I knew that pain all too well.
He shifted, searching for comfort, then stilled.
Sleep tugged me under just as his voice chased me into my dreams.
“I’m glad you’re finally happy.”
Chapter Twenty
Kallias
There were no windows in my bedchamber, a tactical choice for me and Greaves to sleep undisturbed—but a travesty for Nienna. In Draconia, I had woken to sunlight spilling over her pale skin, setting soft waves ablaze. I craved the way the morning sun pried her from the dark embrace of dreams, dragging her into the waking world.
My own sleep offered nothing—no nightmares to haunt me, no fragile hopes waiting to be crushed at dawn. Just a glorious blank, my body exhausted and recouping from the past few relentless days.
Greaves groaned, flopping an arm over his face. The sound cut off abruptly, and I smiled. He remembered we weren’t alone. It would take time for him to grow comfortable with her, but there would always be a guard between them. He hadn’t spent his life near her as he had with me; that kind of familiarity took patience.
Nienna’s breath caught, fingers twitching. She was awake.
The sun had likely just risen. Whispers and soft footfalls drifted from the receiving room, the servants signaling their presence—and the need for me to rise.
“It’s time to wake.” I brushed hair from her face.
She frowned, then a sly curve twisted her lips into a wicked smile. Her hand slid down my chest, and she arched against me, pressing her warmth into mine.
I caught her before her touch could wander too far. “No time for that this morning.”
Her eyes snapped open, sleep lingering at the corners. She grabbed the sheet and twisted to face Greaves’ bed.
The man was already rising, a light tunic thrown over his chest. With his habitual movements, features slack with rest, he gathered clothes and armor, scratching at mussed hair before stepping out—to check the staff, no doubt.
“What’s your first task?” she asked, flopping back to curl against me.
I sighed, dreading the meetings and paperwork. “I’m to meet with all the noblemen—verify their loyalty.”
“The mayors and merchants?”
“Anyone overseeing a province or staff,” I clarified. “They’ll swear fealty to me—and to you.”
“Ah. So I shall be attending?”
“The choice is yours. It would be proper for you to be there. Perhaps you could drag them into the courtyard, threaten them with your brother’s beast.”
“Dragons don’t actually enjoy human flesh.”
“I’m fairly certain I saw one eat a man while we fought for Reem.”
“That’s bound to happen in the heat of battle,” she huffed. “You can’t blame them for that.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Radaanians are unaware of their acquired tastes. By right, you should assert yourself over them.”
“And the other task?”
I pursed my lips, thumb brushing along her waist. “You did well with the heirs yesterday.”
She shifted, hair sliding across my chest as she peered up at me.
“Their parents and guardians have been summoned, an opportunity to pledge allegiance and reclaim their children. In the meantime, it would do them good to be assured that they are safe once again. And you have a vested interest in securing the trust of the next generation.”
