“His hold will be weak at first.” Kallias swallowed and returned his focus to the map. “He’ll keep Reem by force. To claim the kingdom, he needs the noble houses. Willingly or otherwise.”
“Blackmail?”
He shook his head. “I fought beside too many men. Saved too many nobles. That loyalty can’t be bound by lies and trickery.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned forward, elbows braced on the table. “No. Tallon is holding them hostage.”
My stomach clenched, fingers tightening against his leg. “How?”
“That, I don’t know.”
His refusal to arrive in a plume of dragonfire made sense now. If innocents were held, Kallias would allow himself to be caged and chained before letting them die in his name.
“We land.” Fallione traced Wellmoor with his finger. “Gauge loyalty. Learn how Tallon stole a nation. Then decide our next move.”
“And if the people are loyal to us?” I asked.
“Then we send the Threshers ahead,” Kallias said. “They’ll save who they can and hide our arrival. Then we come with your dragons and force Tallon out.”
“And if Radaan is divided?”
“That makes the situation far more… delicate.” Fallione tapped the table, lips pursed. “We would have to gamble. Announce ourselves and risk civil war while losing noble support—or strike Tallon directly and hope enough rally to us in time.”
“We wouldn’t need aid with my dragons.”
“Your dragons would cause more harm than help, Nienna.” Kallias corrected.
My gaze slid to Fallione. He avoided it, reaching for the papers stacked beside him.
I kept my voice measured, every word deliberate. “They’ll encourage allegiance.”
Kallias tensed, shifting his leg from my grasp. His attention dropped to my dress, and the smallest grimace touched his mouth as he rolled his shoulders.
“The dragons are our last resort,” he said. “That is final.”
Heat crept up my neck, the tips of my ears burning at the rebuke delivered in front of Fallione. The line was drawn. No room for argument.
But what use was I as queen if I could not wield my dragons?
Kallias closed his eyes and stood. “I’ll be at the prow if needed.”
Then he was gone, leaving me seated beside an advisor who looked just as uneasy as I felt.
Chapter Three
Nienna
“Was it the dress?”
Greaves wiped his mouth, watery eyes tracking me as he grunted. “Eldeiade fancied the colors of blood and death.”
I huffed a sigh, stilted and helpless. I upset Kallias—chose the wrong dress, spoke the wrong words. Confidence as a queen meant nothing if it wounded the man I loved. But if he never spoke of his pain, how was I to avoid hurting him?
I was Draconis. An entire fleet, a generation of warriorsandtheir king, lay at the bottom of the sea because they threatened my people. I would not stand idle while Tallon crippled the Radaan Kallias had given half his life to.
“I shall never wear red again,” I muttered, tugging at the thick velvet. The slit fell open, revealing the dark breeches beneath.
“Talk to him,” Greaves said.
He swayed on the bed, and I pressed my advantage, aware that his openness stemmed only from weakness.
