Her fingers wandered to my waist. “Very important ones.”
I shifted my hips away, out of reach, and she gave a pitiful whine while I scoffed a quiet laugh.
An invisible weight pressed across my shoulders as I dressed, but I masked the worry chewing at me. Doubt and concern loomed like a stormcloud, but her humming drifted through the room as she combed her hair, a soft and grounding sound—reminding me I wasn’t alone.
Not that I would share this burden with her.
A gentle knock was the only warning before the maid returned, tray in hand. Greaves resumed his post inside the door, ever alert—as if the short redhead might maim us with breakfast.
“Thank you, Freya,” Nienna said, lifting a steaming cup of tea. A matching one sat beside two slices of bread topped with minced fish.
“There’s some for you as well, Your Majesty.” Freya dipped her head, then reached for the comb and took over working through Nienna’s tangled hair.
I accepted the drink, though the lack of privacy grated. Nienna closed her eyes after a sip, relishing the warmth. A quick sniff told me it was mint—enough to rouse my groggy mind.
The flavor, however, was not.
Hot. Minted. And briny. As if steeped in seawater. I smothered a grimace and lowered the cup, my tongue recoiling.
Freya attempted to busy herself in her task, though her stifled giggle betrayed her.
“Thoughts?” Nienna asked, her smile far too bright and eager.
“It is… salty,” I said, clearing my throat. “Unexpected.”
“Traveler’s Tea. Riders drink it after long flights.” She dabbed oil on her wrists, rubbing it along her skin. “It’s my favorite—though most don’t care for it.”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, nose crinkling as if she’d won some secret wager.
“I’ll leave it to you and the riders,” I muttered, giving the cup a sideways glance.
Once we were dressed and presentable, we parted ways. She left to find her mother; I returned to my desk to sort through requests from city mayors. K’bar offered a tour of their crafting district—likely an attempt to parade wares and pitch engineering collaborations. Fallione could go in my stead, but with weeks until our departure, a visit might be worth it.
“Kal?” Greaves’ voice cut through the rustle of papers.
I hummed in acknowledgment, setting aside the dwindling ship inventory and focusing on the list of island dignitaries. Who else could Radaan lean on while we were here?
When he didn’t respond, I glanced up.
His expression said too much.
I schooled my face into the careful mask I wore at court. Blank. Impenetrable. A wall between me and his unwanted concern.
His brows pinched with disapproval, lips drawn in a deep frown. Worry—and something sharper—shadowed his gaze. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword, fingers curled tight.
“Yes?” I prompted, my voice even. I wouldn’t volunteer anything. He was my friend, but I had no intention of adding another witness to my nightmares.
He clenched his jaw, frustration cracking through his worry. When he finally spoke, there was steel in the words. “Don’t push her out.”
“And here I thought you were worried I’d pushyouout.” I let out a slow breath, shrugging it off. “Also—next time? Knock before letting the maid in.”
He gave a short nod, eyes still locked on mine, but I returned my attention to the stack of documents that promised to keep my mind occupied for a few hours more.
Nienna arrived for the midday meal, carrying a tray stacked with food and a steaming cup of plain, unadorned kahve. I bit back a grin when she set a small plate aside for Greaves, pretending not to see him. The kahve was stale—but still preferable to the fish-flavored bathwater she’d offered earlier.
She perched on my lap while we ate, rambling through topics like ship logistics. She wanted to leave for Radaan just as much as I did. Whether out of concern for what Tallon might wreck in my absence, or because she sensed the importance it carried for me, she wouldn’t delay our return.
Something inside me whispered to hurry, that my kingdom was vulnerable without me. But I’d signed the treaty, agreed to remain in Draconia for a month.
