In the quiet, I steadied my breath, forcing my thoughts to fall into place. I needed a logical argument, something my parents would hear.
They’d brought me back to my old rooms. Sunlight streamed through windows cut into the dark stone. Warm tapestries hung in waves of gold and indigo, ocean sunsets locked in thread. Intricate woven rugs adorned the floor. Shells, driftwood, and hanging abalone disks shimmered along the walls, pale rainbows swaying in the still air.
My chest ached. I never thought I’d return. I was promised to another kingdom. Meant to be a bride, not a shameful whisper. But here I was—not as a cherished princess, a daughter of honor—but as a stain on the name I carried.
Not just mine. Kallias’. My father’s.
Guilt settled across my shoulders, and I buried my face in my hands. My fingers scrubbed at the raw, chapped skin as if I could scrape away days of regret.
“I made a mistake,” I whispered, voice muffled through my palms. Fingertips pressed to my aching eyes. My body craved a bath, a meal, a tincture for the hammering in my skull.
But war would not wait.
The bed shifted beneath my mother’s weight, and her arm enveloped me, pulling me close, anchoring me to her chest.
“Tell me everything.”
So I did.
She let me bury my face, arms wrapped tight as I poured out every detail. Dry sobs clutched my throat, choking off words as I spoke of Tallon’s cruelty—of Kallias’ quiet kindness. I omitted the assassination attempt and Tallon’s attack. She only needed bones—the thinnest skeleton of truth. Shame seared my ears when I reached Kallias, and I chose each word with care. But she was my mother. By the slow, steady inhale as I said his name, she knew who had my heart.
Explaining how I found Tallon with Fyrn was easy, but when I got to the study, my mouth seemed to forget how to speak.
“And when I ran, I… well, I thought–” I broke off, heat crawling up my neck. I was a fool. Naïve. A pawn in Tallon’s game.
“You ran to his father.”
Mother’s words hooked into my soul, wrenching it. I hated the way she said that. Kallias was so much more than Tallon’s father. But to them, he’d be nothing except the man who tried to bed his son’s betrothed.
She sighed, arms slipping from me as she stood. My hands dropped from my face. My eyes stung with tears I hadn’t shed.
She smoothed her fine blue gown. Her expression turned unreadable. “Should we expect a babe?”
“No!” My gasp tore out of me. I yanked my neckline higher, cheeks flushed with horror.
“Don’t act so shocked. You show up near death, on dragonback, your dress in tatters, legs bare—then tell me your brother caught you in a compromising position with the King of Radaan.” Her head tilted. Her glare cut straight through. “Be mindful, Princess. Radaan has committed an act of war. We are a wingbeat from raining dragonfire from their sky.”
I shut my eyes. Helplessness rolled over me, pulled me under. If she couldn’t understand, who would? I only wanted to protect Kallias. But how?
“Nienna.” She stooped down to brush the matted hair from my brow. “Rest later. Save your emotions for another day. Right now,wefind your father—and explain.”
I managed a fragile nod.
She offered a tight smile, the fine lines near her eyes deepening. “Wear blue, not green.” She turned on her heel, heading for the dressing rooms. “He doesn’t need reminders of Radaan.”
She helped me dress, pulled my hair back as best she could. Four days of wind and flying reduced it to a nest. As we walked, she bore most of my weight, guiding me through the corridors and into the Spire’s inner halls.
I focused on my strides—one step, then the next. The sharp-sweet burn of peppermint tea lingered on my tongue, but its strength faded fast. We moved too quickly for me to meet the staff’s stares or take comfort in the familiar corners of home.
A low hum shivered through the walls as Mother veered into a side corridor, steering us away from the Cireendium. The hum deepened into a growl, flickering the lantern flames.
“Silence, you old bat,” Mother muttered.
I smiled, lip splitting. Kalepsi likely heard her and snapped at the air in protest.
The Cireendium lay at the Spire’s hollow center—a vast cavern barely big enough for Kalepsi. But the violet dragon would climb down stone and steel to see me—her Dragon’s Heart.
“How did you get me to my room?” I asked, tripping over my feet.
