“Your palace?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
I had seen paintings of the Spire—its grim, towering presence reaching the clouds, crowned by the dragon Nest. Compared to that, Phares’ tower was a mere imitation, a pale shadow of something greater.
“My home.”
Her words struck me like a blow. The longing in her voice ripped through me, exposing the weight of all she had endured—and all she still would.
It was a bitter reminder. Radaan was not her home. She belonged to Draconia. Her heart was with her dragons, not with me. Not with my people. What could golden fields and blossoming orchards offer to a woman raised amidst whirlstorms and the largest predators of the known world?
I saw the dark, oppressive estate as a looming, cold structure. She viewed it through soft, nostalgic eyes. Perhaps that would change once she met the nobles who resided within.
Bracing myself, I urged my stallion forward.
The city’s people were distant, their smiles veiled with reserve. They bowed low, acknowledging us regardless of rank. I had demanded the same recruits of Bac’phares as any district. They’d seen me in battle. I earned their respect, at least.
That, I realized, might be all I had earned.
We arrived at the estate without ceremony, entering the courtyard with no formal greeting.
Nienna surveyed the barren space, her eyes tracing the bare earth. No shrubs, no trees—just sparse, low grass, as though they feared nature itself might challenge their fearsome fortress.
“Were we expected?” she whispered, scanning the empty courtyard for any sign of staff—bustling servants, attentive butlers, anyone charged with offering a greeting.
Any other day, I wouldn’t care. The lack of welcome was nothing new, and I’d grown accustomed to it. But with Nienna? It wasn’t just an insult to me as king. It was a slight to her as princess.
The thought made my blood surge, a flash of rage itching at my skin. I wanted to throw open the doors, drag Bac’phares from his chambers, and demand he grovel at my feet.
“Leon,” I snapped, my voice low and cold. “Inform the Phares that their failure to offer a proper welcome to Princess Nienna has severely displeased their king.”
The guard glanced between us, no doubt wondering why my anger seemed more on her behalf than my own. Without a word, he dismounted and sprinted toward the door.
I took a slow breath, steadying my pulse as he disappeared into the bowels of the tower. Dismounting, I braced myself against the saddle, shaking out my stiff legs. Long rides were comforting to my mind, but my body hated them. My spine popped as I stretched, trying to loosen the tightness in my joints.
When I trusted my feet to carry me, I turned toward Nienna. Her gaze was fixed downward, her mouth tight with discomfort.
“I can’t feel my legs,” she murmured, her lips barely moving.
I shifted, stifling a smirk, careful not to let Garett see. “My apologies. I should have made more stops.”
I pushed her too hard. Long rides were second nature to me, but Nienna, a proper lady, wasn’t accustomed to horses or their demands. It had been foolish to not consider her needs.
Not that I minded helping her down.
“I’ve got you.” My voice was low, just for her ears.
She relaxed a fraction, her breath hitching as she gripped the saddle and swung her leg over. Her knee buckled as her weight shifted, and she tumbled. I caught her with a grunt, steadying her until her feet found solid ground.
“Abyss beneath,” she hissed, her fingers clenched white around the stirrup.
“The numbness will fade soon.”
“Before the nobles arrive?”
“Probably.” I chuckled, my irritation at Bac for his negligence fading into a quiet relief. At least no one else had witnessed her stumble.
And yet, my hands still rested on her waist, unwilling to let go.
It would be so easy—so effortless—to pull her flush against me. Her unsteady form would melt into mine, soft curves pressing against my chest. I’d brush my lips along her neck, nipping at the tender skin, coaxing out those small moans that drove me mad.
