“Welcome, counselors.”
Kallias’ voice shattered my composure. My pulse stuttered as I met his gaze, the crowded room fading to a blur. At least twenty men separated us, yet his eyes made the distance feel like a whisper. His jaw tightened, his expression composed but strained as he dipped his head slightly.
“Welcome, Ambassador. Prince Tallon. Princess Nienna,” Kallias said evenly, though his son let out a thoughtful hum when my name was spoken, drawing attention, “and Lady Fyrn’sol.”
The king turned to the slim, pale man across the table. “Sai’glon, begin with the tensions in the foothills.”
Sai straightened, his dark hair brushing his shoulders as he shifted, his discomfort obvious. “Yes, Your Majesty. In the Glon district, there have been multiple reports of threats and theft.”
My heart sank. A week ago, I’d written to my father about the mounting unrest, but the whirlstorms would delay any response for weeks.
“Do we have any information about the culprits?” Kallias asked, his tone calm but probing.
Sai hesitated, his lips curling before he masked it with a wince. “The threats originate from Velli traders who approach the boundary. Our people refuse to trade with them.”
“And the thefts?”
“Tracks lead east, through the Pass of Thousands.”
Kallias turned toward Egath, his brow dipping into a controlled frown. “Ambassador, are you aware of these events?”
The Velli rose with deliberate slowness, his lanky frame unfolding as he addressed the room. “I’ve heard no suchaccusations.” He drew that last word out with venom. “I will investigate, but perhaps if the Radaanians were open to trade, suchclaimswould not arise.”
Sai’s glare burned into the wood, his hands hidden. “He admits it!”
“Peace, Sai’glon,” Kallias said, firm but calm. His hand pressed flat against the table. “My people are free to choose their commerce partners.”
Tallon leaned forward. “The Velli are starving.”
The declaration made me frown—defending their enemy here, before his own council?
“We have more than enough,” he continued. “Send a portion of our tax.”
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the room.
“The tax belongs to Radaan,” Kallias said, his voice sharp as steel, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist.
Sai’glon’s fury blazed in his eyes, though not for Egath—it burned for Tallon. “You expect us to give our crops to those monsters?” he growled, tone edged with disgust.
Generals leaned back, their faces unreadable but for the glint of curiosity or approval. Noblemen exchanged quiet glances, basking in the anticipation of a fight. Beside me, Tallon’s lips curved into a smirk.
“They are blood crops,boy!” Sai’glon thundered. “A thousand fell in that pass–”
“Prince!” Tallon spat, rising from his seat.
Kallias rose, his fist slamming into the table, silencing the room. “Enough! This council will maintain order.” His glare swept from Sai to his son. “Choose your words with care—or remain silent.”
“Perhaps wisdom would honor the treaty,” Tallon said, chest puffed with defiance.
Fyrn sucked in a breath, her gaze flickering between them. Egath stood to the side, his sharp eyes dissecting the scene with a precision I found unsettling.
“Radaan upholds the agreement, as does Vellos,” Kallias spoke, each word clipped and deliberate. “As the foreign advisor, you might want to acquaint yourself withyourpeople’s grievances.”
Before Tallon could utter something that could damn him further, I rose, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. “The dragons–”
He recoiled, jerking his arm free as his hand shot toward me. I flinched at the sudden motion, the sound of wood groaning under pressure punctuating the moment. With chin raised, I caught his hateful green gaze and refused to look away. His palm froze mid-air, trembling as rage rippled through him.
The room plunged into silence, the kind so heavy it pressed against the skin. The prince shook with fury, every taut muscle betraying his wrath. I forced a smile, though it felt more like baring my teeth. If he struck me, he’d doom his people—my dragons were their last chance.
