The two exchanged angry words. Then Kallias released him, watching as his son adjusted his overcoat. He sank into his seat next to mine, face flushed crimson.
Unease spiraled within, and I wasn’t sure if I should feel angry, grateful, or if the letter to my father would request my return. I understood the logistics ofwhythis alliance needed to happen, but I hadn’t anticipated the reality. Tallon wanted nothing to do with me, and Kallias would always have to be the one to rescue me.
I expected some mutual understanding between us—that even if he found me unattractive, too vocal or opinionated for his tastes, we could make this work. We didn’t have to fall in love. I could find Radaanian friends, people to care for, but we needed compatibility. Tallon, however, was proving to be a hard match in that regard.
The king found his seat, and I fought to ignore the seething hatred emanating from his son. A servant set a plate in front of me—piled with greens and earthy vegetables, glistening in oil and vinegar. Only when Kallias took the first bite did we begin to eat. The murmur of voices in the hall rose to a pleasant backdrop amidst the tense silence that clung to the dais.
Nobles approached between courses, discussing various topics, while Tallon remained aloof, listening to a young man discuss a horse race in the westernregion. It took me two courses before I noticed the Ivetti ambassador’s untouched plate.
A tight knot formed in my stomach. No one had considered their customs.
In public, they never ate until their first bite was given. The act was a sacred gesture, woven into their faith. She would return to her quarters and eat alone, but here, she would not eat without a companion to share her food with.
I searched the room for her guard, spotting him at the far wall, blending with the other attendants—except Greaves, who lingered in the king’s shadow.
Kallias met my eyes, head tipped as if sensing my concern.
My jaw tightened. As an ambassador, she deserved respect. She would have offered her food to the noblewomen beside her, but clearly, they had declined.
I twisted my hands in my lap, the pressure of indecision rising. Walking away from Tallon before the meal was finished would be a grave insult. Yet, this was my future kingdom, and Radaan needed allies. In this setting, leaving would cost me respect. But it was equally disrespectful to let an ambassador go hungry.
It should have been Tallon’s responsibility—or even Kallias’—to ensure she had someone to share her meal. Who was in charge of international relations? I’d give them a piece of my mind when I found them.
The woman kept her gaze fixed on her plate, a polite smile masking her discomfort. She nodded at something said to her, but the flush on her face could have been anger, burning her cheeks a bright red.
I forced my chair back with a sharp scrape, then ducked my head to mask my cringe as I pushed to my feet. Every eye followed my movement, but I met Kallias’ calm blue gaze as he stood with me. Tallon followed, after a long breath, and the conversation ebbed to murmurs.
“What are you doing?” the prince growled, his voice low and dangerous.
I shivered, feeling the heat of his ire, like standing too close to a ravenous wolf ready to snap.
“Your duty!” I hissed. My eyes snapped to the king before I sank into a shallow curtsy. “I beg your leave.”
Kallias’ gaze flicked to Tallon, and after a brief moment, he dipped his head, granting me release. I turned away from the table, my palms slick with sweat as the murmurs in the room softened to whispers. With a practiced smile, I lifted my chin and descended the stairs, grateful for the split in my dress. At least I didn’t have to worry about tripping.
As I passed between the rows of tables, all eyes were on me, the weight of their stares making me feel like I was walking through a performance. The ambassador caught my gaze and, realizing where I was headed, rose to her feet. She smiled, her teeth a sharp contrast to her dark complexion. Her black hair cascaded in intricate braids, hanging over her shoulder and down her back. She curtsied as I stopped before her.
“Le’hoim bless you,” I greeted, dipping my head in respect.
“Blessed be you, Princess Nienna, the Dragon’s Heart.” Her voice was soft, melodic, and as she met my gaze again, her dark eyes sparkled with gratitude. She reached for her plate and extended it toward me. “Would you share my bounty?”
“Many thanks.”
I surveyed the food before plucking a single grape. As I chewed, I did my best to keep the sound as quiet as possible. It seemed every noble had fallen silent, their eyes fixed on the exchange. Surely, even Kallias across the room could hear the soft click of my teeth as I swallowed.
“Blessed be.” I dipped my head again, and the ambassador curtsied, echoing my words.
It was a simple gesture—yet no one had seen to it or made proper accommodations. As the future queen, it would be my responsibility to ensure even the ambassadors of other nations felt welcomed here. Everyone deserved care, respect, and hospitality.
I turned back toward the dais, my gaze drifting to Kallias. His brow furrowed, a deep crease marking the space between his eyes. Tallon had returned to his seat beside him, but he remained standing, his attention fixed on me as I approached.
He was kind—had shown me nothing but warmth. He wouldn’t turn me away.
I paused at the base of the stairs, waiting for his signal. When he nodded, granting me permission to ascend, I measured each step with practiced care. As I reached the top, Tallon, with much reluctance, rose to assist me, but I hardly noticed as I sank into my chair. Kallias resumed his seat, the world around us returning to its quiet hum as if nothing shifted.
As if I hadn’t just salvaged the dignity of a kingdom that wasn’t mine yet.
My hands trembled as I ascended the spiral staircase, doubt twisting in my chest. If Kallias was elsewhere, I’d step out for a breath of fresh air before retreating to my rooms. But if he lingered on the balcony, I planned to offer an apology for my impulsive actions.
