“After the wedding, I’ll search for Clay and the others. When Reem is restored–”
He hissed, jerking away. “That’s it. Radaan will never see peace until he’s brought down.”
“What would you have me do?” My palms struck the table. “Nienna is wounded. I’m exhausted. A thousand demands claw at me, and for the first time, I have love worth protecting. If I charge after Tallon blind—and die for it—I leave her with ruin.”
He bowed his head, hiding his eyes from me. I hated the distance between us. We disagreed before, but this cut deeper. I wanted to put a spear through Egath’s chest, let Nienna’s dragons roast the bastard for his treachery. But there was too much at stake. Order and sequence mattered.
I had to find a balance between being a man and a king.
“I understand.” The words fell to the table like stones—flat and final.
“There will be blood today.” I shoved my chair back and stood. “We’ve spilled enough for a lifetime, Greaves. But this isn’t finished.”
We deserved rest—earned it.
Still, the world demanded more.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nienna
The shrill cry of terrified horses pierced the morning air outside the palace, but something purer drowned it out.
Pey’son shrieked, chasing his brother under Breon. The smaller dragon lifted a hind leg to let them pass, his fierce golden gaze locked on Nakos.
He chuckled, shrugging at his bonded beast. “It’s your duty to queen and country, Breon.”
A breathless laugh escaped me when he chuffed, craning his head to scan the skies. Gyrak circled Tsunami, keeping her from the training field after she lunged at one of the horses.
The steeds were corralled in a broad pasture, eyes rolling to reveal the whites in sheer terror. It was too foreign—carnivores they were meant to work alongside. Dogs could be kicked or bitten away; a dragon was something else entirely. They knew they were merely prey.
“I appreciate your efforts!” I called to the green, his deep emerald scales shimmering.
“He’s beautiful.” Alea practically fawned over the beast, holding a small girl in her arms, fingers threading through an earth-colored curl.
She’d been assigned to the heirs not just for her kind demeanor, but because she was the daughter of a swordsmith. Muscles lined her limbs, yet enough feminine curves remained to undermine her strength.
Her hazel eyes met mine, and she adjusted the little one on her hip. “I’m sure you hear that all the time, Your Majesty.”
“It’s good for their ego,” I whispered behind my hand.
The tiny girl let a curl slip free, giggling as it bounced.
“Will all seven stay in Radaan?” Alea shaded her eyes, scanning the skies.
“Only five are meant to stay. Gyrak shall return to Draconia once I am settled here.” I chose my words carefully—the teens perched on old tree stumps pretended not to listen, but they hung on every word.
“And the riderless one?”
“Hopefully she’ll go back with him.” I gestured toward Nakos, and his blond brows rose as he rubbed the nape of his neck.
“She seems rather attached,” he said, almost apologetically.
I shrugged. “Regardless, there’s nothing to fear from her. Elmo could keep her in line if she ignores Gyrak.”
The little girl straightened, still hiding behind Alea’s curls. “The red one?”
“His true name is Guglielmo, but his rider, Mikal, calls him Elmo. It stuck.”
