“Ready rooms for the king and queen!” Baldur’s voice boomed. His emphasis on my title made it clear I was to receive the same loyalty and respect as Kallias. “Prepare the dining hall! Lock down Mon! Anyone who leaves the city walls will be eaten by the dragon!”
I didn’t correct him.
Servants bustled, dipping into deep bows as we passed. My dress swayed between my legs, boots snapping against the wooden floors. My mantle’s chains jingled and clinked with each step, a reminder of my place.
Baldur held a study door open for us, then moved to shut it. Claus stepped forward, hand raised, eyes searching Kallias’ face for permission.
“You are neither the Kingsguard nor his advisor, Thresher,” Baldur said, voice low. “You arrived with the Black Guard. Perhaps you are better suited to secure them, now that our king has returned, than lingering here.”
Claus ignored him, eyes fixed on my husband—the same single-minded loyalty Lynx, the Thresher assigned to me in Reem, had shown.
“Do as he says.” Kallias dismissed him, lowering his spear to rest on a thick rug.
No shame crossed the Thresher’s face. He bowed and retreated behind the door without hesitation.
Baldur blinked twice, then pushed out a weary sigh. “I’m so glad you’ve returned.”
“Returning to find a nation split in two,” Fallione spat, venom dripping from each word.
“Radaan holds no loyalty to Tallon,” Baldur said, jerking a hand toward me. “Your Majesty.”
“Speak freely, as you would with them,” I assured him. Respect acknowledged, but etiquette would not slow the conversation.
Baldur closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Radaan has been waiting for your return. Things fell apart shortly after your departure.” He sank into the seat behind his desk.
“I am here to set it right,” Kallias said, guard raised. He was tense, not yet relaxed as he was with Fallione or Greaves. This man had earned no familiarity. “Can I trust Mon? Will they march with me?”
Baldur’s head snapped up, astonished. “You plan to take Lon?”
“Reem was my intent.” A note of care slipped into his voice. “Has it fallen?”
“He has Jackie.”
The words landed like a war drum. Silence pressed in, heavy and suffocating. Whoever Jackie was, my husband knew—and it mattered. My palms itched. I wanted to touch my dress, sit, anything to break the unnerving stillness.
“I will get him back,” Kallias murmured, softer now, compassion in his voice.
“Sixteen years,” Baldur said, desperation sharpening each word. Fingers splayed across papers. “I fought alongside you for sixteen years. The Velli War ended right before he turned seventeen. He just missed conscription—and you would throw him into another war?”
Kallias slammed his spear’s hilt into the rug. I stifled a gasp at the clang, abrupt and jarring.
“No, I have not returned to start another war,” he growled. “I have come home with a Draconis Queen, accomplishing what Tallon failed. With her at my side, I can secure peace—for ourgeneration, and for Jackie. What I don’t know is if Mon accepts her queen, or instead intends to suffer her dragonfire.”
Fallione stepped forward, weathered face pinched. “Mon is expected to march under the banner of Radaan, delivering justice to the traitors.”
Baldur’s hooded gaze shifted to me. I stayed still, muscles locked, refusing to betray the slightest movement under his scrutiny.
“Many follow Tallon out of fear,” he said carefully. “I refuse to endanger my heir.”
Kallias stiffened, grip tightening on his spear, leather creaking under pressure.
“But I trust Elohios’ Chosen,” Baldur continued. “As do my people. Only Tallon’s Black Guard worries me. The citizens of Mon march with you, my king. If I die, it shall be in the name of saving my son.”
“Your line will not end,” Kallias assured him. “Though mine has been severed.”
The day blurred into motion. Staff from our Dragon Ship were summoned, and plans for marching east around the great bay were laid swiftly. Men pored over maps and papers, while Lady Beatrice of Mon attempted several times to pull me aside and insist I ‘rest.’ My soft refusals went ignored. Finally, I had to declare that Draconis queens were not the type to sit idle while their husbands did all the fighting.
I had teeth and claws, and I would find a way to use them for my king.
