“The lights are magicked by people, but why the runes?” I asked, forcing my mind from thoughts better left alone.
“It’s easier.” Nienna’s gaze drifted to the dead mage lights along the wall. “They need Vessels to power them, but the runes are ancient words. They’re phrases to help you remember.Light to glow, to guide. Measured for use inside.The spell shifts depending on purpose, but Draconis can’t enchant without them.”
“And any Vessel can refill them?” I asked as we reached my door. I opened it, unwilling to see her go just yet.
She did not hesitate to enter. Behind her, Greaves frowned. His lips pressed to a line, already dreading where this would lead. I waved him in with a jerk of my head.
“Any can, but no two are the same,” she said, spinning to face me. Her hands found the chains of my mantle. “Some hold more. Some longer.”
I caught her wrist. Letting her unfasten it seemed too intimate. I’d made that mistake once—too soon. Almost gave in.
One day, she’d lift the weight of my kingdom from my shoulders. But not tonight.
Her eyes met mine. Doubt flickered in the ocean-deep blue.
“Greaves can do it.”
Her skin felt impossibly soft beneath my grip. Her full lips parted, and need struck like lightning. Watching her all day had ignited something slow and smoldering, and now it boiled.
She would let me.
If I stepped forward—if I leaned in—she would fold into me without question. We were fated. I crossed the sea for her. Braved dragonfire. And stood here, risking everything for me.
But honor demanded we wait.
“When I make love to you, it will be to a queen. Not a princess.”
Her mouth curved, sly and dangerous. Challenge replaced hesitation. I released her and pointed toward the adjoining room.
“Go. Wait for me.”
She bit her lip, then obeyed.
Greaves moved in with practiced ease, unfastening the chains. His scowl said everything. “You’re playing with fire,” he muttered, lifting the mantle from my shoulders.
A knock on the door. He shut his eyes for a long breath, and I scoffed, already knowing who it would be.
“It’s Fallione. Go eat.”
“And leave you alone with her?” His gaze cut toward the bedchamber. “What happens if you break your word again?”
“Go.” I shoved his shoulder, too tired to argue.
He huffed but opened the door, letting Fallione inside.
“Your Majesty, there are traditions to marrying a Draconis–” He didn’t wait for greeting or permission. Greaves shook his head and slipped into the hall.
“As with any nation,” I muttered, walking to the dressing room. A glance told me Nienna remained hidden, uninterested in political counsel.
“You are expected to ride a dragon.”
That gave me pause.
“Come again?”
Fallione pinched the bridge of his nose. “The groom is to take his bride on a flight around the island. Most males of the royal house of Draconis are riders. You are not.”
I started on the buttons of my vest. Would I need to bond one? Those massive creatures wouldn’t carry just anyone. Only their rider.
