Across the empty plain, distant shouts drifted on the wind. Gyrak’s roar carried over the distance, a warning sharp enough to wake the slumbering streets.
Our shadows stretched before us, the sun warming our backs, as the gates groaned open, revealing a small band of horsemen.
Kallias and I advanced, Fallione and Greaves following. While the riders from Mon charged in a reckless gallop, we kept our mounts restrained in a collected walk. Royalty did not rush.
The emerald banner of Radaan snapped above them, slapping in the wind kicked up by their frenzy. Dust swirled from the road as Kallias slowed, lowering his spear. Its tip caught the sunlight, glinting with a fiery edge, aimed at the foremost rider.
A balding man in purple finery led the group. The six figures behind him—a mix of guards and perhaps servants—halted, watching.
He dismounted with haste, dropping to his knees in the dirt.
“King Kallias of Radaan!” His voice rang across the plain before his forehead touched the earth.
“Baldur of Mon. I have returned to a nation questioning her king. By Elohios’ light, where do your loyalties lie?” His spear followed the man’s bent figure, poised but steady.
“On my life and the lives of our people, Mon answers only to Kallias Sunspear, King of the Plentiful Plains!”
The men behind him mirrored his motion, dropping to their knees in unison, heads bowed.
“And Nienna Draconis, The Dragon’s Heart?” My husband’s voice cut cold and detached. Gyrak’s shadow stretched over us, chilling the air. “Do you serve the Queen of Radaan?”
Baldur’s attention snapped to me. His eyes flicked to the delicate chains along my shoulders, then widened at the dragon looming behind. His composure faltered, shrinking a fraction before he steadied himself. “I, Baldur’mon, and those of my city, serve those chosen by the gods, yoked by Radaan’s mantle.” His voice wavered, but as his gaze shifted back to Kallias, his confidence returned. He straightened, kneeling firmly. “Mon opens her gates to receive the true King of Radaan.”
The golden spear hovered near his neck, testing the value of the man’s claim. With a swift motion, he raised it skyward, releasing the tension, allowing Mon to live.
“We will retire to your estate,” Kallias commanded. “Lock down the city. Anyone who leaves shall be at the mercy of Queen Nienna’s dragon.”
Pride bloomed in my chest, warmth spreading through chilled limbs. He acknowledged me. My name, my title, had become a weapon in his hand. A small smile tugged at my lips, but I straightened in the saddle.
“As you wish, Your Majesty!” Baldur scrambled to mount, brushing the dirt from his trousers without delay. “This way.”
Relief washed over me. We were halfway through the first phase. Now, we would ride through the city, under the eyes of its people.
Verdis, let them accept me. I prayed in silence, knowing she answered before. As her queen, I would honor her and place my prayers at her feet.
Mon’s riders joined Claus behind us, Baldur leading. We cantered into the streets, Ronan keeping Gyrak poised at our backs. The dragon blocked the road, deterring anyone attempting to escape toward Lon or Reem.
“Close the gates!” Baldur called to the guards as we passed, our pace unbroken, charging through the heart of the city.
Citizens leaned from windows and doorways, every alley filled with curious faces. The rhythmic beat of hoofbeats struck against my chest, each stride echoing behind my ribcage.
A lone cheer broke the tension. I stared ahead, refusing to see who had started it.
That single cry became a spark. Others joined, pounding fists to chests, shouting, “King Kallias! King of the Plentiful Plains!”
Few remained silent, but I noticed them. The budding generation. Those slightly younger than I, faces dirty and gaunt, with no elders to guide them. Orphans with no loyalty owed to Kallias. They were the ones who might follow Tallon, believing he could lead them to a brighter future—unaware he would only bring death.
That monster was incapable of anything good.
It didn’t take long to realize Baldur’mon was taking us in a circuit, ending at his estate in the city’s center. He made a spectacle, letting his people see that we had returned.
Together.
A king and his new queen.
I liked this Baldur.
We arrived in a flurry of activity. After we dismounted and our horses were led away, we climbed the stone steps. The estate rose as a marvel of masonry. I barely glimpsed the peak high above before we ducked into its halls.
