“And you left to worship without me.” Her gaze traced my face, deep-sea irises lingering over cheek and mouth, a faint crease forming between her brows. “I would have gone with you to pray to Veridis.”
Behind me, the temples lay in ruin. Veridis’ among them. “There’s no temple left.”
She took in the destruction, eyes glassing with tears. “Ronan wouldn’t have known.”
That truth offered no comfort. My chest hollowed, heart battered beyond response. It had been an accident. War bred mistakes.
“I’m sorry.” A tear slipped free as her chin tipped upward. “Kallias, I am so sorry.” The words fell soft, as though I might miss them.
I gathered her into my arms, pressing her face against the chains of my mantle while her body trembled. “I am too.”
Guilt surged through me. I carried blame like armor, forgetting she would bleed from this as well. I knew her heart. She would shoulder fault that was never hers.
Yet she hadn’t spilled the blood staining her gown.
“How is Mai?” The question escaped even as my thrumming pulse battered my ribs, dreading the answer.
Nienna stiffened, then sagged against me once more when I refused to release her. “As well as can be expected.”
“I didn’t–”Mean to.But I had. War demanded survival. He moved against me, and I defended myself. More than that, I erased a traitorous noble. Forever.
“War isn’t fair.” Her body shook with a strangled sound, fingers clutching my coat the way Mai had clung to her father.
“It never is.”
What kind of monster slaughtered a man in front of his child? War was no excuse. I could’ve deflected the blow, pinned him, kept distance. Anything but beheading.
Now his heir would grow in hatred, enduring a lifetime of pain and grief carved by my impulsive hand.
“Perhaps it is best that I cannot sire any children.”
She drew back, confusion widening her eyes, lips parted as though words waited there.
“I would only bring them suffering.” My hands framed her face, forehead pressed to hers. “Death follows me, loyal as a dog that knows it will be fed. Veridis sees it. It may be a blessing, yet it feels like punishment—one I must bear.”
“You are not cursed, Kallias Sunspear.” Her voice held firm softness. “You are the shining light of Radaan. Mai will understand in time. Kai’s demise was his own doing. You are cleansing Radaan, as you were cleansed in dragonfire. Darkness burns away. Your faith remains.”
Emotions surged, gratitude and helpless love choking tight. I forced it down. She needed strength, not to see her husband buckle under pressure.
“Don’t.” Her hand caught my mantle’s chains before I could pull free. “Don’t shut me out.”
My forehead rested against hers once more. Those forgiving eyes held me steady. “I am unworthy.”
Sorrow flooded into my soul. My lids fell to hide the burn gathering behind them. When the world threatened to cave beneath my feet, I no longer stood alone. She remained. She bore the weight beside me, like oxen yoked to the same burden.
The sky broke open, and rain struck hard, as though Elohios himself mourned with me.
“None of us are worthy.” Her voice brushed gentle warmth through the cold.
I tipped my face to the downpour, letting the torrent wash the heat of battle from my skin. She was right. I might be unfit to lead, but if I stepped aside, Tallon would rise. To abandon Radaan for a sliver of personal happiness would stain me far worse.
I didn’t want more blood, nor did I have any desire to carve fresh grief into my people.
But it was my duty.
I smiled at the sky. Elohios knew me well, working through Nienna to remind me who I was. Radaan wore no crown. We bore the mantle to serve. No matter the suffering, I would serve my kingdom.
Rain fell in sheets, a deluge that attempted to drown the lingering dragonfire around Lon—a grieving god’s benediction. One great enough to hide the tears tracing a king’s face.
