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with black slacks and jacket. Abe was . . . well, Abe. He had on a black pinstripe suite, with a black dress shirt underneath. Splashed

against the darkness was a bright, lemon-yellow paisley tie. A matching handkerchief peeped out one of the jacket's pockets. Along

with his gold earrings and chains, he also wore a black fedora, which was a new addition to his outlandish wardrobe. I guess he

wanted to go all out for an event like this, and at least it wasn't a pirate hat.

"Don't blame us," said my mother. "We didn't blow up half of Court, steal a dozen cars, call out a murderer in the middle of a crowd,

or get our teenage friend crowned queen."

"Actually," said Abe, "I did blow up half of Court."

My mom ignored him, her expression softening as she studied me with her guardian eyes. "Seriously . . . how are you feeling?" I'd

seen them only briefly in the days since waking up, just enough for us all to check in on each other. "You're doing an awful lot of

standing today. And I've already told Hans not to put you on active duty for a while."

It was one of the most motherly things I'd ever heard her say. "I . . . I'm fine. A lot better. I could go on active duty right now."

"You will do no such thing," she said, in exactly the tone she'd use giving orders to a troop of guardians.

"Stop coddling her, Janine."

"I'm not coddling her! I'm looking out for her. You're spoiling her."

I looked back and forth at them in amazement. I didn't know if I was witnessing a fight or foreplay. I wasn't thrilled about either option.

"Okay, okay, just back off you guys. I survived, right? That's what counts."

"It is," said Abe. He suddenly seemed very fatherly, which weirded me out even more than my mom's behavior. "And despite the

property damage and string of broken laws left in your wake, I'm proud of you." I suspected that secretly, he was proud of me because

of those things. My cynical interior commentary was brought to a halt when my mom concurred.

"I'm proud too. Your methods were . . . not ideal, but you did a great thing. Great things, really. Finding both the murderer and Jill." I

noticed her careful wording of "the murderer." I think it was still hard for all of us to accept the truth about Tasha. "A lot will change

because of Jill."

All of us looked over at the foot of the throne. Ekaterina stood on one side, ready with the book of royal vows. The other side was

where members of the monarch's family stood—but only one lone person was there. Jill. Someone had done a great job of cleaning

her up. Her curly hair had been elaborately styled and pinned, and she wore a knee-length sheath dress with a wide portrait style

collar, just barely showing off her shoulders. The dress's cut made the most of her lanky figure, and the dark green satin looked great

with her features. She was standing straight, chin high, but there was anxiety all over her, made more obvious by her being so

conspicuously alone.

I glanced back at Abe, who met my eyes expectantly. I had a lot of questions for him, and he was one of the few who might tell me

the truth. The decision was: which question to ask? It was like having a genie. I'd only get so many wishes.

"What will happen to Jill?" I asked at last. "Will she just go back to school? Are they going to train her to be a princess?" Lissa

couldn't be both princess and queen, so her old title went to the next-oldest member of her family.

Abe didn't answer for several moments. "Until Lissa can get the law changed—and hopefully, she will—Jill is all that allows her to

keep her throne. If something happens to Jill, Lissa will no longer be queen. So. What would you do?"

"I'd keep her safe."

"Then you have your answer."

"It's kind of a broad one," I said. "‘Safe' means a lot of things."

"Ibrahim," warned my mother. "Enough. This isn't the time or place."

Abe held my gaze a bit longer and then broke into an easy smile. "Of course, of course. This is a family gathering. A celebration.

And look: here's our newest member."

Dimitri had joined us and wore black and white like my mother and me. He stood beside me, conspicuously not touching. "Mr.

Mazur," he said formally, nodding a greeting to both of them. "Guardian Hathaway." Dimitri was seven years older than me, but right

then, facing my parents, he looked like he was sixteen and about to pick me up for a date.

"Ah, Belikov," said Abe, shaking Dimitri's hand. "I'd been hoping we'd run into each other. I'd really like to get to know you better.

