After dinner, Nienna led me to the private dining room—the same cramped space where Nereus had invaded my mind, my memories. A phantom touch tingled across my scalp. Even with Nienna here, her presence did little to quiet it. I would never carry magic, never allow another soul into my thoughts again.
He’d unearthed ghosts in mere breaths. A shiver crept through my veins, but I stifled the shudder.
“Great,twoold men.” Ronan leaned back in his chair, feet tossed onto the table. He crossed them at the ankles with a dramatic flair.
“Be civil,” Nyxaria warned, eyeing his boots with disdain.
Nienna turned to Greaves. “We’ll be fine.”
He gave her the briefest glance before fixing on me again. His stance held tension—solid, watchful—not out of disrespect, but habit.
I nodded my assurance. “Go. I’ll check in before I turn in.”
He dipped his head without a word and took his leave. Part of me longed for the relaxed version of him I had in Radaan—the friend who laughed with ease and walked at my side, not in my shadow. Here, there were too many ears listening, too many eyes. I missed his company.
“He’s a good man,” Nereus said, swirling amber liquid in his cup, staring after Greaves.
I drew out a chair for Nienna beside her mother. “Saved my life more than once,” I muttered.
That left the spot next to Ronan for me.
“A decent guard is hard to come by. A loyal one? Rarer still.” Nereus reclined in his seat, cup in hand, nodding as if to himself.
As I sat, the prince inched his boots into my space, and I smacked them off the table. They thumped to the floor, and he rolled his eyes, tipping his chair on its back legs.
“How goes the search for Vessels?” Nienna’s father asked, sipping his drink.
“Harder than expected.” She sighed, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder. “We need candidates without families or ties to the islands. That list is short. And sifting through the rest? Tedious.”
“Then tighten the net.” He grunted. “Kallias and I will settle which riders will fly to Radaan. Then search for their Vessels.”
Nienna squinted, gazing at the wall. “That would narrow it down significantly.”
“They only work with certain riders?” I asked.
Nereus nodded. “Too much pressure otherwise—lightens the load. And you don’t want just anyone poking inside your brain.”
His eyes cut through me—sharp, deliberate. I’d built walls around my memories. Surely he couldn’t have seen more than I allowed.
“It’s a symbiotic relationship,” Nyxaria added. “The two have to get along to anchor the flow of magic. Both sides have to agree.”
“Some refuse pairings outright,” Ronan said. “Either side reserves the right to decline the connection.”
I deadpanned. “I can’t imagine anyone willingly lets you in their head.”
He scoffed. “I’m royalty. I don’t answer to the common man. Just as no one expects Father to power the mage lights.”
“We are royalty,” I corrected. “And we answer to every man.”
Nereus lifted his brows, chin dipping in agreement as Ronan’s pride took the hit.
A dragon roared outside, and I glanced up at the ceiling.
“You plan for dragons to hold the Craggs?” Nereus pulled my attention back to the table.
“I want them scattered through my watchtowers,” I said, resting a hand against my thigh. “A visible threat to deter the Velli.”
“You think they’ll invade again?” Ronan’s tone held genuine curiosity.
