His eyes lifted to mine. “Have your dragons ever faced weapons?”
I chose each word carefully, watching his reaction. “They’ve never needed to.”
Ronan scoffed. “Nothing withstands dragonfire.”
Kallias ignored him, letting the paper fall. “Tallon intends to keep them at a distance. He’s built ballistas.”
I knew little of such machines. The confusion must have shown because he continued.
“Barbed bolts.” He leaned forward, knuckle tapping his chin before his gaze settled on Fallione. “Light enough to fire skyward. There are two—positioned near the center. Any dragon making a pass would be within range.”
“He means to strip us of our advantage.”
“He knows as little of dragonkind as the Innaki.” I shook my head. “Ronan, an arrow would be no harder to shield than a lightning bolt, would it?”
“Sure—if we see it coming.” He grinned. “If a rider spots the machine, we can jam it long enough for a dragon to destroy it.”
Tallon thought he knew everything. When it came to me and the dragons, he knew nothing at all.
Kallias finally turned to my brother. “And the riders can communicate as you did?”
“Exactly the same.” Ronan nodded. “If you want a man on the ground, have Erwin ride with Nienna. Get him close enough and—storms—he could probably tear the earth open and swallow them whole.”
The tent fell silent. Every gaze fixed on us, expressions varying between surprise and disbelief. Pride stirred in my chest. I might not wield such power, but I ruled the men who did.
“Erwin rides with me,” I said. He respected me—always had. If I could remove the danger from my fleet, I would.
“Then it’s settled.” Kallias pushed the message aside and returned to the map. “Seven dragons draw their attention whilethe Threshers infiltrate the Golden Palace. I want the heirs secured before I arrive. Panic breeds bloodshed.”
“How much time until the meeting?” Claus asked. “If I slip through, I might contact my brothers—get more information.”
“Hopefully not long.” Fallione drummed his fingers on the table, strands of gray hair falling into his face. “If Tallon has any sense, he won’t let this drag on. To make you stand idle at his gate weakens him before the people.”
“Then I’ll remain here,” Claus said, glare fixed on the map.
“Your task is clear.” Kallias met his gaze. “Find them. Take them to the siege rooms and wait for me there.”
It wasn’t a request. He trusted the Thresher to succeed.
That was the faith of a true king.
The night wore on. Scouts came and went with reports from Tallon’s camp. Gyrak and Tsunami remained grounded, the latter chafing under his restraint.
Maps and lists blurred together, and I fought to stay alert. A queen did not leave the burden of war to her husband alone. Mother would’ve been ashamed. She always matched my father in negotiations, often outstripping him.
Kallias was like her in that way. I took after Father.
By the time Fallione departed, temptation gnawed at me to call my dragons and burn the field rather than review infantry numbers one more time.
Greaves lowered the tent flap and tied it, as if canvas could offer privacy.
“Thank you.” Kallias clasped my hand, his skin rough, his mouth tilting. “You endured longer than I expected.”
I stretched, joints protesting. “If you think I’d let you plan Tallon’s death without me, you’re sorely mistaken, husband.”
Every muscle ached, and my head throbbed like distant drums. Kallias bore the strain better, though shadows carved deep trenches beneath his eyes.
“Your input has been invaluable.”
