Prologue
Kallias
There’s nothing quite as degrading as tucking in a tunic and buttoning trousers in front of a crowd. Especially after being caught with my son’s promised splayed over my desk, hips bucking between her legs like a rutting dog.
My glare locked on Egath. The ambassador hadn’t turned for the hall as a proper man would. No—he lingered, watched my disgrace with a flicker of amusement.
“Out!” I snarled.
The Velli at least retained enough self-preservation to flee.
Tallon had no such instinct.
He dropped into a chair, legs crossing at the knees, polished boot bobbing with smug ease. A smirk clung to his face like oil. I turned to Greaves and flicked my chin toward the door.
My best friend gripped his dagger, second-hand shame blooming over his cheeks. He was only a guard. The fault sat square on my shoulders—heavy as the mantle of Radaan. It bore down on me while Tallon watched, eager to witness me crack and break.
“Go.” My tone was cold. Even. Measured.
All the things my heart was not.
Greaves left in silence.
My chest ached, hollow where Nienna’s presence had been. She was gone. Out of reach. No undoing it now. Rage simmered in my veins, licking hot along my skin. Guilt curled in my gut, disgust tinting my features—an audience beheld my lowest fall, my greatest mistake.
I rounded my desk, avoiding the shards of broken lantern glass and spilled ink pots, trodding on reports scattered in the heat of passion.
Fury clawed at my throat, squeezing, threatening to garble what I needed to say. I bottled my rage, preserved it. My hands formed fists at my sides as I leaned against the desk’s edge, hooded eyes narrowed on Tallon.
“You planned this.” Not a question. This was no coincidence. Not when Nienna had just caught him with Fyrn, and somehow, Ronan and Egath stood at his side. This reeked of cold calculation—too much like his mother.
“Planned on you taking my betrothed over your desk?” He let out a breathy, mocking laugh. “No, I can’t say I ever thought you would be so foolish. But when I realized you were trying to replace me, I saw an opportunity. You taught me well.”
“Your mother taught you.” The words tore out, thick and sharp with past mistakes. I’d allowed Eldeiade to dig her claws into him for far too long.
“Like it or not, I’m your only heir.” His voice dipped, poison threading each word. He wouldn’t let me take another woman. He’d drag Radaan back to war if it meant his position remained secure.
“Tell me, Father.” He leaned in, a gleam of vile curiosity in his eyes. “How was she? We heard her through the door. Tell me, did she spread her legs without–”
I lunged. Fingers snared in his tunic, I yanked him forward and slammed him onto the desk. My fist met his jaw with a crunch.
“I’m done with you!” My snarl ripped free as I dodged his wild kicks. I struck again. Satisfaction sparked through my limbs with every blow. “You never deserved her. I never deserved her! And yet she came. She was willing to marry you!”
He cried out, snatching the mantle’s chains, jerking me closer.
“You ruined everything, boy!” Pain burst through my hand as his nose gave beneath another strike, but the satisfying bloom of crimson made up for the discomfort.
“I bled for peace! You’ve destroyed it!”
“You did that!” he spat, swinging at my face.
I dodged the blow, then picked him up, only to slam him down again.
“I never lifted her skirts. You defiled her!” He snapped his legs up, kicking me hard in the chest.
I staggered back, trembling with fury.
“I’ve never touched her, Father! You ruined her, not me!” His hair fell into his eyes as he scrambled off the desk. He shoved it off his face before jabbing an accusing finger my way. “You broke Radaan’s peace! You crushed the people’s faith! If this brings war, it was you who lit the fuse—and now I’ll have to pick up the pieces!”
