By the time the sun sank below the horizon, and long after, Gyrak and Ronan continued to watch the eastern road.The Black Guard had been apprehended and bound, awaiting judgment once Reem was secured.
And still, Kallias labored over the maps.
Greaves lounged in a chair nearby, arms crossed over his bandolier of daggers, head tilted against the wall. Eyes closed, yet alert. Every faint movement made his brows twitch, a subtle rhythm of awareness before he relaxed again.
“Kallias, we’ve done all we can,” I whispered, leaning over his shoulder. A map sprawled across the desk, small stones marking our forces.
“All we can,” he echoed under his breath. “Here’s where I worry.” His finger hovered over the gap between Reem and Sol. “I will lose him here.”
My hand moved to the nape of his neck, kneading tension from his muscles. “That is a worry for another day.”
He frowned, attention fixed on the map. “I’ll be in bed shortly.”
With a sigh, I straightened, trailing my touch down his shoulder. Greaves’ eyes opened, his usual glare settling on me, unamused and sharp.
“You’re no help,” I scoffed. The man would stand watch even if Kallias decided to live out his life at a desk, never rising.
I retreated to my rooms across the hall. Part of me still marveled at royal customs: husband and wife, yet sleeping apart. Absurd.
Mother had warned me that most marriages were not for love. The queen served a purpose. Once fulfilled, she was left alone—as if her husband’s attentions might inconvenience her.
My mind drifted instead to Kallias’…attentions. Hardly troublesome, unless I counted the way they sent my imagination spiraling, cheeks heating when decorum demanded composure.
“My queen,” Edith greeted as Claus opened the door.
“I’m ready to retire,” I said, still caught in thoughts of Kallias.
To the people of Radaan, I had one purpose: to produce an heir. To him, I was far more. Our dragons were a boon none else could claim—but would our lack of a child cast a shadow? Would they see it as a curse?
“Will you be sleeping here?” Feyre asked, working the laces on the back of my dress.
The space was modest—just a bed chamber and a washroom that doubled as a dressing area.
“I sleep with Kallias.”
“Then should we ready you in his rooms?” Feyre peered over my shoulder into the mirror. “Walking across the hall in naught but your nightdress? Scandalous!”
“She has a point,Your Majesty.” Edith’s reminder of my title reinforced proper etiquette. “It would be wise to dress in his chambers. Guards and noblemen do not need to see their queen in such a state of undress.”
I shook my head. Kallias needed quiet. I didn’t want my chatty handmaids intruding in his rooms.
“Warn Claus. I’m sure he can close his eyes for a breath while I slip away if it’s too great a scandal.”
Freya snorted, and Edith cleared her throat, patting a stray hair back into place.
I dressed in a silken nightdress, and Edith wrapped me in a thick fur robe. Golden waves fell over my shoulders, the braided crown released. In the mirror, I looked less like a queen and more like any noblewoman. It broke the pretense that I was better than the common folk—but I wouldn’t be kept from Kallias.
Freya nudged the door open, whispering to Claus, “Your queen is about to traverse the halls in a state of undress. Shield your eyes, good sir!”
I stifled a laugh, hugging the furs close.
Bare feet on the cool wooden planks, I followed Freya and, without thinking, nudged Kallias’ door open.
Greaves blocked my view instantly, tall and black as shadow. I blinked up at him. He let out a soft huff, glaring down.
“Greaves,” I mock-whispered. “I am not dressed.”
His irritation flickered into panic as his eyes dropped to the fur cloak. With an uncharacteristic wince, he jerked aside, closing the door behind me.
