Such a simple act. One that would be part of our daily life—and yet it was intimate. Private. This was just as significant as consummating our marriage. A quiet, sacred thing. A vow spoken without words.
This wasn’t only routine.
This was ours. A symbol of our future. Together.
“Tasks for today?” I asked after braiding my hair and lacing my boots.
“I need to be briefed by Fallione, visit my captain at the docks, speak to a noble—was his name Elek?—and, most importantly, have a meeting with my queen.”
My fingers paused on the boot’s final loop. Brows arched. “Oh? What business requires her attention, dear king? Something you need to discuss?”
“Words won’t be needed,” he said, adjusting the chains across his overcoat. “But I expect her here by midday.”
“And if she has prior commitments?”
“Then I suppose a private beach or closet will suffice.”
I smothered a grin and leaned back on the bed, ankles crossed. “I’ll be in the library until our appointment, then.”
“Libraries are dangerous places.”
“Agreed. I might need a king to rescue me.”
“I could be persuaded to hold the meeting there.” His eyes caught mine in the mirror—hot, merciless. Heat pooled beneath my skin, memory of last night flickering like flame.
A knock scattered the moment.
I rose with a sigh and answered. Greaves waited in the hall, his gaze darting past me. A silver-haired man lingered just behind, his expression soft—so unlike the guard’s ever-present scowl.
“Until our meeting,” I called, stepping into the corridor.
“What meeting?” Fallione asked.
I couldn’t stop the grin edging into place as I strode into the hall.
The morning passed in the library, sorting travel plans with my mother. Endless details. We only had one boat capable of carrying a dragon. It needed inspection—and likely repair—before our return to Radaan.
The Dragon Ship straddled innovation. With a bow and stern like any other, it had a flat, wide center for dragons to rest. Only a small few were the right size to both tow the ship, and fit mid-deck.
Radaan’s crew would need to transfer aboard alongside Draconis Vessels. Assembling them would take time, and that task fell to Mother and me.
Near midday, Gertrude, the cook, sent a servant to me.
“She says it’s about the bean tea, Your Grace.”
Mother looked up from her list. Daylight struck her silvering hair, casting a soft glow. “Bean tea?”
“Tell her I’ll be there shortly.” I stretched my arms above my head, easing the knots in my spine as the servant bowed and took her leave. “It’s a Radaanian drink,” I explained.
“They steep beans instead of herbs?” Heavy skepticism laced her tone.
“Something like that.” I shrugged, laughing it off. “See you at dinner.”
“You’re leaving so soon?”
“I have a meeting.”
“With whom?”
