This would test me. One wrong word, a single misplaced reaction, and I would shame Kallias before the eyes of his kingdom. He’d given everything for me. And today, the character of his queen would be measured. Would his sacrifice prove worthy, or would I reveal myself as a hot-headed girl playing at sovereignty?
“Keep them in the skies, as planned,” he said, dropping the letter onto the table. Weariness edged his voice. “Visible, but beyond ballista range unless they’re needed. You’ll have time to brief Erwin before we leave?”
Cold water bit my skin as I scrubbed my face, leaving me shivering. “I’ll be ready.”
He crossed the tent and met my gaze in the mirror. His eye twitched. And this time, he didn’t bother hiding it. Fingers brushed my hair aside, and he kissed my neck without breaking eye contact.
“You’ll do beautifully.” His breath warmed my soul as his arms closed around me.
“This is important,” I whispered, catching my lip between my teeth. “I was raised for court intrigue, not armies. And Tallon—that storming eel gets under my skin. He expects you tosurrender? Is he truly that foolish?”
His mouth curved as he spoke into my hair. “You command dragons. You sank an entire fleet. My only concern is that we capture him alive before one of your beasts decides to eat him to impress you.”
A laugh slipped free as I leaned into his chest. “I wouldn’t object.”
“Neither would I,” he said. “But there’s order for a reason. He must stand trial. If he hangs afterward—or burns—that’s justice.”
“Oh, to be a simple commoner.” I forced a dreamy sigh. “No reputations to uphold. No crowds to appease.”
He kissed the back of my head. “It’s not our lot.”
Once he finished washing, Freya entered to dress me. She laid out two gowns. One draped low across my shoulders. The other followed the Draconis cut, high-collared and severe. I lifted the Radaanian green, collarbone bare, partly to spite Tallon—and remind him of what he discarded.
“The other,” Kallias said, shrugging into his overcoat. His gaze lingered on my throat before darkening. “Cover your neck. Egath may be present.”
He left me room to refuse. A flicker of doubt crossed his face, as if he feared overstepping by choosing for me.
But he understood the Velli.
“This one,” I said, selecting the white and gold gown. It echoed his armor, though not the green of his coat. “Why the neck?”
Lines deepened beside his eyes. “The Velli hear blood. Their attention lingers at the throat and wrists. Cloth dulls the call. As if it muffles the sound.”
I hummed, fingers stroking the soft fabric. Freya took it from me and began dressing me. Kallias’ words lingered. If Tallon truly carried Velli blood, he might share that hunger. Memoriesfollowed. Egath’s voice in my veins. The itching beneath my skin. The same unease the bastard prince always stirred.
When my handmaid finished, I settled the Mantle of Radaan over Kallias’ shoulders. Gold plates overlapped and gleamed, newly polished. Leaves and living patterns etched into the yoke caught the light. I fastened each chain, feeling his defenses rise with every clasp. With the final link, I drew his mouth down to mine.
He stilled, lips barely responding.
“I’ll meet you at the front,” I whispered.
Silver threaded his hair. Severe brows framed storm-dark eyes. His jaw set, ready to face an army. The mantle sealed him away. Duty eclipsed all else.
He nodded once and strode from the tent, Greaves at his side.
“Quickly now,” I urged Freya.
Her fingers moved with swift precision, plaiting a crown of delicate braids while leaving the rest loose to fall down my back. Once finished, she helped me into my mantle. My chest tightened beneath its weight, the absence of Kallias sharp and immediate.
Readying a queen took longer than readying a king. He had Fallione to see to, and troops to command.
When I was prepared, I dismissed Freya to the rear of the camp. Four guards in heavy plate fell in behind me as I threaded through the tents toward the field where Tsunami and Gyrak had slept. The soldiers kept their distance.
Seeing all seven beasts glimmering beneath the rising sun stirred a fierce pride I barely restrained. The riders crouched nearby, idly scoring the dirt with sticks while their dragons huffed and clicked above them in their own rough cadence.
Gyrak swung his black head toward me and released an excited trill. Tsunami snapped upright beside him. She rose onto her hind legs, wings flaring wide. Gyrak hissed and cracked histeeth at her. She snarled back, then folded her wings with visible reluctance and dropped to all fours.
“Nienna,” Ronan called, pushing to stand. Goggles perched in his unruly hair, his grin bright and unguarded.
