Besides Fyrn, Kallias was the only one I trusted in this palace. I growled in frustration, lifting it to my lips, holding my breath as I took a sip. The sweetness coated my tongue before a rich, nutty flavor hit. But when I swallowed, a bitterness lingered, unwelcome.
I clicked my tongue, studying the cup without meeting his gaze.
“Well?” he asked, amusement clear in his voice.
Another sip, and the same sweetness followed by an acrid aftertaste. “It’s… not very good.”
He laughed, and I smiled at the ease between us. Here he was, the king, letting me mock his drink of choice without rebuke. He accepted me as I was—unfiltered, unpolished—and found humor in it.
“Kahve,” he explained, reaching to take the cup.
I pulled it away, sheltering it from his grasp. When I took another sip, I winced at the taste.
“It’s a tea made from beans, not leaves. Grown in the south, a difficult plant to cultivate—luxurious.”
“Reserved for special occasions?” I asked, though I was unsure I could stomach more. Even if I didn’t like it, it meant something to him, and I would drink the whole thing just to prove I could.
“It energizes me,” he said, his eyes twinkling, “and calms me, in a way.”
“Bean tea versus leaf tea,” I teased, grimacing as another sip burned down my throat. “Beans must be stronger.” Who would have thought?
He shook his head, but his gaze dropped to my wrist, where Egath had gripped it. His eyes darkened. Without a word, he held out his hand, and I gave him my wrist without hesitation.
The strange sensation—the phantom touch—still lingered. A restless squirm beneath my skin that wasn’t quite normal. A twitch.
His thumb traced the blue veins, his gaze flickering up to meet mine, and his brow furrowed.
“You’re safe here,” he murmured.
With you, I wanted to say.With you, I’m safe.
“He won’t hurt you—or any Radaanian—while the treaty stands.”
The words hit like a blow. The treaty, the fragile thread that held Radaan’s safety in place. One that relied on my marriage to Tallon and the promise of dragons patrolling the mountains.
No matter how right Kallias felt at this moment, or how I longed for him to pull me closer…
I was not his.
A rush of heat bloomed in my cheeks, and desire clawed at me, threatening to spill over. I pulled away from him, afraid I might act on the hunger gnawing at my sanity. I took another sip of the vile drink, staring over the dark fields. They stretched out in a patchwork of navy and gray, silent and still.
Kallias didn’t speak. We stayed there in the quiet, staring out at the sleeping fields, long after our mugs had gone cold and empty.
Chapter Seventeen
Nienna
Icouldnotsleep.
No matter how I twisted beneath the blankets, my thoughts spiraled back to Kallias—the feel of his calloused fingers brushing my wrist, the shiver that followed. I tried to focus on Fyrn and her visit tomorrow, or the looming misery of a life bound to Tallon. Even Egath crept into my mind, with schemes forming on how I could show him I wasn’t to be trifled with.
But none of it held. My thoughts circled back to the moment on the roof—Kallias’ arms locking around me when he feared I might fall. I could still feel the solid strength of him pressed close, the warmth radiating from his body. His scent lingered in my memory, rich with spice and the faintest trace of woodsmoke.
A groan tore from my throat as I buried my face in a pillow, muffling a silent scream.
Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? Why couldn’t I justsleep?
At the foot of my bed, Edith’s small breaths filled the quiet, soft and rhythmic. She didn’t snore, a minor blessing, but her even exhalations told me she slept deeply enough not to notice me—if I stayed silent.