Maybe we can set aside some time to talk, learn more about life, love, et cetera. Do you like to hunt? You seem like a hunting man.

That's what we should do sometime. I know a great spot in the woods. Far, far away. We could make a day of it. I've certainly got a lot

of questions I'd like to ask you. A lot of things I'd like to tell you too."

I shot a panicked look at my mother, silently begging her to stop this. Abe had spent a good deal of time talking to Adrian when we

dated, explaining in vivid and gruesome detail exactly how Abe expected his daughter to be treated. I did not want Abe taking Dimitri

off alone into the wilderness, especially if firearms were involved.

"Actually," said my mom casually. "I'd like to come along. I also have a number of questions—especially about when you two were

back at St. Vladimir's."

"Don't you guys have somewhere to be?" I asked hastily. "We're about to start."

That, at least, was true. Nearly everyone was in formation, and the crowd was quieting. "Of course," said Abe. To my astonishment,

he brushed a kiss over my forehead before stepping away. "I'm glad you're back." Then, with a wink, he said to Dimitri: "Looking

forward to our chat."

"Run," I said when they were gone. "If you slip out now, maybe they won't notice. Go back to Siberia."

"Actually," said Dimitri, "I'm pretty sure Abe would notice. Don't worry, Roza. I'm not afraid. I'll take whatever heat they give me over

being with you. It's worth it."

"You really are the bravest man I know," I told him.

He smiled, his eyes falling on a small commotion at the room's entrance. "Looks like she's ready," he murmured.

"I hope I am," I whispered back.

In true grandiose fashion, a herald brought the room to attention. Perfect silence fell. You couldn't even hear breathing.

The herald stepped back from the door. "Princess Vasilisa Sabina Rhea Dragomir."

Lissa entered, and even though I'd seen her less than half an hour ago, I still caught my breath. She was wearing a formal gown but

had once again dodged sleeves. No doubt the dress-maker had had a fit. The dress was floor-length, with a skirt of silk and chiffon

layers that moved and fluttered around Lissa as she strode forward. The fabric was the same jade as her eyes, as was the dress's

top, with a halter collar covered in emeralds that gave the illusion of a necklace. Matching emeralds covered the dress's belt, and

bracelets completed the display. Her hair was worn long, brushed out to gleaming, platinum perfection, an aura unto itself.

Christian walked beside her, a sharp contrast with his black hair and dark suit. Customs were being modified significantly today

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since a family member normally would have escorted Lissa, but . . . well, she was kind of running out. Even I had to admit he looked

amazing, and his pride and love for her shone on his face—no matter what troubled feelings stirred within him over Tasha. Lord Ozera,

I remembered. I had a feeling that title would become more and more important now. He led Lissa to the base of the throne and then

joined the Ozera delegation in the crowd.

Ekaterina made a small gesture to a large satin pillow on the floor in front of the steps. "Kneel."

There was the briefest hesitation on Lissa's part, one I think only I noticed. Even without the bond, I was so attuned to her mood and

tiniest actions that I could pick up on these things. Her eyes had gone to Jill. Lissa's expression didn't change, and it was so strange

not to know her feelings. I could make some educated guesses. Uncertainty. Confusion.

Again—the pause was only a moment long. Lissa knelt, artfully spreading her skirts around her as she did. Ekaterina had always

seemed so frail and wizened in that testing room, but as she stood there with the ancient Moroi coronation book, I could sense a

power still within the former queen.

The book was in Romanian, but Ekaterina translated it effortlessly as she read aloud, beginning with a speech about what was

expected of a monarch and then going to the vows Lissa had to swear to.

"Will you serve?"

"Will you protect your people?"

"Will you be just?"

There were twelve in all, and Lissa had to answer "I will" three times to each one: in English, in Russian, and in Romanian. Not

having the bond to confirm her feelings was still so strange, but I could see on her face that she meant every word she said. When that

part finished, Ekaterina cued Jill forward. Since I'd last noticed the girl, someone had given her the crown to hold. It had been custommade

for Lissa, a masterpiece of white and yellow gold intertwined with emeralds and diamonds. It complemented her outfit

beautifully, and, I noticed with a start, Jill did too.

