My age lent me confidence. Court politics honed me. Nienna didn’t have that when she came to Radaan. This kingdom was new to me. I couldn’t linger—Vellos’ threat made sure of that—but questions still crowded my mind.
We climbed through the Spire’s core, and I kept away from the railing overlooking the hollow shaft. Heights didn’t scare me, exactly—they unsettled. The Golden Palace’s roof had always been a refuge, and during war, with my stay in the mountains, I fought in valleys. Radaanians belonged to stone and soil, not the skies.
A guttural chirp cut the air. I flinched, glancing to the side.
Ronan sighed.
A blur of blue-green sliced past, gold flecks flashing as the creature tore by, its wings snapping like canvas in the wind.
“Tsunami,” he called, just as a roar rattled through the Spire. “She’s a menace.”
I edged closer to the railing and looked up. She climbed toward the black ceiling, slicing through the air before catching a high ledge with her claws and vanishing into shadow.
Another piercing scream shattered the stillness. I clenched my jaw against the sound. How the Draconis hadn’t all gone deaf was beyond me.
“She’ll outgrow the Cireendium soon,” Ronan muttered, leading the way up the next flight. “But for now, it’s her escape. She stirs up the others, then flees before they can catch her.”
“She hasn’t bonded with a rider?”
“Who would want her?” he snorted. “She’s half feral.”
“A dragon pickedyou.”
His brows rose as he shot me a look over his shoulder. “And Gyrak won’t take another. We crossed the sea and back without rest. Let’s see you manage that.”
“Unnecessary exertions.” I returned his stare, flat and unimpressed.
His expression darkened, lip pulling into a sneer. “It was the right thing to do—she needed distance. Fromyou.”
I didn’t flinch or respond. The boy itched for a fight, and I owed him nothing.
“Tell me this, King Kallias,” he went on. “If you had a sister—or a daughter—and found her tangled up with a man old enough to father herandher betrothed, skirts hitched to her hips–”
“Seen a healer about that eye?” I spat, snatching his jacket. Fisting the leather in one hand I pushed him back and forth examining it. “Be a shame if the other matched.”
He jerked out of my grip, humor drained from his face. “What would you have done?”
“Listened to the sister I grew up with.” I brushed past him as if I knew where I was going. He’d catch up. “The one who understood court politics better than I ever did. Who our parents married off because they trusted her judgment.”
“And see how flawed it was?”
“She didn’t settle for a prince,” I replied, as he fell into step beside me again. “Because a king was in her grasp. I’d say she chose well—for herself and for her nation.”
“Blasted kings and their egos,” he muttered, forging ahead.
I scoffed. He was well on his way to growing one of his own.
We stepped into the hollow of the throne room, the dais looming above like judgment cast in stone. No banners hung from the arching walls—just glossy slabs reflecting pale light from the landing. The space breathed severity. As if Nereus only ever sat on the throne to deliver punishment.
Deep scars clawed across the floor, remnants of Argos’ fury.
Ronan led us toward the open platform. As my boots struck the landing’s first stones, my stomach pitched. From below, it looked formidable. Up close, the sheer drop stole my breath. Maybe wings would’ve helped—or the promise of a dragon to pluck me from death if I slipped.
More likely, they’d chirp at my fall and watch me plummet.
A thunderclap of wingbeats ripped through the air, and I halted as the massive black beast descended, claws raking stone. My pulse startled. The landing groaned beneath his weight.
Argos twisted his head toward us with a growl, foul breath washing over me as he shook his thick neck like a soaked hound. Nereus dismounted in one clean slide, pulling off his goggles and never once glancing back.
