“I don’t. But if it’s been so long since you’ve heard from her—we’re heading to your family manor in two days’ time. I’d like you to come along.”
A flicker of something foreign tugged at the corners of her mouth before she masked it. My smile remained steady, but unease coiled in my gut. Claydon was as fair as any man. Why would she distance herself from her own family?
“We’ll stay a week, then return to Reem as planned. I’m sure the princess would enjoy your company.”
I would appreciate the added witness, a shield to keep me from indulging any foolish fantasies.
“Of course, Your Majesty.” She nodded and flashed a quick smile at Nienna, who I assumed would be pleased. The two were constant companions—when the princess wasn’t slipping away unnoticed.
With Fyrn’sol at the manor, my temptation would be eased. The pull of desire, always lurking, would be lessened.
I could rest easy now.
There would be no resting. My hand settled against my thigh, a forced gesture of ease. Tension knotted in my shoulders beneath the mantle, but I kept my hips loose, moving in rhythm with my stallion.
Nienna rode beside me, in Greaves’ usual place. As princess, she should have been behind me, alongside Fyrn, as we left Reem.
Unfortunately, the woman fell ill this morning. I inquired after her, hoping to delay our trip for her. The healers were uncertain whether it was something she ate or some minor plague, but unless I wanted Nienna trapped with someone vomiting their every meal, we had to leave without her.
When the princess arrived in the courtyard, reaffirming her choice to ride astride, a weight lifted from my chest. Riding horseback was grueling, but pulling a carriage up the mountainside was nearly impossible.
She hesitated before the white gelding, biting her lip in a rare show of nerves. Swallowing my pride, I offered her a hand up. She trembled under my touch as I slid her boot into the stirrup, my fingers brushing her calf before I let go.
A rush of memories flooded in—the library…
Her dress parted around her breeches, her skirts fanning over the gelding’s rump. Black-clad legs emerged, the tight fabric outlining her form.
The sight of her brought an uncomfortable reminder of my own constricting trousers.
Despite the discomfort, a smile tugged at my lips. The people of Radaan had heard of our journey, tossing flowers beneath our horses’ hooves. Citizens cheered, calling me by my titles—King Kallias, King of the Plentiful Plains. Golden Warrior of Elohios. Warrior of Sun and Spear.
But what warmed me most was the way they greeted Nienna.
“Blessed be Princess Nienna, The Dragon’s Heart!”
“Long live Nienna of Draconia, loved of Veridis!”
Either the priestesses or Fyrn had spread word of her multiple visits to the temple. Had she claimed Veridis as her goddess? It would be unexpected for a Draconis, but it would win the people’s favor.
And mine.
A warmth spread through me at the thought. To choose a Radaanian god would be an act of faith—one that a Draconis, who had never witnessed such gods in action, would find hard to make. For her to embrace Veridis would be a step beyond belief; it would be an affirmation of something deep and real.
She would be a queen to remember.
Tallon’s queen, I reminded myself, teeth clenched as we passed through Reem’s outer walls.
She was not mine, and never would be.
The thought soured my stomach. I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore the unease gnawing at me.
Nienna’s gelding snorted, stepping forward in a sudden prance that pulled my attention back to her.
Her grip on the reins tightened, her knuckles pale. The smile she’d worn was long gone, replaced by a hard, neutral expression. A small crease appeared between her brows, only to vanish again. Her gaze flicked to mine, and I saw a streak of unease buried there.
Open fields stretched ahead, the crowd parting to let us through. Though fewer commoners lined the streets, the press of bodies still made it difficult to ask what bothered her.
The gelding’s ears twitched. Another step, a restless prance, and Nienna pulled in a sharp breath.
