“I like him,” she murmured into Alea’s neck.
A smile tugged at my cheeks; she liked a dragon! They were on their best behavior here. There was plenty of space that allowed them to escape each other when they grew territorial, and their riders tempered that instinct even more.
We were well on our way to having Radaan accept the dragons—if the children accepted them first.
A brisk wind caught my dress, sending a shiver up my spine. Breon pivoted with me, both of us scanning the busy outlying village beyond the city walls. He drew in a breath, testing the air, and Nakos appeared at my side. In the shadow of the massive wall, shops and houses pressed together. Further out, gardens and pastures stretched, growing into giant fields scattered like a patchwork quilt.
No one lurked with a crossbow, nor did anyone glare from the shadows with malicious intent. Only commoners going about their day, with the occasional curious glance in our direction.
“Breon says he can’t place it,” Nakos murmured, adjusting his flight goggles.
“It’s just the autumn air.” I smiled, brushing away the chill. “Radaan gets much colder than Draconia. Perhaps we’ll see snow.”
“It’s rare in these parts, my queen,” Alea said, eyes on the dragon and horses. “Though Tal gets a decent snowpack every winter.”
I shook off the disquiet. It was nothing. “I plan to travel to all the districts.” I had to see Radaan in its entirety—even the palm-sized bog bugs Kallias’ mother had immortalized in the palace stairwell.
“They’d be honored to have you. Isn’t that right, Seraph’tal?” Alea leaned back, meeting the gaze of the girl she held. Seraph clung to her, hiding over her shoulder. Alea’s smile was apologetic. “Her mother will be happy to talk to you about snow when she arrives.”
“When’s Mama coming?” Seraph’s muffled voice barely rose above a whisper.
“We’ve sent for her,” I said, keeping my distance but tilting my head with a grin. “She’ll be here before you know it.”
“And the nobles who are here now?” an older girl asked, braiding her hair. “I heard the king is meeting with them today.”
I turned a worried smile toward the palace. How could I explain to them that he was testing their loyalty, demanding allegiance—all for the heirs’ sake and their suffering?
“Will they return to their districts?” another asked, fear threading her tone—more than mere caution, a shadow of past atrocities.
Alea pressed her lips together, masking quiet rage as her attention returned to the boys running under Breon. The urge to demand what happened—whohappened to her—strangled me.
“Yes, when we’re finished with them,” I replied. The state they’d be in afterward depended on their crimes.
Tsunami roared, drawing my gaze skyward. She passed overhead, slitted pupils scanning our group before pulling up. Breon snarled his irritation.
I frowned, hand pressed to the center of my chest as Gyrak chased her, herding her toward the clouds. Shrill horse cries chased her below. There was something whispering between us unseen—a connection. I was the Dragon’s Heart, nothing more than a hatchmate born in the same nest. She mirrored my emotions, much as any dragon could sense another.
There was no bond—with me or Kallias. She really was just an overgrown cat enamored with the man who smelled of cinnamon and sunshine.
We let the heirs bask in the presence of the dragons, the older children brave enough to reach out and touch Breon. Two boys gravitated toward Nakos, and Mikal even took time to wrestle with them, giving them an outlet for the pent-up frustration of confinement.
Eventually, I sent them inside, walking them to their rooms. After Alea settled Seraph down for a nap, I drew her aside.
“Tell me what happened.” Steel edged my voice.
She knew exactly what I wanted. “With Ish’neer?”
“Yes. I want the details.”
She glanced at the Threshers trailing us through the corridor.
“Their loyalty lies with me,” I said.
“They’re not who I’m worried about.” A brief laugh escaped her, and she dipped her chin toward the armored guards. “No offense.”
They gave no reaction—as expected.
“Then to my rooms.” I set off, navigating the halls from memory. Kallias’ chambers lay ahead, mine across from his. Privacy waited there, free from prying ears.
