs.

The elated cheer that erupted when he walked into the parlor brought a grin to his mouth. He greeted every single person with a hug—the women got kisses to their cheeks—and laughter at the teasing banter that wasn’t far behind. He made amends with Jeremiah, lamenting his lack of friendship during the amnesia trip, and was relieved when Jeremiah showed no signs of affront or upset. Like his mother and father had suggested, everyone understood that it hadn’t been his fault.

He hadn’t been cold and untouchable on purpose.

Elias spent two hours poring over details of the attempted coup and agreed that the media should never know the sordid truth. He also agreed to go on camera at the earliest opportunity to prove to the world that he was whole and hale and ready to resume his status as heir to the throne.

Emily took everything in stride. She was not bitter whatsoever at having the title stripped and, in fact, seemed wholly delighted just to have her brother back.

The jubilant atmosphere lasted until Elias decided he couldn’t put off finding Inari any longer.

He made his goodbyes and departed the parlor, anxious to mend his relationship before his former behavior drove a permanent wedge between them.

Inari was not to be found.

Not in her suite, in any of the parlors or sitting rooms, or even in the solarium.

Elias searched every floor of Kallaster but did not locate her anywhere. In his quest, he avoided questions by councilmen and advisors alike. Now wasn’t the time to engage the men in endless conversation.

He discovered from a member of the staff that Inari had left the castle on foot for parts unknown.

Elias took a chance and headed across the bailey to the gate.

From there, according to the guards, Inari had disappeared somewhere in the direction of the shoreline.

He followed the path away from the bailey wall toward the private beach, scanning the area for signs of life. It wasn’t until he reached the sand that he spotted a lone figure walking at the edge of the waterline. The sun glinted off a head of tawny hair, giving away the identity immediately. He would have recognized her anywhere.

Elias set a pace along the shoreline in her wake, taking his time playing catch-up. He lamented the cast on his wrist that prevented him from sliding his hands into his pockets, and decided he should try to get the offending plaster off as soon as possible.

Less than twenty feet before he reached her, Inari suddenly turned around. Elias drew to a halt and smiled. He knew Inari would figure out that his memory had returned, that the smile was meant as an invitation and an olive branch.

She gasped and covered her heart with her fingers. “Elias?”

“Hello, Inari.”

“You remember!” She flew across the sand, a squeal echoing into the day.

Elias laughed and opened his arms to receive her. “It’s very un-queenly to squeal, Inari. What would your father say?”

“I don’t care!” She launched herself into his embrace with a delighted laugh.

Elias held her with his good arm and swung her in a circle. He felt more in control of his own body, as if everything was completely back in sync.

“I guess I’ll file that away to use as blackmail,” he said, continuing the tease. He kissed her soundly, reveling in the affection blooming bright in his chest. The emptiness and lack of emotion during his stint with amnesia was a condition he’d rather forget. Being unable to experience true happiness, joy, sorrow, and love had worn his soul thin near the end.

She kissed him again, palms cupping his cheeks. “That’s all right. I have a ton of blackmail on you, too, Elias Ahtissari.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.” Amused, he loosened his grip enough that her feet hit the sand. “I wanted to apologize for my treatment of you during the recovery. I should have tried harder to bridge the awkward gaps.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Elias. Really. It was hard, I won’t lie, but I also understood. As much as I could, anyway.”

“Excellent. I intend to make it up to you, so there’s that.” He aimed for levity rather than somber promises.

She laughed, confirming he’d made the right choice.

“And when do you plan to start?” she asked.

“How about right now?”