Another tradition was that the monarch was crowned by a family member, and this was what Jill had been saved for. I could see her

hands tremble as she laid the bejeweled wonder on her sister's head, and their gazes met briefly. A flash of troubled emotions swirled

in Lissa's eyes once more, gone quickly as Jill stepped back and the weight of the ceremony took precedence.

Ekaterina held out her hand to Lissa. "Rise," she said. "You will never kneel to anyone again." Holding Lissa's hand, Ekaterina

turned so that they both faced the rest of us in the room. With a voice startling for her small body, Ekaterina declared, "Queen Vasilisa

Sabina Rhea Dragomir, first of her name."

Everyone in the room—except Ekaterina—dropped to their knees, heads bowed. Only a few seconds passed before Lissa said,

"Rise." I'd been told this was at the monarch's discretion. Some new kings and queens enjoyed making others kneel for a long time.

Paperwork followed, which we all watched dutifully as well. Basically, it was Lissa signing to say she'd been made queen while

Ekaterina and a couple witnesses signed that they'd seen Lissa made queen. Three copies were on the ornate paper Moroi royalty so

loved. One was plain white letterhead, which would go to the Alchemists.

When the signing was done, Lissa took her place on the throne, and seeing her ascend those stairs was breathtaking, an image

that would stay with me for the rest of my life. The room broke out into cheers and clapping as she settled into the ornate chair. Even

the guardians, who normally stayed so deadly serious, joined in the applause and celebration. Lissa smiled at everyone, hiding

whatever anxiety she felt.

She scanned the room, and her grin broadened when she saw Christian. She then sought me out. Her smile for him had been

affectionate; mine was a bit humorous. I smiled back, wondering what she would say to me if she could.

"What's so funny?" asked Dimitri, looking down at me with amusement.

"I'm just thinking about what Lissa would say if we still had the bond."

In a very bad breach of guardian protocol, he caught a hold of my hand and pulled me toward him. "And?" he asked, wrapping me in

an embrace.

"I think she'd ask, ‘What have we gotten ourselves into?'"

"What's the answer?" His warmth was all around me, as was his love, and again, I felt that completeness. I had that missing piece of

my world back. The soul that complemented mine. My match. My equal. Not only that, I had my life back—my own life. I would protect

Lissa, I would serve, but I was finally my own person.

"I don't know," I said, leaning against his chest. "But I think it's going to be good."

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AcknowleAcknowledgementsdgements

AcknowlAcknowleedgementsdgements

First and foremost, thank you to all of the loyal and enthusiastic readers around the world who have accompanied Rose and me

throughout the series. I couldn't have made this journey without you and hope you'll continue to enjoy the many Moroi and

dhampir adventures to come.

Thank you also to all of the friends and family who have supported me—especially my husband, who continually amazes me

with his patience, love, and ability to live with the ups and downs of a "creative type." A special shout-out also goes to Jesse

McGatha for creating the forest riddle, something I could never have come up with, let alone solve.

And as always, I 'm grateful to the publishing folks who work behind the scenes to make these books happen: Jim McCarthy

—my agent, occasional therapist, and non-stop advocate; Lauren Abramo, who keeps finding more countries I've never heard of

to send Rose to; Jessica Rothenberg and Ben Schrank, editors extraordinaire whom I 'm pretty sure forego food and sleep to

perfect these books; and publicist Casey McIntyre, who organizes my tours and interviews, with great care to arrange them around

my hair appointments.

A final thanks to all the others who work on this series at Penguin Books, Dystel & Goderich Literary Management, and my

international publishers. There are far too many of you to list, but all of you are essential in telling Rose 's story. Thank you.

VAMPIRE ACADEMY novels by Richelle Mead: