Thank you.
I bowed before the statue of Elohios and stood, meeting Greaves’ questioning gaze as he helped replace the mantle. My mouth was dry, and I wasn’t about to share my thoughts with him here, not now.
A drift of feminine voices reached me on the wind. The cadence almost sounded like Nienna.
She hadn’t shied away from her duty or Radaan’s people, but court was wearing her thin. I saw it in the furrow of her brow, the way her gaze often drifted, distant and tired. The loss of her maid only added to her burden.
The thought of Claydon’s mountain manor gnawed at me. Perhaps an escape from the palace would offer her respite, but there was also risk. She didn’t know Clay as I did, and around him, she would feel the need to wear her mask. She might not relax. And if Egath was there…
I couldn’t let him go. Not if there was a chance he was tied to the attempt on her life. I’d keep him confined to his rooms and the gardens.
Greaves stepped back, grimacing at my bloodied face. Another drop fell onto the mantle’s chain. “Priest,” he barked, jaw clenched.
A man emerged from the shadows, ready to assist. The public temples were just beyond the palace walls, their offices tucked inside the thick barrier.
His red robes whispered as he darted into the alcove, returning with a basin of water and a white cloth. His young features twisted with a mix of horror and fear.
I cleaned my face, pressing the damp fabric to my nose. The flow stopped, and I exhaled in relief. It wasn’t an ailment—it was a sign.
“My thanks, priest,” I murmured, dipping the cloth into the bowl of pink-tinged water. “Dilute it further, then dispose of it in the sewers.”
I wouldn’t take any chances with blood on palace grounds.
My frown deepened as my lips formed a tight line. Surely, the staff were handling Nienna’s cycle with care. I forbid women on the battlefield for a reason. But with Egath within our walls, I had to ensure her cloths were burned, not discarded.
The bright sun made me squint as I looked down the path. Black armor absorbed the sunlight, reflecting none as a Thresher stood sentinel before the temple of Veridis.
Curiosity tugged at me. Instead of returning to the palace, I headed toward him. Threshers had been assigned to the most vital nobles since the failed attackon Nienna. I didn’t know this one personally, but I needed to see if she was among them.
I passed the temple of life, casting a brief glance inside.
The princess knelt on the stone floor, her deep blue dress spread over a white fur. Her golden hair tumbled in waves, obscuring her face. Fyrn knelt beside her, hands clasped, head lowered in prayer.
A quiet relief settled in my chest. Perhaps she was seeking solace from the goddess, hoping to heal her grief. A Draconis princess, bowing in a Radaanian temple… The two priestesses watching from the alcove would be quick to spread the word. Nienna had chosen a god.
I ran a hand through my hair, thoughts churning as I walked. She was winning the hearts of my people, one moment at a time. Her presence at the council, her resilience after the attack, and now this—Radaan would be eating from her hands.
She was cunning. I expected a bride from Draconia—a princess—who would know her place and duty. But she’d never before left Draconis’ shores. I thought she would take time to learn our culture, the ways of my people. I anticipated mistakes, moments where I’d have to cover for her, guide her.
Instead, I found myself picking up the pieces from Tallon, while she proved she was more than worthy of being Radaan’s queen.
An image of her sitting on the throne, draped in the queen’s mantle, burned through my thoughts. Her chin held high with pride, yet her grin would soften, warm, for her people. She would rule with fairness, blending kindness with justice. Elohios would smile upon her reign.
Gods, she would be a stunning queen—fierce. Beautiful.
A wave of heat swept through me, and I gripped my sword’s pommel, fists clenched. She would be the envy of every nation.
But she would rule at Tallon’s side.
Fury flared deep within. Life’s unfairness still baffled me. How had I been so oblivious to Eldeiade? My youth had blinded me then—my naïve belief that she sought what was best for Radaan. Then she went and spawned a twin soul in Tallon.
I could only hope Nienna had more courage than I did, that she would face him head-on. I had been a coward with the late queen, avoiding her, letting her live her life separate from mine. All she craved was to be admired and served. She wanted nothing to do with the mantle, and I refused to let her out of the palace without it. It was too important to the realm—to us. The throne was no glory; it was a duty. A weight.
Nienna would shoulder that burden willingly, serving the people with both protection and provision.
Tallon, however, would not.
I drew in a shaky breath, aching to meet the princess after her prayer.
