The wound along my neck pinched and stung as I shifted; a reminder of how dangerous Tallon was. After the wedding, we would find him. We’d make him pay for his treason or chase him over the Craggs. He deserved nothing less than death by fire, but I knew if he fled over the mountains, Kallias would let him go.
For all the killing Kallias had done, he hated it. He would protect what was his, reclaim his home, defend his people, but he would not venture into Vellos looking to spark another war.
It wasn’t worth fighting for the rest of his life.
The dragons would be stationed at the Craggs, and if they saw a Velli, they were to burn them on sight.
Therefore, I wanted Tallon caught before he escaped.
Edith’s hand pressed into the small of my back. I sniffed and straightened at her gentle reminder. Chin lifted, I stared at the woman in the mirror who would rule at Kallias’ side.
No. Not would—didrule. I was queen. This was only a show for the people.
While the women fussed with my dress, my thoughts wandered. My husband would ask the blessing from his god yet again. He had magic; I knew it. I didn’t understand his relationship with the divine, but I respected it.
“Tell me, Alma,” I said, “did Kallias’ father call the light of Elohios on his wedding day?”
She glanced up from the flowers she was pinning, adjusting her glasses over gray eyes. “Oh no, Your Majesty. He never had the visible blessing of the gods.”
“Never?”
Shock sharpened the word. When I was betrothed to Tallon, I knew the stories. Rumors and legends, but I heard them. I expected it to be hereditary.
“Our king is favored,” she explained, pleased. “We’ve not had a sovereign so blatantly chosen in several generations. When he lit with Elohios’ light, it was a joyous day for all of Radaan. His parents were so proud.”
“You saw?” Jealousy crept in despite myself.
“I was naught more than four years,” she said, smoothing a violet petal. “But I remember. There’s a depiction in the western hall near the solar. I could take you, if you wish.”
“I would. And the records before, the light of Elohios, they’re the same accounts? How do people know it’s the same blessing?”
“King Sunspear’s grandfather, five generations back, shared the affinity. The portrait was removed to the archives, but it is enough that it happens every time King Kallias calls upon Elohios. There is no other explanation.”
Besides magic.
She continued, “King Ulgari only used the gift once in history, when he took the Crater in the north. Beyond that, he never showed it again.”
My husband was rare not only because his god answered, but because the light came so often.
Pride warmed my skin. I would have loved him if he were a simple farmer and I, a plain maid. But he was special. Unique. I needed to see the paintings, learn more about this. It was all so strange to me, impossible to grasp. A blind calling, a prayer rooted in faith. Elohios had never spoken to him, never appeared, not even in dreams.
Belief alone carried the power.
Once the fitting ended and we were content with the dress, Alma agreed to take me to the portrait of young Kallias, but only after I saw the healer again. The scab itched, and the ointment used to relieve the sensation would hopefully prevent any scarring.
I sat on the bed in the small room as the healer picked at the sticky bandage, nerves clear in the tension of his hands. The royal medical ward was cozy, disguised as another bedchamber, only smaller and crowded with dressers. Shelves lined the wall, sunlight catching in amber bottles and scattering gold across the stone.
When they pinched my skin, I winced, swallowing the hiss that climbed my throat.
“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. Forgive my–”
“I was raised among dragons, healer,” I ground out. “I can manage. Just rip it off.”
He blanched, his swallow so forced I heard it. Alma lingered in the doorway, her smirk hidden behind the papers she pretended to study.
The wound itself was not the worst of it. The sap they used to adhere the cloth clung like resin.
With a sharp jerk, the bandage tore free. My nails dug into my dress as fire raced along my skin. White cloth dangled from his hand while the healer stared at me, mouth parted, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just done.
