“We take first meal with the commoners during the Awakening,” Mother said, already turning toward the throne room. “Will you join us, King Kallias?”
“It would be my pleasure.” He dipped his chin. I brushed my thumb along the inside of his arm as he pivoted to follow.
She led us down the palace terraces to the courtyard, packed shoulder to shoulder with civilians. Blankets covered the dewy grass, and children darted between adults, who carried baskets brimming with food. Dragons landed briefly on rooftops, their claws chipping stone before they leapt away once their riders dismounted.
The scent of warm bread curled in the air—thicker than usual. Where would we get that much grain without an Innaki ship?
I glanced at Kallias.
His bright gaze danced the crowd, radiant with calculation. The fine lines at the corners of his eyes deepened under the sun, but his expression stayed relaxed.
“You brought goods from Radaan.” I didn’t ask. It surprised me, though. I hadn’t expected him to offer them without using them to sweeten negotiations.
He looked down at me. “Your marriage was to secure grain. Seemed foolish to arrive empty-handed.”
“And you gave it away for the festival?”
“It matters to your people,” he said, guiding me down the steps. “Call it my contribution to the festivities.”
I pressed closer, heart warming as I lifted my chin toward the crowd. He hadn’t used Radaan’s goods to buy favor. He gave them freely—to win the hearts of my people.
By their smiles, it worked.
We waded into the throng. Greaves kept close. A toddler slammed into my leg, let out a delighted squeal, and tore off waving a hunk of steaming bread. I laughed as a sibling scrambled after them with a quick apology.
Draconis overflowed into the streets, spreading to rooftops where blankets had been laid out, legs dangling over the edge. In the center of the courtyard, Edith and Freya waited, a white and silver blanket spread wide enough for all of us.
During the Awakening, royalty walked among the people. No thrones. No ceremony. Just humans sharing food, sky, and breath. A reminder of what we truly were.
Mother lowered herself gracefully, settling onto the crisp fabric. I nudged Kallias down beside her. His brow furrowed, as if unsure about sitting while the masses stood. For most royals, seating themselves lower than their people was a foreign concept.
I dropped to my knees and stared up at him. That wrinkle deepened, then eased as he followed suit. He stretched his legs in front of him, still stiff, still watching.
“We all are mortals,” I said, noting the twist in his mantle. I fought the urge to fix it. One day I would. But not yet—not until my people accepted him. “Here, the ground is level.”
Father made his way through the crowd, stopping to greet others with a smile and hearty slaps on the shoulder. He was a rider, yes—but still their king.
“Even Dragon Riders come back to earth,” I said. “A reminder that the same blood flows in all our veins.” These traditions were second nature to me. To him, they were stories, observations scribbled in history books.
Father joined us with a look at Kallias that started hard but softened at the sight of Mother. He sat with a grunt. Edith opened the basket beside her, thescent of jam and bread rose like morning mist from the grass. My stomach tightened.
Two children shrieked with laughter nearby, tumbling across someone’s blanket. A couple a few spots over burst into giggles. Joy and mirth spread as if it were a ripple through water, catching on others.
Kallias snorted at their antics, chewing a thick slice of bread. He was different here. Something in him had shifted. His mantle still weighed on him, but his eyes lit with something lighter—curiosity. It lent him an air of youthfulness, watching the Draconis with ease. He leaned back on his arm, noting my father’s informality.
This would be my last Awakening on the island.
And I was glad I shared it with him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kallias
The Awakening wasn’t what I expected. Fallione roused me early, whispering about customs and traditions. I held on to what I could while the sky still clung to night. I hadn’t prepared for a pre-dawn summons—least of all for what happened on the landing.
But if Draconia’s queen invited me to share a private moment before I was officially a member of their family, I wouldn’t let it pass me by.
Nienna’s face lit like a sunrise, and every hour of missed sleep faded behind her glow. Watching the dragons perform their ceremony felt as if I were witnessing a living legend. I wished Radaan’s people could stand beside me and see it unfold.
