Except Nienna.
She was the exception. That meant she was safe. I was not.
“Nereus must have known that when he set the terms.”
“He refuses to discuss anything with me until the Awakening ends.”
I didn’t blame him. After the long day, I wouldn’t want to be bothered either. It wasn’t hard to see why Nereus would turn him away.
“Then we’ll discuss it in negotiations.”
“I apologize for not preparing you for the dragon song–”
“Fallione.” I cut him off, peeling off my vest. He had followed me into foreign lands with no map and no promise of survival. “Keep the ship steady. Stay in contact with Nereus’ staff. Advise me as needed. But don’t think I expect you to know everything. I’m not a young prince anymore. I can handle myself.”
“Yes, my king. I aim to serve.” He sighed, voice heavy with weariness. “I am sure you’re weary from your travels today.”
“I want nothing more than my bed.” And the woman already in it.
“If anything pressing arises, I will do my best to inform you prior.”
“As expected.” I tugged at my sleeves. “Now go rest. Gods know I won’t get much.” I cast a look toward the other room.
“Good night, my king.” The door clicked softly behind him as he left.
I pulled my tunic free, yanking it over my head. My back screamed from the trial and the endless walking. I hissed and tossed it across a chair.
At the basin, I studied the bandage. Crimson bled through the linen. I peeled it off, revealing a scabbed-over gash just above the old scar from the foothills. Another to add to the tally.
I soaked a cloth and pressed it against the wound. Cool water stung. I bent over the basin, scrubbing sweat and grime from my face and hair. After drying off, I left my trousers on. I might enjoy her games, but I knew my body’s reaction to her well enough that I didn’t trust losing the garment.
Towel slung over my shoulders, I crossed to the bedchamber.
The moon gilded her in silver. Draped in white, her slender form curved atop the blanket. Pale hair spilled across the pillow like silk. She lay facing me, lashes casting faint shadows over her cheeks.
My chest tightened.
She looked fragile—thinner than she’d been in Radaan. I’d done that. Guilt gnawed at me. My mistake hurt her, tortured her, thinking I would just let her go.
Gingerly, I sat on the edge, bending to unlatch my boots. She moaned and wiggled on the bed, teasing a smile from my lips. Kicking my boots off, I set them aside before reclining on the mattress.
There would be more days like this. Duties from dawn until long after dark. A life of serving our kingdoms. If I could give her rest now, I would.
At least one of us deserved sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nienna
The next evening brought the kite parade. We walked among the crowd beneath the bruised sky, the air laced with salt and laughter. Rough displays bobbed on short strings, their crooked frames pieced together by little hands. Others soared higher—sleek, intricate, the work of seasoned fliers. The beach stretched under a canopy crammed with color, Draconis kites weaving in and out of clouds like stitched flame.
Ours carried the legacy of our ancestors, their frames constructed unlike any from distant shores—lighter, stronger. The craft passed down through generations, born from wherever they’d first set sail, then refined with magic.
Glowing trails marked the dusk, streaking the air like fallen stars. Swirls of green shimmered alongside veins of blue. Threads of pink and purple danced with streaks of crimson, sunburst yellow glinting in between. Power once locked in dragons now spilled through the hands of common folk, letting them share the sky with their rider kin.
Scaled bodies banked through the upper wind, dipping into the waves, scattering spray with their wings. They chased each other in wide arcs, unbound by any rule but instinct. Overhead, the sunset poured fire through the drifting clouds.
I gripped Kallias’ elbow, steering him toward the northernmost edge of Draconia.
