The speed of his recovery still surprised me. Once on land, he had no trouble returning to his usual self. He needed more rest and food, but he was mending, already easing back into his role.
Kallias took in the hut, then pulled the cloak from his shoulders, revealing his gleaming mantle.
“They’re blind,” he said.
“But kind. And loyal.”
I retook my seat, knowing he would not sit until I did. We were still far beyond the city bounds, distant enough that it was safe to bring out Gyrak after nightfall.
“You’ve news?” Fallione asked, remaining upright in the corner, the only free space beyond the bed behind him.
“We have a long road ahead of us.” Kallias ran a hand through his hair, breath escaping him before he continued. “Tallon holds the heirs to the districts in thrall at Reem. There will be no sneaking in.”
My back stiffened. The thought of that monster holding innocents hostage cut too close to what the Innaki king had tried with my people. The urge to insist Tallon burn clawed up my throat, but I forced it down, sealing it away for later.
It took only moments for him to update us on the state of the kingdom. When he spoke of Darius’ fate, his voice dropped into something darker. Death clung to him, a shadow I doubted would lift before the end.
“Then a show of force,” Fallione said, settling onto the bed, his brow creased. “Rally the people. Let them turn on him.”
The threadbare blanket beneath him sagged, riddled with holes. This small hut relied on charity, borrowed warmth, and the quiet generosity of others. And yet, these were Radaanians. Citizens who cared for their own. They did not turn inward, not after all they had endured. They were nothing like the Innaki or the shark-blooded Kulletti.
“We must make them choose a side,” Kallias muttered, studying the knots in the wooden table as though answers hid in the grain.
“It could spark a civil war,” Fallione whispered. His gaze flicked to his sovereign. “Split the nation.”
That roused something in my husband. His eyes found me first, then snapped back to his advisor. “They will follow their king. I have not fought for them my entire life for them to bend to Tallon. They obey him out of fear, not loyalty. I must be larger than their terror.”
I reached out, resting my hand over his calloused one. He met my gaze and dipped his head a fraction.
Yes. Dragons were fiercer than the Velli. They would give our enemy something to flee from.
His thumb pinned my pinkie against his palm, rubbing once. Silent approval.
“If that is His Majesty’s choice, then we must move quickly,” Fallione said, exhaustion weighing his voice. “Each day gives Tallon more to wield against us. We cannot hide the dragon for long, and unless Queen Nienna has further insight, we have no way to know when Draconia’s riders will arrive.”
I pursed my lips and shook my head. “The storm may have sent them wide. If so, they could arrive tomorrow. But it’s possible they chose to wait it out. Having a dragon fly through a tempest and then continue across the sea is too much to ask of the beasts.”
“We plan tomorrow,” Kallias said, leaning forward. “Claus could help rally the city. At first light the following morn, I shall greet Mon with the sun warming my back. Ronan will fly above on Gyrak, discouraging any who attempt to slip east with word. There is only one road, and he can hold it.”
“It buys us time to test Mon,” the advisor muttered his agreement. “Gather men. March to Lon.”
Kallias’ brow tightened. “That will be our first true test.”
“The dragons will have arrived by then,” I said. “I’m certain of it.”
“They make us the greater threat.” Fallione nodded. “I will speak with this Claus, and we will shape a plan.” He rose with a tired breath, smoothing his gray hair. After a low bow, he left the hut, closing the door behind him, leaving me alone with Kallias.
His shoulders eased, only slightly. The smallest sign of peace. His gaze roamed the room, unguarded, before settling on the single, rickety bed.
“I wish there was time to take you to the ship,” he said, weariness lining his eyes as they met mine.
“I tire of the sea’s rocking,” I offered, smiling.
“Better a swaying bed than one that welcomes visitors,” he replied, a faint scoff in his voice.
“My dear king,” I tilted my head, lashes lowered, “are you frightened of a few bugs?”
“I have faced greater foes. Still, I wish I had more to offer my wife.”
