They led me through the winding corridors, their armor clanking in a steady rhythm. It was unseemly, perhaps, to walk without a noble’s escort, but I wanted to learn these halls. Idle chatter would only slow that goal.
Around a bend, they stopped short, stiffening in salute. I hesitated, stepping forward to peer past them.
King Kallias stood before me, his head inclined in a curt nod. “Princess.”
I dipped into a curtsy, rising with a practiced smile. His gaze lingered, cool and discerning. Where he walked with a single guard—Greaves—I was trailed by four.
How unfair.
“Your Majesty,” I replied.
His brows knit together, lending him an air of perpetual contemplation. The sparse stubble on his jaw seemed almost subversive, as if daring the court to follow his lead and leave their chins unshaven. The golden mantle gleamed in the bright light shining through the windows, its weight pressing against the deep green of his tailored jacket. He wasn’t soft like the ambassadors who had frequented Draconia. He carried the stance of a soldier—coming off the heels of a war.
“You have no escort.” Not a question—a flat statement, delivered in that low voice of his.
“I just came from seeing Prince Ronan off. Now I’m on my way to join Fyrn’sol for tea,” I said in explanation.
The corner of his eye twitched, and he took a deep breath before extending his arm. “I will see you to her.”
My heart sank.
Why did he keep offering to help me if I was nothing more than an inconvenience to him? Why did he treat me this way?
“Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but I wouldn’t want to steal you away from whatever pressing matters you’re attending to.” I forced the grin to stay on my lips, the curve never faltering.
His gaze flicked over the guards flanking me. “I have time.”
Time enough to be encumbered by my presence.
I tried again, softening my smile and dipping my head. Perhaps if I played coy, he would leave me be. “I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”
“It is my duty to see to your needs.”
It was Tallon’s duty—not his.
And yet, he kept stepping in.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, placing my hand on his arm. “Thank you.”
As he shifted, his fingers brushed the buckle at his belt. I resisted the urge to pull away. The subtle strength of his muscles moving under my grasp was far too familiar, too unnerving.
“Dismissed.”
I glanced back as the guards dispersed, retreating down the corridor we had just crossed. Only Greaves trailed behind. I offered him a smile—which he staunchly ignored.
Kallias kept a steady pace, mindful of my shorter strides. My shoulder brushed his biceps—this close, I had to tilt my head to glimpse his frown-ridden face.
“Thank you for sparing my ears,” I said. “Their armor is quite loud.”
The furrow in his brow eased a fraction, and he nodded in understanding. “A necessary evil. Vellos signed a treaty, but precautions must remain to uphold it.”
“Do you fear they’ll withdraw?”
We turned down another passage. I was already lost.
“If I did, you would not be here.” His lips pressed into a thin line, gaze averted from mine. “Still, I’ll be relieved when you’re wed. Dragons are a better deterrent than the clang of swords and armor.”
I ducked my head, my fake smile faltering. His honesty surprised me. It was blunt—a far cry from what I expected from another kingdom’s high court. Yet, it underscored my role. I wasn’t a person to him—I was a tool of security.
