“Will you kill him?”
Blunt. Fearless. Honest. She asked if I would slay the boy I once called my son, knowing I would not retaliate or punish her for the question. That was what bound us. No pretense. No evasion. A brutal clarity between lovers. A partnership.
“He’s a traitor.” My gaze locked on hers, blue as the open sea, sharp with thought. “He will hang for his crimes.”
“Not burn.” She tested the boundary, a twitch betraying her urge to argue.
“Fire is a dangerous thing.” I reached for her cheek. Her skin felt cold against my palm as my thumb traced the shadows under her eye. “One moment, you think you have it under control. And then next—it’s feasting on everything you love.”
“And those who rose with him?” Her fingers shifted beneath mine, restless. “Are they not traitors too?”
“There must be trials.” I blinked, attempting to cover the twitch in my eye. How many remained loyal to me? How much ruin bore my name? “We have to consider those who bent to him because he threatened their children, their livelihoods. I’m sure there are those who are true to his cause, but Radaan honored me. I fought beside their fathers. Bled with their sons. Loyalty like that does not vanish overnight.”
Her mouth pressed thin, lips pursed in thought. “We won’t know the depth of his treachery until we arrive.”
Now would be the time I’d tell lesser men not to worry over tomorrow. But I was a king. The worries of yesterday, today, and tomorrow all belonged to me. Those in power did not get the privilege of tossing their cares aside. Leadership offered no refuge from consequences.
“If Darius is dead, Tallon rules by force,” I said. “Fear cannot sustain loyalty.”
“And we will retake Reem.” Her words came soft. Hesitant and seeking. Unsure.
Because there would be bloodshed.
It was simply a question of how much.
Chapter Two
Nienna
He returned to the makeshift shrine after shedding the yoke. Wet fabric clung to his frame. Calm and determined, he still appeared exposed—but the lack of a cloak on a storm-tossed ship was a sharp reminder of the strain on his mind.
I changed into a nightgown, moving slow and quiet, careful not to disturb his prayer.
His gods were beyond that silent wall of faith.
Mine were four days behind us.
Our departure from Draconia had been a mad rush. My farewell to my parents was hurried, a flurry of words and embraces. I didn’t allow myself tears until late that night, when the truth landed with a painful weight: I would never see them again.
Repairs to the Dragon Ship were delayed until another landing, patched only enough for an emergency voyage. The Radaanian men we left on the Wild Shores would return once we secured Radaan.
Familiar anger swelled, tight and restless. Helpless, choking rage with nowhere to go.
I nestled into our small bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin, and studied the back of Kallias’ bowed head.
He gave so much to his people. His life belonged to the mantle of Radaan, yet this one desire—still benefiting his nation—had brought him punishment.
He was being punished for my sake.
Guilt gnawed at my ribs, feeding the frustration curling in my chest. This was my fault. He came for me, voyaged across the vast sea. He faced the King of Innaku—forme.
I had proven myself nothing more than a cursed princess, a needy queen.
Kallias remained as still as stone, shoulders tight, muscles shifting with the ship’s rocking sway to keep him steady.
If it were within my power, I would lift this burden from him. Instead, I could only bear what he was willing to share.
I woke the next morning with his arms around me, the ship’s jolting roll making him tighten his hold at my waist, drawing me closer until my back fit flush to his chest.
