And yet,I would give her more.
A kingdom. A legacy of her own. Nienna had dragons, but she deserved more than sea air and tides. She needed land beneath her feet that stretched to the horizon—a sky unbroken by cliffs and towers. Here she would be stifled, smothered like a vine trying to take root between cracks of a building.
She would either wither, or her roots would shatter the foundation.
When we returned to our chambers, she was careful with me, her movements gentle, her gaze unwavering. Her kisses held no ghosts. Her hands carved away every memory until only Nienna remained.
She wasn’t a shadow tainted by my past. She was light. Real. Present. Mine.
The ocean wind flung Nienna’s hair behind her shoulders, exposing pale skin to the sunlight. She tipped her head back, face tilted to the sky, a wide smile lifting her lips. Her deep green dress snapped and twisted around her legs, the fabric caught in the tug of salt-laced gusts.
I leaned against the ship’s railing, feigning admiration for the endless blue. My chest clenched against the emptiness stretching in every direction. No trees. No cover. Just open sky and the gnawing thought that some great-winged monster might pluck me up and carry me away.
Argos’ shadow rolled across us, and the massive black beast emitted a low, mournful groan. His golden eye fixed on Nereus, who stood with his captain, bent over a map.
I counted myself fortunate to remain above deck—far from Greaves, who battled for his life. He’d fared poorly from the first swell, unable to keep down so much as water. The man could stand against Velli spears, but a ship’s gentle sway undid him—a blow to the poor man’s confidence.
“Look!”
Nienna pointed toward a fin slicing through the water. A whale surfaced, exhaling a misty plume. Its dark bulk carved through the surf, magnificent in its grace.
Then Argos dropped from the sky.
The whale’s tail arced above the waves just as the dragon’s claws struck. Blood sprayed into the air. Water churned beneath them, a whirlpool of violence as Argos wrestled to lift the creature. It thrashed free with a heave, slipping from his grasp. With a grumbled growl, the dragon wheeled and soared back toward Draconia.
The voyage to the continent passed with little else to note. My men shifted and paced, nerves running thin. The Draconis crew did what they could to ease their anxiety. Nereus offered reassurances, claiming no monsters lurked the forests. Any deaths came only from natural causes.
By the next morning, land rose on the horizon. Hills thick with trees stretched toward the sky, but along the shoreline, the forest had been pared back. Stumps dotted the sand, and felled trunks lay in neat rows. Several ships waited at makeshift docks carved into the shore.
As we disembarked, a man approached—leathery skin browned by sun, face wrinkled like dried fruit. A wide-brimmed hat flopped over his brow, matched by his baggy clothes that hung loose on a wiry frame.
“King Nereus!” he shouted, voice booming across the waves. “Good to have you!” He pulled the man into a back-slapping hug. His clouded gaze caught on Nienna and me, and he paused.
Nereus gestured between us with a flick of his hand. “Barchalk—my daughter, Nienna. And her husband, King Kallias Sunspear of Radaan.”
He recoiled, eyes wide, jaw slack. “She married the king? I heard about the–” He clamped his mouth shut as I lifted my chin, stiffening. “There were whispers of news… but not that she married. Beg your pardon, Your Majesty.” He bowed deep, snatching his hat from his head.
“Well met, Master Barchalk,” Nienna said, gaze drifting to the busy shore.
“We’ve come to offer aid,” I added, drawing the man’s confused stare back to me.
Nereus slung an arm over his shoulder, guiding him toward the sand. “They’ll be with us a few weeks yet. Might as well put the foresters to work.”
They weren’t forest men. Plainsmen. Sailors. Used to wind-bent trees and open fields—not the dense thickets of western Radaan. Still, I let the Dragon King’s words pass without correction.
Nienna slipped her hand through my arm as we stepped from the gangplank. Greaves followed close, face pallid, desperate for solid earth under his boots. The thud of our steps vanished beneath the clamor of saws and shouted orders.
Men hauled timber, stripped bark, sawed lengths into beams. Lumber flowed in a steady rhythm from the forest to the ships. I frowned at the camp. No buildings, only canvas tents. No roots in the land. As though they could vanish by dawn.
Nienna’s fingers squeezed my arm. Her expression stayed calm, but I felt the tension beneath her skin. The sand crunched underfoot, bleached so white it forced me to squint toward the distant treeline. They logged with precision, neat and orderly, but no signs of regrowth marked the cleared ground.
If they meant to settle, they’d need space. But if they only wanted wood, they should treat the land as a farm—harvest, then replant.
Simple thoughts. A farmer-king’s thoughts. Likely not ones that ever crossed a Dragon King’s mind.
We followed him and Barchalk to a canopy shading a table.
“Any developments?” he asked.
