He had asked me the same question once—after the first night with Eldeiade.
With a growl, I lunged. We fell into motion, blades snapping and twisting in tight arcs. Each movement deliberate. Every counter mattered. One mistake could brand us both.
He ducked beneath my guard and clamped an arm around my neck, lips at my ear. “She’s not Eldeiade.”
“Then why does she remind me of her?!” I roared, swinging wild and hard.
He grunted, rolled free of my reach.
“Why do I see black hair instead of blonde? Why does my mind betray me?” My blade came down again. “Why can’t I forget?!”
My muscles screamed. Each strike slammed against his sword, arms shaking from the impact. Pain told me I was strong, that I was still standing. Not the beaten king who hid from his wife.
Or was I?
Was this fighting? Or flailing in her shadow?
Her ghost laughed in my mind. Delighted. Triumphant. I’d pushed Nienna away—and Eldeiade was winning.
I turned and hurled the sword. My scream cracked through the chamber.
Kallias Sunspear, King of Radaan, a pawn in his dead wife’s game.
Steel scraped across the floor, echoing sharp. My rage throbbed beneath my skin. I needed to break something. Prove I wasn’t weak. Prove I could still feel.
“Kal–”
“You wouldn’t understand,” I spat, even though he did. He heard the whispers and rumors, saw the stares I endured. Witnessed her cruelty, the jabs I never dodged. She had broken me—the one person I was supposed to trust.
“Pick up your sword, Kallias.”
I turned, teeth bared. Nereus stood in the doorway, expression unreadable.
Greaves shifted aside, the loyal guard once more.
“I said, pick it up,” Nereus snapped, his voice rising.
“This isn’t your business,” I bit back, holding tight to the chaos boiling in my chest.
He drew his sword, stepping into the ring. “You married my daughter. That makes it my business.”
He swung—not fast, not reckless. Just enough to force movement. I ducked, dove for my blade, and caught it in time to block.
Greaves fought fair. Nereus did not. He struck with a power I couldn’t match, strength too sharp, too sure. He had to be using magic—each blow faster than the last, each step more relentless. I barely had a chance to breathe before his sword came again and again, forcing me out of our circle.
His teeth flashed. “Where’s your light now, King of Radaan?” He dipped under my guard and slammed the hilt against my ribs. Air left my lungs in a wheeze.
Gods. Hewasusing magic.
I stumbled sideways, lungs clawing for breath.
Elohios,hear me.Lend me your strength.
My sword arm flew up to block another strike, but my skin—pale, bare—offered no protection. No glow shimmered beneath the surface. No flicker of light answered my plea. Only silence.
“You’ve let your past chain you,” Nereus said, stepping back as his blade dipped in a slow arc, tip brushing the ground.
My chest rose in heavy, rattling breaths. Pain throbbed deep in my ribs, a steady beat beneath the louder cry of pride.
