I’d like to say that we slept that night. We lay tucked in bed, nightclothes donned, Nienna safe in my arms.
But rest never found me.
Smoke clung to the drapes and carpet, coiling around me with a grip that refused release. Through the long hours, the clang of craftsmen rebuilding the city rang out, often shattered by the shriek of a dragon flying low.
When Freya slipped into our rooms, Greaves was already moving—proof he hadn’t slept either. Lon did not welcome us, and I just killed her mayor. Plenty of souls would wish me dead.
Kai’s widow, foremost among them.
Nienna groaned as I eased away, muttering while she dragged the blankets over her back, stealing my warmth. The corner of my mouth lifted despite myself, savoring that small breadcrumb of happiness before the long, draining day ahead.
My legs had barely cleared the bedside when a knock sounded. Greaves went to answer as I crossed the room for a tunic.
“Wait!” he hissed.
I shot him a tired, questioning look.
He shoved the door closed, planting his boot against it.
“Who is it?” My throat burned from the smoke. Each word scraped like grit against raw skin.
“Ronan.”
I frowned at the clean fabric in my hands. Nienna had spoken to him last night, called his beast off, then he vanished into the dark with Tsunami.
“Kallias, they’re here!” Nienna leapt from the bed. She clasped Freya’s hand, beaming at me. “The fleet has arrived!”
The Draconis maid hovered with her head bowed, peeking up at me. She had clearly brought the news to her queen before Ronan could inform me.
I swallowed hard and pulled on my tunic. “Once she is dressed, let him in.”
“They’ll be exhausted,” Nienna said, throwing off the covers and moving to dress. “The flight across the sea and on to Lon will have drained them. They need rest and food, but they can catch up with us.”
Frustration gnawed at me. She spoke truth, yet asking the people of Lon to feed the very beasts that burned their city would curdle every stomach. Necessary, all the same. We needed those dragons before facing Tallon.
I should’ve been grateful.
“A few sheep.” Her voice softened. Her hand closed around my arm, a gentle squeeze that told me she’d read my thoughts. “Then they’ll move on. I won’t let them linger.”
I managed a smile that felt closer to a grimace. “Whatever is necessary.”
Silence followed as we dressed, each lost to private reckoning. The quiet clink of Greaves’ bandolier echoed while Nienna fastened my mantle, metal whispering against metal.
My fingers traced the delicate chains of her mantle, smoothing the dragonscale shoulders. Gold spilled across her chest over lavender fabric embroidered with gilded leaves. The white dress lay ruined, blood-soaked, but Fallione already had seamstresses at work. When we met Tallon, she would stand before him as the spotless queen of Radaan.
Word would have reached Reem by now. We would face him soon enough.
Fresh anger tore at the wounds carved into my heart.
I had words for him.
A roll of my shoulders steadied me as I faced the door Greaves blocked. Fingers closed around my arm. My muscles tightened before I met Nienna’s tender smile with a frown.
“What is it?”
Her palms warmed my cheeks as she drew me down for a chaste kiss. Dark lashes lowered over deep blue eyes, holding me captive. When she pulled away, my own pain stared back at me from her gaze.
“I’m here.”
