Her teeth caught her lower lip, brows pinched with worry. “No rider can command the weather. It’s too vast. A force unto itself.”
“Yet your father endured a whirlstorm,” I said.
“He’s one of three Wells known to Draconia,” Ronan hissed. His hand dragged through damp hair, fingers snagging on his flight goggles. He tore them free and tipped out the water. “A feat that won’t be repeated. Not every rider carries the magic of the eons at their disposal.”
I heaved a sigh and glanced at the scrap of parchment still resting on the table. We were caught in this storm until the gods grew merciful.
“Then I’ll petition Radaan’s gods.” I stood, the chains of my mantle chiming as the ship rolled beneath us.
“What good they did Radaan.”
My hand closed on his shoulder as I passed, grip tightening until his teeth bared in reflex.
“Choose your words with care, princeling. You sail beneath my gods’ mercy.”
He shrugged free, and I turned for the stairs. The sea toyed with the ship, slamming it from side to side, and each step demanded balance. Greaves lay below, suspended between uneasy sleep and waking with a bucket clenched between his knees. I craved his company.
Ronan was a Dragon Rider. A Draconis. Pride sharpened by rank, ego fueled by youth. Nienna, gentle as she was, still felt compelled to soften truths for me.
And I remained, despite all of it, painfully ignorant of their world.
There was only one place I could find a measure of peace.
The ship lurched sideways, and I braced a hand against the worn wood. Frustration clawed through me as I left Niennamurmuring to her brother and climbed the stairs, pushing through the door to the main deck.
A growl fused with thunder as rain slammed into me. I lifted my chin and moved forward. Draconis’ voices vanished beneath the storm as I passed a mountain of coiled black scales. One golden eye slit open, tracking me. Gyrak kept his head tucked under his wing, refusing to move. A low rumble warned me away, making his irritation at my proximity known, yet he remained sprawled between me and my quarters. He could tolerate my presence for a moment.
Water slicked the deck. Cold air cut through my clothes. My boot skidded, and I caught myself as waves struck the hull, saltwater rushing over my feet.
Midday had surrendered to darkness. The sky pressed low and black, night masquerading as afternoon. Lightning tore through the clouds, a confirmation Ronan couldn’t fly Gyrak without riders to shield him. Each flare cast stark light across the captain at the helm, steady and unfazed by the storm’s fury.
One last sliding step carried me past the dragon. I stumbled, caught myself on the captain’s door, and slipped inside. Solid wood met my back as I leaned into it. Water dripped from my clothes, tapping against the floor. My eyes closed, head resting against the frame.
Despair clung to me. Heavy. Infectious. Worry rooted in things beyond my reach and a future stripped of certainty.
I had bartered for Nienna’s hand with brutish determination and the promise of a kingdom.
Now I had nothing left to offer.
A king of nothing.
My jaw tightened as I straightened and struck flint to steel. The lantern flared, its light weak, but enough. Ronan would have conjured flame with a snap, but my hands answered to old rituals.
I hung it on a hook, its sway casting restless shadows across the small space I shared with my wife. My queen.
A narrow bed. A tiny desk and humble closet. And, tucked into the corner, a shrine.
A ghost of comfort stirred, pushing back against my helplessness. Elohios knew I served as a conduit for his power. He had blessed my pursuit of Nienna, my honesty with myself, my vow to honor her. He would not abandon me.
Yet unease whispered doubt.
If I had been chosen, if I had truly been blessed, why had Radaan fallen? Was my absence the cause? Or had this been punishment?
My knees complained as I knelt and righted the fallen sun engraving on the altar.
Tallon’s conquest of Reem stood as a consequence. A reckoning born of my decisions. The fault lay with me, and when I thought back, there were a million choices I might’ve made differently.
But choosing Nienna was not one of them.
