“To a Draconis, mating is as natural as breathing.” Nienna dipped her chin. “And dragons certainly aren’t subtle about it.”
I rested the toe of my boot against her foot in a silent warning. Her gaze snapped to mine, and I held her stare, my expression stern. Some topics, no matter how common in Draconia, were improper at a Radaanian table.
Such as any discussion of mating.
A faint blush bloomed across her cheeks. My mouth twitched as I fought back a smile, sensing her urge to push further.
Her leg shifted, brushing against mine before looping around it in a quiet, deliberate motion. My jaw tightened as I forced my attention to the plate in front of me, pretending my leg wasn’t tangled with a princess’ underneath the dinner table.
Chapter Thirty
Nienna
The crumbs on the platters had dwindled to almost nothing, and the pitcher of mead had been filled and drained three times before we decided it was time for bed.
Satisfaction thrummed through me. My shoulders felt unburdened, and laughter escaped without regard for propriety. Beneath the table, my right leg had engaged in a mock battle with Kallias, our playful jabs escalating as the evening deepened.
At some point, the skirmish ended, our feet entangling in a quiet truce. His teasing gaze darkened, pleasure lurking in those depths. The sight of him at ease—his mask of regal composure replaced by the warmth of shared companionship—stirred something restless in my chest. A flutter low in my belly, both unnerving and exhilarating.
“Mark my words, one day those four-legged carpets will be the salvation of Radaan!” Claydon declared, waving his book for emphasis before slipping a ribbon between its pages.
“If goats are your saviors, Radaan is in worse trouble than I thought,” I shot back with a smirk.
“That’s a job for your dragons, Draconis,” Kallias murmured, his voice slipping through me like smoke, sending warmth straight to my core.
“Ah, you’re right!” I sprang forward as if struck by revelation. “They will be the salvation because dragons need to eat!”
Claydon staggered back a step, one hand flying to his chest as if hit by an invisible blow. “The audacity!” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with exaggerated offense.
Kallias, unamused, shifted beside me and nudged my boot with his. The subtle gesture was firm enough to catch my attention but discreet enough to avoid notice. It carried an unspoken reprimand, yet the touch sent a sudden, searing warmth spiraling up my leg, settling somewhere beneath my ribs. My lips twitched in betrayal, fighting the urge to grin, but the trace of heat lingered, an uninvited thrill that tangled with the moment.
“Nienna, Clay’s heart isn’t as young as it used to be. Have mercy on the poor man,” Gayle chided, mirth shaking her shoulders as she placed a hand on her husband’s arm.
Claydon spun toward her, feigning insult. “Are you implying I’m old?”
“And aging like a fine wine, dear.”
The table dissolved into laughter. I glanced around, soaking in the scene. Tipo and Poppy murmured in a world of their own, their foreheads nearly touching. Greaves chuckled beside me, his voice a low rumble. Will busied himself tidying the remnants of our meal, interjecting the occasional remark.
“Now, speaking of age—I’d hate to be a terrible host.” Gayle rose, brushing imaginary crumbs from her lap. “As much as I’d love to linger, it’s been a long day for all of us, and an even longer one for you three.”
Claydon stood, offering her his hand as she said, “I’ll take the princess to her room.”
I glanced at Kallias who studied me with hooded eyes. My heart pounded, and my ears burned at the intensity of his gaze.
“Shall I assist you, Your Highness?” Poppy asked, perking up from her chair.
“Please no,” I managed through a strained laugh. “I can manage tonight.”
The prospect of quiet solitude had nothing to do with the hope that the king might find his way to my chambers later. Not at all.
“If you need anything, ring the bell, and I’ll be there in a flash!” Poppy settled back into her seat, eyes sparkling with readiness.
Kallias stood, stretching his body, every movement deliberate, a display of controlled strength. My throat dried as his crooked smile held my gaze. He saw me watching, lusting after him, and reveled in it.
Behind me, he slid my chair back, his thumb grazing the bare skin of my shoulder. A shiver ran down my spine at the contact. Tilting my head, I caught his eye and smirked. His gaze lingered on my face, then dropped lower, tracing the curve of my chest.
“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice silkier than intended. Did I arch slightly, offering him a better view? Maybe.
