“Fallione is–”
“My advisor,” he interrupted, “and friend. One who witnessed my last failed marriage and the chaos that followed. I do not wish for him to see a pattern.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
“In Draconia, there was too much that I didn’t understand,” he continued. “But when it comes to my people, my kingdom, let me guide our path.”
Trust. He wanted me to trust him.
“You are my queen.” His gaze softened, reading the frustration and words I left unsaid. “I will hear you. You are welcome to speak freely to any audience, but take care not to undermine me.”
My heart twisted, desperate to pull back and scream that I hadn’t pushed too hard. But this was not some average man. He had suffered too much already. Distance would only carve the wound deeper between us.
“I will be more careful,” I said, covering his hand with mine. “But remember, I am not her. I am your wife. Your partner. I only want to aid you.”
“My equal.” The corner of his mouth lifted, faint but real, the most I would draw from him so close to Radaan. “My queen.”
My lips curved as I stepped closer, pressing my side against his. His hand settled at my waist, anchoring me there as we searched the horizon together.
Morning felt distant, yet not near enough. Nerves chewed at my resolve, questions spiraling over what awaited beyond the waves.
Sleep never came. We withdrew to our chambers for a handful of hours, silence thick between us as we lay on the narrow bed, each trapped inside thoughts of what dawn might bring.
The ship would dock before sunrise, giving us time to hide Gyrak. As if a dragon of his size could truly be hidden.
Kallias spoke of cliffside caves in Wellmoor, tall and deep enough to shield the beast from sight.
“Where are we going once we reach shore?” I asked. “A city? Or is it a smaller town?”
“We?” Kallias echoed, his voice thin, stretched taut.
My throat tightened. In the dim light, my eyes snapped open as his arm drew closer around my waist, the smallest tightening betraying him.
“I assume we’ll bring Greaves and Fallione. My brother–”
“You will stay with the ship.”
Breath caught hard in my chest. I pushed myself upright. There were many things I would yield to him, many places I would let him lead, but I would not be left behind like fragile cargo.
“I will not.” My nose scrunched as I frowned at him.
Soft light revealed the worry etched into his expression. Anger did not live there. Resignation did. He had known this moment would come.
“I am Draconis. We do not hide,” I murmured, resting my palm against his thigh.
“You will be safe aboard the ship. Gyrak can carry you back if it comes to that.”
“Do you think I left Draconia knowing the state of your nation only to sit and watch while Tallon tears everything from you?” I shook my head once, firm. On this, I would not budge. “I sailed with you toward a kingdom on the brink of war, and you believe I would drop my mantle and scurry home like some reprimanded hatchling?”
He drew in a long breath, holding my gaze. Watching. Waiting for a fracture, a sign my resolve might bend. “And if we are attacked? If our lives are threatened?”
“I have a dragon, dear husband. My concern lies with anyone foolish enough to try to harm me.”
His mouth flattened. “You keep to the shore.”
“Will you?” I asked.
“Fallione and I are to venture to the city to test the people’s temperament.” His eye twitched. “Wellmoor sits too far west of Reem and the Craggs. The locals already regard me with suspicion. Add Tallon and whatever lies he’s spun, and–” He paused, taking a breath to slow his words. “I refuse to have you among them without the strength of my nation behind you.”
