Chapter Six
Nienna
Kallias burst through the door, and Greaves lurched to his feet so fast his chair flew across the small hut.
Ronan and another man followed my husband in, but those glacier-blue eyes claimed my attention.
In two strides, he stood in front of me, his hand sliding under my chin.
I said nothing, letting his frantic rage cool into the chill calculation I knew well.
His jaw flexed beneath silver stubble, concern draining from his face. “Are you alright?”
“Raul and Cain have treated me like a queen.” My voice stayed soft, meant only for him, but the hut was too cramped, too quiet.
His nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath, finally satisfied enough to take in the one-room house.
The two stood near the small mud hearth, their gazes fixed somewhere over our heads.
Dark, stringy hair fell into Cain’s eyes, lending him a careless, disrespectful air, though he had been kind.
His caretaker, Raul, had shown the same courtesy, bringing us here even after Greaves knocked them both to the ground and let them feel the bite of his steel.
“Welcome, my king.” Fallione’s voice rose from the corner.
With a startled exclamation, Raul dropped into a low bow. His hand flailed for Cain’s arm, yanking him down beside him.
“Rise.” Kallias turned toward them, shifting just enough to place himself between us. “You have my thanks for offering my queen shelter.”
“It was the honorable thing to do, King Sunspear.” Raul’s voice sounded dry and brittle, like sun-bleached rope. “Our humble home is hardly luxurious, but we offer what comforts we have.”
The mud-and-straw hut felt tighter with everyone inside. Greaves and Fallione pressed close at my back, Kallias stood between me and the men, and my brother lingered at the door with the newcomer.
“Perhaps we should sit,” I said.
Fallione came to my rescue. “Raul, Cain. Ronan would love to help the both of you gather firewood, wouldn’t you, Prince?”
He scrunched his face, staring at the advisor as though he’d grown a third eye. “I would much rather–”
“Unless you have secured sleeping quarters elsewhere, we will not use our hosts’ wood without replenishing it.” The older man’s tone left no room for argument, not even from a prince.
“Of course!” Raul called, snatching up his stick and testing the ground before him, dragging Cain along in his wake.
They shuffled out, crowding Kallias back into me and forcing Greaves to step around us.
He jerked his chin toward the stranger. “Greetings, Thresher.”
“Kingsguard,” the hooded figure replied.
“We’ll watch outside,” Greaves said, slipping out and latching the door behind him.
The speed of his recovery still surprised me. Once on land, he had no trouble returning to his usual self. He needed more rest and food, but he was mending, already easing back into his role.
Kallias took in the hut, then pulled the cloak from his shoulders, revealing his gleaming mantle.
“They’re blind,” he said.
“But kind. And loyal.”
I retook my seat, knowing he would not sit until I did. We were still far beyond the city bounds, distant enough that it was safe to bring out Gyrak after nightfall.
“You’ve news?” Fallione asked, remaining upright in the corner, the only free space beyond the bed behind him.
“We have a long road ahead of us.” Kallias ran a hand through his hair, breath escaping him before he continued. “Tallon holds the heirs to the districts in thrall at Reem. There will be no sneaking in.”
My back stiffened. The thought of that monster holding innocents hostage cut too close to what the Innaki king had tried with my people. The urge to insist Tallon burn clawed up my throat, but I forced it down, sealing it away for later.
It took only moments for him to update us on the state of the kingdom. When he spoke of Darius’ fate, his voice dropped into something darker. Death clung to him, a shadow I doubted would lift before the end.
“Then a show of force,” Fallione said, settling onto the bed, his brow creased. “Rally the people. Let them turn on him.”
The threadbare blanket beneath him sagged, riddled with holes.
This small hut relied on charity, borrowed warmth, and the quiet generosity of others.
And yet, these were Radaanians. Citizens who cared for their own.
They did not turn inward, not after all they had endured.
They were nothing like the Innaki or the shark-blooded Kulletti.
“We must make them choose a side,” Kallias muttered, studying the knots in the wooden table as though answers hid in the grain.
“It could spark a civil war,” Fallione whispered. His gaze flicked to his sovereign. “Split the nation.”
That roused something in my husband. His eyes found me first, then snapped back to his advisor. “They will follow their king. I have not fought for them my entire life for them to bend to Tallon. They obey him out of fear, not loyalty. I must be larger than their terror.”
I reached out, resting my hand over his calloused one. He met my gaze and dipped his head a fraction.
