“Tallon didn’t know what he was getting into with you, did he?” Her words were blunt, an arrow fired without pretense.
Blunt, I could handle.
“I’m not sure what he expected,” I said, setting my glass down with deliberate care. “But IamRadaan’s future.”
Her sneer deepened, contempt curling her lip as she leaned across the table. “Your choice of words amuses me, Princess. Tonight, we’ve spoken of the late queen, of her son, and yet you’ve barely uttered his name. Betrothed as you are, with a wedding mere months away, one might think you’d be eager to speak of him.”
I dabbed my lips with the napkin, letting the moment stretch. Each second tightened tension’s cord. “May I be honest, Takal?”
A wicked gleam flared in her dark eyes. “Elohios would demand it.”
“It’s none of your blasted business.”
Her laughter erupted like a thunderclap, echoing through the chamber as she threw her head back and slammed into her chair. The sound clawed at my nerves, vile and grating. I held her gaze, forcing patience to temper the heat simmering beneath my skin.
Along the wall, the two servants stood motionless, their blank faces betraying neither surprise nor discomfort. This wasn’t the first time they’d seen such insolence.
“Ah, I do love a blunt woman,” she said, wiping at her eyes as her laughter subsided. Then, rising without permission, she smoothed her skirts with a deliberate flourish.
My fists tightened beneath the table. Princess or not, she reveled in her belief that she stood above me.
“I will see you to your rooms now,” she said, her smile as bright and false as a polished coin. She stepped around the chair, already dismissing me.
“I am not finished.”
Her steps halted. She turned, her mirth draining like wine spilled on stone. “You’re done.”
The words struck like a slap, igniting fire in my veins. “Youdaretell me I’m done?”
Her lip curled in disdain. “The king of Radaan is not here, and these are my people.” She gestured toward the servants, her arrogance suffocating. “I am High Lady of this house, and you’ll find you have little power here,Princess. Now. To your rooms.”
“You forget your place.” Heat flushed my cheeks, but I refused to waver. “You are a noble, nothing more. An insect beneath the might of a dragon. I am Draconis. Have you forgotten our magic?”
A bluff, but her pale face betrayed her doubt.
“A single word.” I let the threat drip like poison. “Just one, and your fields will wither. No wheat, no barley, not even grass for your sheep.”
Her tone faltered. “You are loyal to Radaan–”
“I am bound to Radaan, but my loyalty is mine alone.” With my head tilted, I steeled my expression into iron. “I am a dragon, and you are an ant. Remember your place.”
Deliberation marked every movement as I raised a piece of pork to my mouth. The sharp tang of spice and rich fat coated my tongue as I chewed, my gaze fixed on her rigid form. Fury radiated off her in waves. Her knuckles whitened against the back of her chair, gripping it as though it might anchor her. She neither sat nor fled, unwilling to test the unspoken threats that lingered.
She wouldn’t dare.
I took my time eating, dragging the meal out long past my hunger. Each bite was a reminder of her place, a punishment for her insolence. The silence in the room grew thick and oppressive, broken only by the faint clink of my utensils. My thoughts strayed to Kallias and how he endured similar affronts. Bac’phares’ smugness earlier suggested his punishments had been far less subtle.
At last, I wiped my hands on the linen napkin and rose, the chair scraping against the floor. “I will retire now. Please, show me to my rooms.”
Her jaw tightened, but she nodded, turning without a word.
The trek through the tower stretched in brutal silence. Shadows pooled in the narrow halls, the black stone walls blending with the darkness outside. The air carried the stale chill of a dungeon, and I longed for a window, for even a glimpse of the stars or the cooling brush of the night’s breeze. Asking about balconies, though, would betray any semblance of authority I claimed to hold.
Lanterns flickered, illuminating little before it seemed to dissolve into the gloom. The corridors, devoid of windows, swallowed sound and light alike. Takal moved through them as if born to the shadows, her stride long and brisk. She walked, head high, every step deliberate. Though taller than me by a margin, her imposing posture made the difference feel greater.
I hurried to match her pace, trying to memorize turns and landmarks in the labyrinthine estate. No staff appeared to offer guidance. No guards patrolled the halls. The emptiness unsettled me, each step echoing against the walls, amplifying the eerie quiet. Perhaps privacy was a virtue in this place—or a shield for something darker.
At a bend in the corridor, Garett came into view, stationed near a heavy door. Across the hall, Leon lingered by another. My chest tightened. Could that be where Kallias would stay? The thought grounded me for a fleeting moment—so close, yet just out of reach.
