“No.” My hands hung useless at my sides, afraid that reaching out would frighten them. They didn’t know me like they knew Kallias. “He won’t be back.”
A little boy burst into a fit of sobs. “I want to see my mama!”
A noble girl wrapped him in her arms, holding him close, her wary eyes rimmed red with streaks of dust-lined tears.
“We will get you to them as soon as we can,” I assured.
“Shall we call you ‘Your Majesty’?” the older brunette asked, voice tight.
Tentatively, I extended my hand to one of the smallest girls. “Yes. I’ve joined King Sunspear. I’m your queen now, and I brought my dragons with me.”
A tiny hand grasped two of my fingers, a silent plea for security.
“Would you like to see them?” I whispered, rubbing my thumb over the soft, dimpled skin. “They’re here to protect you. Keep you safe. They won’t harm you.”
“Oh! I do! I want to!” A small boy blurted, wiping his nose with a torn sleeve.
A breathless laugh escaped me, relief surging through my chest. They weren’t scared of me.
Kallias dropped to a crouch beside me, thigh pressing against mine. “There will be conditions.” His brows lifted, head tilting in a playful manner. “Before you see the beasts, you must bathe and eat. They’re sensitive to smells, and I’ll not have your stinky feet chasing them skyward.”
The youngest ones giggled, and even the older girls cracked reluctant smiles. His presence brought the comfort and security they craved. And I was thankful for his orders. Some of them wore bloodstained clothes—not something I wanted near dragons, bonded or not.
“Now, my queen. Will you keep watch over the future of Radaan while I attend to other matters?” Kallias’ mouth teased a smile, but his eyes held a dark, barely contained rage. A whirlstorm churned behind that friendly mask, and something—or someone—would suffer its wrath.
“Gladly.” I nodded. “I will see to their cleanliness and full bellies before I show them the dragons. Once they’re settled, I’ll find you.”
“Take care of them,” he said, turning to meet each set of glittering eyes. “There’s nothing more precious in all of Reem.”
He rose, leaving with Greaves. Fallione informed me he would have the eastern halls cleared within the hour, and to wait until then.
I filled the silence with questions—asking the heirs about their families, their districts. I answered theirs in turn, telling them of Draconia and the Spire.
Before long, another Thresher arrived to announce that the halls were clear.
I roused the children, and two pressed their small hands into each of mine, despite the rebuke of an older peer.
“It’s alright,” I assured with a bright grin. “A queen should always stay close to those she protects.”
We followed the Thresher, the other trailing behind. As we ascended, the children’s playfulness and familiarity faded into anxious quiet. I could feel fear pressing in on them, the burden of memories they could barely voice.
I needed to know what they endured, the atrocities Tallon inflicted.
Then I’d make him suffer tenfold.
The east wing was clean. Vivid new rugs stretched across the floors, bright and cheerful, hiding the death beneath. I kept my smile, guiding them along.
We turned a corner; a servant knelt there, scrubbing crimson from the wall.
I spun, gasping at a painting to draw the children’s attention. They froze, eyes wide, as if the garden scene were a snake coiled to strike.
“Have any of you been to the Manor in the Mountains?” I asked, voice raised so the servant could hear, and hopefully, speed up her task.
A chorus of hesitant murmurs met me. I pointed to a small rabbit nestled among wildflowers at the painting’s border. “If you ever go, they hide goats in the paintings. The tapestries and carvings, too. I made it a game when I visited. I didn’t find them all, but I assure you: one hides in every piece of art.”
“The Sols are known for their goat herds.” Jax’mon—Jackie—snickered.
“Oh yes. They have breeds for everything. Hair and wool, milk—and when I last spoke with Claydon’sol, he was working on breeding goats large enough to ride.”
