Epilogue One Week Later
Epilogue
One Week Later
After months in Garlin, Mavis expected the Strall air to smother her, but when she and Arden stepped out of the train station and she took a deep breath, Arden’s arm tucked around her shoulders, she felt like she was finally home.
It was nearly midnight by the time the hired carriage dropped them off in front of Ryskamp House, and as Mavis looked up at the great, looming manor, she couldn’t help but think of the girl she’d been the first time she climbed the steps to the front door—desperate and angry, wearing a name and a dress that didn’t fit.
She remembered how Arden stood at the top, hand held out toward her and smile guileless.
Neither of them were those people anymore in a thousand different ways, but as they walked up the stairs together, Mavis realized she wouldn’t have had their lives unfold any differently.
“It’s in need of some repairs, and we’ll need to hire a new staff, of course,” Arden said as he fumbled for the key in his coat pocket.
When he found it, he pushed the door open with a loud creak that echoed through the foyer.
A small mountain of letters had amassed behind the door, and while Mavis suspected most of them were overdue bills they could see to tomorrow, her eyes caught on a familiar red leather box on top of the pile, the size of a walnut.
She crouched down to pick it up as Arden continued.
“There are twelve bedrooms, plus almost as many parlors and sitting rooms. I thought we could use them for the urchins you mentioned.”
Mavis froze, her hand grasping the box, and looked up at Arden. “The urchins,” she said slowly. Surely he didn’t mean . . .
She’d told Arden about her plan to buy out as many urchins’ contracts as she could from Minstead, in addition to her own and the Hartweillers’, and while he’d been supportive of the idea, she hadn’t expected him to go this far.
She straightened up, staring at Arden. “You’d let a bunch of strange Low City ragamuffin children into your home? To live?” She couldn’t keep the skepticism from leaking into her voice.
Arden smiled, his twilight-blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Our home,” he corrected. “My aunt tasked us with creating a worthy legacy, and turning Ryskamp House into a home for children in need seems like a good place to start.”
Mavis couldn’t find the words to reply. Home was never something she’d had before—a luxury more priceless than all the jewels in the world and so far out of her reach she hadn’t dared let herself wish for it—and here Arden was, offering it to her without reservation or demand.
Not only that, he was offering it to the urchins, to the children who were all rough edges and hunger, desperate and forgotten, like she’d been once.
She stared at Arden, joy and love and hope filling her chest until she felt like she might float, but after a brief silence, his smile faltered.
“Unless you don’t think—”
Mavis cut him off with a kiss, throwing herself into his arms. He caught her with a laugh and spun them around, pressing her against the wall and kissing her deeper until Mavis felt dizzy and sparks danced before her eyes.
She forgot all about the box until it slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor, landing at Arden’s feet.
He pulled back, his eyes going to the box. “What’s that?” He crouched to pick it up.
Mavis watched him turn the box over in his hands, brow furrowed. “Rafe and Leif must have dropped it off—don’t you recognize it?”
Arden rose to stand, but when he lifted the top of the box, his expression cleared. Inside was a ring nestled on a bed of velvet, a polished silver band set with an emerald flanked by two solitaire-cut diamonds. It looked exactly the same as it had five years ago when he slipped it onto her finger.
“You kept it?” he asked, his voice coming out hoarse.
“I sold all the others. But I couldn’t sell this one.”
Arden smiled, taking the ring out of the box and reaching for her hand. “Because it’s yours. It always has been and it always will be—just like me. Will you have me?”
Mavis’s cheeks ached from smiling. She reached for him, her mouth catching his in another kiss.
“I’ll have you, Arden Ryskamp,” she whispered against his lips as he slipped the ring onto her finger.
Mavis remembered what he’d told her back in Garlin, the words that unraveled her and made her feel seen, truly, for the first time in her life.
She gave them back to him now, punctuating each word with another kiss.
“Every facet, every version, every angle.”