I risked everything: Radaan’s people, the alliance with Draconia, the very peace I fought to preserve. My selfish actions could have set a war in motion—one we would not survive.
“Forgive me.” My voice wavered in the vast, empty chamber. Injustice seeped into my choices, deceit tainting truths I left unspoken. To rule through lies would unravel everything I built. Other kingdoms thrived on treachery, but Elohios blessed me for my honesty and the justice I upheld.
The breeze stilled. I waited, straining for any sign of forgiveness. None came.
I inhaled, steadying myself, and began another prayer, this one voiceless, meant for no ears but the god’s.
Bolster my strength. Sharpen my resolve. Remind me of my duty. Spare me the temptation she stirs within me. Remind me that she is not mine–
A laugh, light and melodic, broke the silence. Nienna’s. It rippled through the still air, mocking my plea. A second voice joined hers, feminine and cutting, scattering my focus like leaves in a storm.
At least I found her.
Would she have confided in Fyrn’sol? I trusted her instincts and her ability to act with grace, yet no amount of tact could erase what I did. A princess pressed against a bookshelf, kissed as though the world burned around us—it could have been her escape from Tallon.
My breath escaped in a sharp hiss. I didn’t want her tethered to him, left to endure the fate he offered. But there was no alternative. If she left, Radaan would crumble.
Grant me wisdom.My thoughts twisted into a final plea, the words heavy, raw, and unanswered.
The dinner felt as wretched as every other—though tonight, each barbed remark Tallon aimed at Nienna ignited an urge to lash out. My hand curled under the table, nails biting into my palm. The Velli ambassador sat smug and calculating, his very presence a provocation. When he joined in, testing Nienna’s limits, my patience frayed, anger simmering close to boiling over.
To my left, Griar’tal droned on about breeding a new line of horses, his voice an irritating hum against the tension at the table. My focus remained fixed on Nienna, watching for her response to Tallon’s latest volley.
“I would love to travel. I should see the kingdom I will become princess of,” she said, her tone sharp enough to cut. A determined attempt to force an invitation.
Egath chuckled, his jagged teeth glinting. “You’ll be queen one day, my dear. Better to conserve your strength—for heirs.”
My grip tightened on the silverware. I stabbed a potato, the motion deliberate, though it did little to steady me. To Tallon, Nienna was nothing more than a vessel for his ambitions—less than Griar’tal’s prized stallions, a broodmare for his legacy.
“A queen should be as capable as a king, wouldn’t you agree, Your Majesty?” Nienna’s gaze locked with mine, dark and imploring. Her silent plea sliced through the tension—a wordless request for reprieve after enduring an evening of relentless jabs.
I held her stare and inclined my head, my voice measured. “The kingdom’s strength depends on both the king and queen. Take her. Let her out of the Golden Palace.”
The words tasted bitter. The thought of her leaving—especially under Tallon’s care—twisted my gut, but for her sake, I relented.
“If King of the Plentiful Plains suggests it, then you must, Tallon.” Egath’s grin widened as he leaned forward. “I’m well-acquainted with the Craggs. I’d seek permission to accompany you.”
The mention of the mountain range froze me. The Craggs? Now? He never showed interest before, and unease prickled under my skin.
“I will consider your request,” I replied, knowing I wouldn’t. “But I suggest you stay with Claydon’sol while you visit.” The man was no genius, but he would keep Nienna safe.
Tallon faced me, a predatory smile pulling at his lips. “Accidents happen in those mountains, Father. You bear the scars to prove it.”
I eased back, studying him. His words weren’t mere petulance. They carried a darker edge, a warning I wasn’t ready to dismiss—not with Nienna involved.
The princess leaned forward, her posture demure, her expression schooled into the perfect mask. Her smile, restrained yet polite, suited the occasion, but her eyes betrayed her desperation. She wanted this—needed it.
Did she hope to spend more time with her betrothed? Doubtful. Avoid me? Possible. Or did the prospect of freedom beyond the palace walls call to her? Probable.
I forced my attention back to Tallon, the uneasy knot in my chest tightening. His emotions always bled through his façade, much like his mother’s. He was too unguarded, too reckless.
“I’m due for a visit to the Manor in the Mountains,” I said, watching his lip curl in a silent snarl. “We’ll leave in two weeks.”
“Thank you!” Nienna’s voice brimmed with relief, her triumph unmistakable.
Tallon stiffened, his fork plunging into a carrot with a force that sent the vegetable skidding. His gaze flicked to Egath, and the unspoken exchange between them set my nerves alight. What was he plotting? Seeking assurance? A plan?
Without a word, he pushed to his feet and tossed his napkin onto the table. His departure was as abrupt as it was insolent, though he spared the bare minimum courtesy. “I beg my leave.”
