Ending the conversation, I strode down the dais—chin high, shoulders squared. No longer was I the cornered, diminished princess who returned from Radaan.
I had purpose now.
I would be a queen.
Wind tore at my hair as Tsunami streaked overhead. Her sea-green scales, flecked with gold, caught the sun’s last rays. On the landing’s edge, I clenched my core and braced against the gust she left behind.
Far below, scattered figures flowed through the streets—Draconis returning home after a long day’s work. One more day, and celebration would take over the island. The Awakening. A festival of song and fire, dancing and games, food and stories passed beneath rising stars.
And Kallias would witness it all.
I leaned back on my hands, head tilted to catch the last warmth of the sun. Strands of hair tickling the backs of my fingers. Would it be braided for my wedding? Plaited and pinned in the traditional Draconis style? Usually, yes—fordragonflight—but none would let Kallias ride. Our ceremony would be bound to the land.
“Ready for the Awakening?”
I opened my eyes. Father leaned over me, white beard pulled to one side by the curve of a knowing smirk.
“I’ve yet to convince Williard to make a kite for the ceremony.” With a huff, I shifted as he dropped beside me, letting him block the worst of the gale.
He gave a short hum, then caught a fistful of my wild hair. With gentle, practiced hands, he coiled it into a knot and tied it at the nape of my neck.
“He’s old,” he said. “Time he let the others do it.”
“One kite’s nothing for him,” I muttered, laying my head on his shoulder.
“And what if his kite outshines all his apprentice’s?” he asked, wrapping an arm around me. “How do you think Kai would take that?”
“They should strive for mastery.”
A low grunt rattled his chest. “Kai’s got talent, but his pride is barbed. He needs encouragement, not competition. Too much pressure and he’ll turn bitter.”
“It’s an honor to craft the kites for the Awakening,” I chafed.
“And it’s an honor to rule.” His gray eyes held mine, steady and solemn. “People are not alike. You must know them—read their moods, guess their fears. Rule them not just for the kingdom’s good, but for their soul’s.”
I turned his words over in my mind.
How would Tallon react when I returned as his crowned queen? Had his father warned him? Or would I be the surprise that shattered him?
He would rage. Lash out. Possibly worse than before. We would never reconcile. Would Kallias cast him out? Would I be expected to visit him? Or would he demand the right to visit us?
A vision flickered across my mind—Tallon older, silver laced through his hair, hatred burning in his eyes. A villain. My villain. A monster worse than the Velli.
“You’re seeing him tomorrow?”
I blinked, shaken free from the image. I wouldn’t borrow tomorrow’s troubles.
“Yes—I’ll make my case one more time.”
Father exhaled, slowand deep. “Take Mikal.”
“And does Kallias have free roam of the island?”
He stiffened against me, agitation sharpening his gaze. “Last I checked, he was no longer shackled.”
“He would respect your wishes if you demanded he stay in the Spire.”
“Respect?” He scoffed. “He listens because Argos will swallow him whole if he doesn’t.”
