“Then I apologize for her landing, but I haven’t a clue why she’s here.”
She scooted forward, a shimmy of her hips, claws digging into the earth. The clicks came again, as if she were asking for something.
“Should I do anything?” I asked, wishing Nienna were here. I shouldn’t have to ask a rider what to do.
“Any other person, I’d say reach out to her—but unless you’re willing to lose a limb, I wouldn’t advise it.”
A limb might be worth it just to be rid of her.
I passed my reins to Greaves. His lips parted briefly before he clenched his jaw, remembering his place. His gloved hand closed over mine—the only warning he would give before I stepped forward.
Her head bolted upright, and I froze.
“Easy does it,” Mikal murmured, as if I were a boy approaching a wild stallion.
Another step.
Her muzzle drooped back toward the earth, and she sniffed, nostrils flaring wider than my skull. She didn’t lunge or strike, but waited as I approached. Two paces from her scaled lips, and my boots felt as if they had sprouted roots. She shifted, a singlemassive eye locking onto me, narrowing to a slit before blowing out.
I dared not reach out to touch her. She was too unpredictable for that. Nienna, though, spoke to beasts—even this one—and they seemed to understand her.
“What is it you want?” My voice stayed low, aware that all my soldiers watched in tense silence.
She emitted a soft croon before twisting to rise. Her massive form loomed over me, tips of fangs protruding from a muzzle that blotted out the sun. My fingers clenched into an uneasy fist, but she only sampled the air once more.
After a long, searching inhale, the force of her breath tousled my hair.
A definitive rumble trickled out, and she pulled back, surveying the men surrounding us, bored with me. I frowned as her bulk retreated. Elmo let out an irritated huff, but she ignored him, scanning the sky once before spreading her wings.
A gale blew past me as she launched skyward—whatever question she had, answered.
With a shake of my head, I returned to Greaves. His brooding glare warned me I had an earful coming once we were alone.
“Did you tell her to go?” Mikal asked, though I heard the silent accusation behind his words. Not malicious, just disbelief. Only a bonded could send a dragon away.
Or my wife.
“I am the King of Radaan,” I replied, mounting again. “Dragons fall under my queen’s authority. I would not presume to order them about.”
The executions took place the following day.
I didn’t want Nienna there—not when the traitors had been sentenced to beheading. A hanging wouldn’t have been any better, but for some reason I wanted to keep her pure, unsullied. She had already witnessed too much death—administered it herself.
But she insisted. And Fallione took her side, arguing that the people needed to be reminded why this punishment was meted out. They had to witness Nienna and me together, acknowledge us as their combined rulers.
We sat on wooden thrones, vines wrapping the wood, marking how long it had been since I witnessed an execution of my own people. Every noble present during Tallon’s coup lined the courtyard. They would witness this brutality and know that the responsibility fell on their shoulders too.
A crowd of Radaanians gathered—not the noisy mobs I’d heard of, but a silent assembly. The gravity of the moment drowned out all conversation.
“Today, Nyryn is satisfied,” I called, voice ringing above the congregation. I invoked not Elohios, but the god of battle and vengeance. “Those slain here have been tried by the high court, free of noble influence, and found guilty of treason. By supporting the usurper, they have betrayed their gods and their true king. Hundreds of innocent Radaanian lives were lost.
“I hereby oversee their death.”
Nienna sat beside me, her grip light on my hand. She was ready, prepared to witness the end of those who had wronged us.
The first man was led to the stage, back straight, chin held high. Proud. He had the large build of a blacksmith, girth spilling over his belt.
All the more blood to soak the ground.
