This location mattered. Radaan waited across the sea. He should launch the final kite from here.
Mother and Father let me take the lead, though custom frowned on it. He was still a foreign king. But they understood how important this was to me.
We climbed the cliffside path, rocks biting through the soles of my boots, sea wind tugging at my braid. The trail hugged the cliff, sharp and narrow, until the land opened at the top.
Williard waited for us there, the gale snapping at his clothes. A green-and-gold display rested in his hands—dragon-shaped, its wings spread to catch the ocean breeze. Bird bones lined the open mouth, jagged and pale like teeth.
With a slight bow, the master kite maker offered it to Kallias, who accepted with reverence. It fit easily in his arms—modest, unassuming.
I smiled. Appearances could be deceiving.
We stepped away from Williard, Kallias unwinding the cord. His brow tightened as he gauged the wind, fingers careful and deliberate.
“When was the last time you flew a kite?” I asked, eyes on the crowd swelling below us.
“Never.”
My chest clenched. I turned, blinking to hide the jolt. “Never?”
“I’ve seen it done,” he muttered, testing the air with his hand.
Guilt rippled through me. I pushed him into this—an act steeped in tradition, one that mattered to my people—and never asked if he was ready. I failed him.
“You have to toss it off the cliff.” I angled my body between him and the watching crowd. “Keep the wings flat. Line it with the horizon.”
I took the cord, giving him both hands to guide the launch. The updraft would do the rest.
His jaw clenched. Silence swept over the beach below, heavy and expectant. The sea wind curled around us. Kallias steadied the kite, green wings outstretched, arms firm against the pull.
Hereleased it.
Then it dropped.
My breath lodged in my throat—then the dragon snapped upward, caught by the current. It soared past, the string whistling through my fingers until it drew tight with a sharp tug.
I passed it to Kallias. My heart thudded against my ribs.
I wanted to warn him. Tell him to mind the line, keep it level. But he didn’t need me to coddle him.
He was a king.
Sunlight skimmed the kite’s hide, catching every scale of painted silk. Far above, Tsunami and Naksula circled, their interest piqued by the stranger among them.
“Get ready to loose it,” I said, watching the sky.
“Tell me when.” He didn’t question why—he trusted me.
That teased a smile from my lips. I stepped behind him and laid my hand between his shoulders. Cold chain met my skin through his mantle.
I shifted, letting the crowd see him fully.
He wasn’t a threat. He was our turning point. Through our marriage, Radaan’s grain would fill our stores. Our reach would stretch toward the Wild Shores. With his alliance, we’d rival the greatest nations of the world.
The kite dipped, a spark of radiance hovering above the water.
“Now.”
He let go.