Yes. Dragons were fiercer than the Velli. They would give our enemy something to flee from.
His thumb pinned my pinkie against his palm, rubbing once. Silent approval.
“If that is His Majesty’s choice, then we must move quickly,” Fallione said, exhaustion weighing his voice. “Each day gives Tallon more to wield against us. We cannot hide the dragon for long, and unless Queen Nienna has further insight, we have no way to know when Draconia’s riders will arrive.”
I pursed my lips and shook my head. “The storm may have sent them wide. If so, they could arrive tomorrow. But it’s possible they chose to wait it out. Having a dragon fly through a tempest and then continue across the sea is too much to ask of the beasts.”
“We plan tomorrow,” Kallias said, leaning forward. “Claus could help rally the city. At first light the following morn, I shall greet Mon with the sun warming my back. Ronan will fly above on Gyrak, discouraging any who attempt to slip east with word. There is only one road, and he can hold it.”
“It buys us time to test Mon,” the advisor muttered his agreement. “Gather men. March to Lon.”
Kallias’ brow tightened. “That will be our first true test.”
“The dragons will have arrived by then,” I said. “I’m certain of it.”
“They make us the greater threat.” Fallione nodded. “I will speak with this Claus, and we will shape a plan.” He rose with a tired breath, smoothing his gray hair. After a low bow, he left the hut, closing the door behind him, leaving me alone with Kallias.
His shoulders eased, only slightly. The smallest sign of peace. His gaze roamed the room, unguarded, before settling on the single, rickety bed.
“I wish there was time to take you to the ship,” he said, weariness lining his eyes as they met mine.
“I tire of the sea’s rocking,” I offered, smiling.
“Better a swaying bed than one that welcomes visitors,” he replied, a faint scoff in his voice.
“My dear king,” I tilted my head, lashes lowered, “are you frightened of a few bugs?”
“I have faced greater foes. Still, I wish I had more to offer my wife.”
The familiar lines at the corners of his eyes deepened, clashing with the smile meant to disguise them.
“I would suffer far more for you,” I whispered, teasing gone, promise bare.
He risked everything for me. His life, narrowly spared. His kingdom, now bleeding for it. And I—with pride intact and integrity unbroken—carried the kind of love poets carved into history. And suffered nothing for it.
“The men treated you well?” he asked, leaning back, withdrawing his hand.
“After your guard stole ten years from their lives,” I said, laughing. “Greaves, even in his state, had them flat on the ground before they knew who we were. Fallione smoothed things quickly. They swore loyalty on the spot.”
“I’ll remember them when I return to Reem. Loyalty offered in times like this is worth more than any oath sworn in peace.”
“I believe your people will prove themselves,” I said, leaning closer.
The look he gave me carried such longing, such conflict; it ached straight through my chest.
“We shall know soon enough.”
The night passed in restless turns on a stranger’s bed. Sleep came thin and fractured; my thoughts too loud, the mattress unkind.
Kallias’ breathing stayed even, yet his body never truly softened. Neither of us surrendered to rest. Silence stretched into the darkness, a shared decision not to disturb one another, each pretending sleep had found us.
I suspected the only ones who were blessed with real respite were Cain and Raul. Their snoring filled the hut, a rough, steady chorus. Greaves sat against the bed, head tipped to the side in a shallow doze. Fallione lay near the fire, knees drawn in to leave room for our hosts on the cramped floor.
Claus and Ronan spent the night beneath the stars. Ronan’s choice surprised no one, though Claus’ did, especially once the patter of rain began pattering against the thatched roof.
Our quiet pretense ended when a leak found Kallias’ shoulder, cold drops seeping through from above. We spoke in hushed tones before dawn, preparing for the day.
Outside, I stepped away to relieve myself, blinking against the dim gray light pressing down from the clouded sky.
“Miserable weather,” Ronan muttered, falling into step beside me.
I gathered my skirts, lifting them clear of the long, wet grass. “Better for hiding Gyrak.”
He twisted, scowling at Claus trailing behind us. “I’ve got her.”
I dipped my chin, smiling at the ground. Ronan might’ve been an overgrown crab, but he was my little brother. Loyal to the bone. Protective to a fault.
The small structure ahead came into view, and disgust curled in my gut.
I was a queen. Without a throne and palace. This was my reality now, the same one our gracious hosts lived with each day. Necessity stripped pride bare, and I crushed what remained beneath my heel.
The mantle did not change the fact that I was still a woman.