Kallias
The white flag cracked above my head in a gust of wind. A fresh wave of rage slammed into me, and I shoved it down. This was no time or place for rash actions. Tallon was too deceptive. Once, I would have taken pride that my reasoning and calculating discipline had passed to my heir—now I felt disgusted, knowing it came from his mother, and possibly his Velli father.
Part of me still wondered, an inkling of doubt clutching at my mind, if he was truly mine. Half of me wanted to have sired him—though I would never let him rule—just to reassure myself I could give Nienna what she deserved. I recoiled at the thought. Beyond the question of lineage, Nienna’s claim lingered: she had felt itching in her veins when he was near—that condemned him.
The forces at my back were quiet, tense, waiting. Dragons circled high above as Nienna rode up beside me. Erwin, the middle-aged Dragon Rider, flinched, uncomfortable on his mount, and his horse snorted, sensing his nerves.
Fallione wouldn’t attend. This meeting was for me, Nienna, the bastard prince, and whoever he brought. Erwin and Greaves weren’t welcome, but I didn’t care. My guard went where I did, and we needed the rider. Tallon could take his requests and toss them to the four winds.
I swallowed my pride, bottling my frustration, and turned to Nienna. She offered a tight-lipped smile before I could form my question, then nodded.
She was ready.
I drew a steadying breath, settled into the saddle, and squeezed my calves around the horse.
A tent rose from the plains in the distance, planted squarely in the middle of our camps. Scouts had watched the setup, tracking every item and man that entered.
I glanced over my shoulder, searching for Fallione’s signal. Sure enough, he wheeled a bright chestnut mare south and rode away. Tallon was moving toward the tent. Everything was unfolding as planned.
My sword was missing at my side, my spear left behind at camp, but a dagger hid nestled in my boot. No weapons were allowed, but who would check me? Tallon? If he came close, I’d be tempted to stab him. And Egath? He would be dead before he could blink.
It was too coincidental that Tallon started his tricks when that Velli arrived. No doubt he had a hand in bringing his people over the Craggs—a breach of the treaty.
Another battle for another day.
Elohios, guide me,I prayed, letting all other whispers fade. I had only one task: take Tallon captive.
We dismounted at the tent, and Nienna hooked her arm in mine. Then we waited.
Inside, a fine rug covered the ground, with four chairs at its corners. A small bar stood at one side, stocked with wine andliquor. The scene whispered of leisure, not a peace meeting to avoid civil war.
Then the canvas pulled aside, and I saw Tallon.
My heart slammed against my ribs, adrenaline boiling through me. I shifted, pressing the steel blade in my boot against my calf.
He donned an overcoat of black velvet trimmed in silver, and wore his hair long. It fell into his face, unkempt. His mantle mocked authority—silver webbed across his chest as if molten metal had dripped over his shoulders, pooling toward the thin, brittle pauldrons.
As he stepped into the tent’s shade, a ruby caught the light—a spider fashioned over his heart.
Nienna’s hand clenched my forearm, claws digging into my coat.
Egath loomed beside Tallon, his mature frame making the prince resemble a spoiled heir rather than a king. The Velli’s brilliant green eyes flicked between Nienna and me, and he grinned, showing rows of filed teeth.
“Father, I see you received my message.” Tallon’s grin faltered at the sight of Greaves and Erwin. “Though it seems you cannot follow instructions.”
“Tie the canvas back,” I snapped, stiffening. “I will not speak unless we are visible.”
“Some things are better kept private.” His voice was smooth, but his eyes lingered on Nienna’s mantle. “But we all know how you like to flaunt power.”
Egath moved, securing the ties at the entrance. I remained silent, mouth tight.
Elohios, give me wisdom. I wanted revenge, but I did not serve his brother, Nyryn.
“I see you’ve saddled her with a mantle,” Tallon mused, waving to the chairs. “Please—sit.”
Nienna’s hand trembled against mine. Rage or fear? I guessed fury.
“After you.” I kept my voice even, and he leered, as if entertaining a child.
