I was happy.
Kallias looked more at ease than I’d ever seen him among my citizens. His back still held that rigid pride, his mantle draped with care—but the furrow between his brows had softened. His posture flowed, no longer carved in stone.
Bonfires dotted the shoreline, and drums thundered. The crowd swelled, unraveled, swayed, while formality burned away with the sun. We mingled freely. My parents had vanished hours before, leaving us for the night.
Curled beneath Kallias’ arm, I sank into the curve of his side. His laughter rumbled low when a child stomped through the sand, mimicking a dancer’s pounding steps. Firelight sparked across their faces, casting wide smiles in gold.
“They’re happy,” he murmured.
Pride bloomed in my chest. Not the loud, showy kind—but the quiet sort, rooted deep in my soul. Our people felt peace. Hope. Andwehad given that to them. This joy, this safety, was earned.
“Are you?” I brushed my palm over his thigh, tilting my face to meet his eyes through my lashes.
He grunted. A slow smirk tugged at his mouth. “I could be happier.”
“Oh?” I shifted. My hand slid inward, settling on the inside of his leg. His muscle jumped beneath my fingers.
“I’m sitting next to a woman who has been nothing but temptation.” He twisted, lips brushing my ear. “And I still haven’t kissed her.”
My nails grazed along the tender space of his inner thigh. A sound escaped him—half growl, half groan.
“Perhaps if you took her somewhere private, you could correct that.”
“I’m a king. I leave when it’s considered acceptable.”
“And if his queen decides it is?”
His teeth skimmed my ear. “Then I suppose I could be persuaded.”
I dragged my palm down his leg to his knee, then rose. His jaw flexed, and he stood, legs stiff from sitting too long. Behind us, Greaves straightened. When Kallias turned, I took his arm.
“We’re retiring for the night.”
His friend inhaled, chasing it with a sigh. He gave a nod, quiet approval shining within the shadows of his small smile. Though wrapped in black, nearly swallowed by the dark, that flicker of joy warmed something in me.
“He’s happy for you?” I asked as we slipped away beneath the stars, moving through alleys and broken moonlight.
“He is,” Kallias said, his hand folding over mine. “He’s always been at my side. This… is new.”
“How is it different from when you were with–”
His finger touched my lips. Gently. “Not tonight. Don’t sully what we have with her name.”
My throat dried, and I kissed his fingertip as he withdrew. It was careless of me. That marriage left wreckage in its wake. He’d been hurt. Betrayed. I shouldn’t have brought it up.
“You’re the only one I’ve ever pushed him away for,” he said, the words a low rumble. “I have no intention of sharing.”
The city was quiet, but my pulse made up for the silence with a frantic beat, pounding louder with every step toward the Spire.
Stillness wrapped around us and I embraced the hush. My skin buzzed. Something sacred hung in the air. Our passion had always lived in the cracks—hidden glances, stolen kisses, moments we couldn’t stretch long enough. But now? Now the world knew. My parents had blessed this union. Our people had sung for it.
Tonight, there would be no shame in our consummation. No guilt anchored to our shared love and desires.
We climbed the Cireendium in silence. Kallias stayed close, though he said nothing. Tension settled along my nerves like mist—thick, heavy, impossible to ignore. My mouth was parched from nerves.
The staff had moved our belongings to a new room. A fresh start. A shedding of past lives.
At the door, I paused, and Kallias stepped forward to push it open.
