Chapter Thirteen
Nienna
The dragons were grounded; the fleet lined up in a neat row. They held their heads high, brilliant eyes ablaze with defiance despite wings hanging low and heavy. Tsunami chirped overhead, circling them, taunting the weary beasts from above.
Gyrak faced them, smaller than Artorious. The massive bull’s scales shimmered black, catching the morning sun in deep gray flashes. His long ivory horns speared the sky. A gentle giant. Though his coloring was a dominant gene, he bore none of Argos’ temperament. He was careful. Almost delicate.
“They’re striking,” Kallias commented as we dismounted and approached Ronan, who stood in conversation with five other men.
They were beautiful. “The black is Artorious. Erwin rides him. You remember him from our meeting with Galdoni? He’s one of our strongest riders.”
“I remember him.” Kallias’ gaze moved over the beast, measured and intent.
“The red is Guglielmo, though we call him Elmo. Mikal rides him. He’s a personal friend. The emerald is Breon, bonded to Nakos.” My words came faster as we drew closer. “The dark blue is Dyre, with Sean. And the gold is Matalino, ridden by Orren.”
Kallias nodded, absorbing every detail. It would not have surprised me if he could recite it all back perfectly, word for word.
“Nienna,” Ronan called, a broad grin cutting across his face. He stood among friends here—his equals.
“Your Majesties.” The riders saluted me, then bowed in respectful shallow dips to Kallias.
“Welcome to Radaan.” I inclined my head. “Thank you for coming.” The words carried to the dragons as well.
“’Tis our duty,” Erwin said. Tall and lean, with dark curls and green eyes, he matched Artorious in both build and bearing.
“And our pleasure,” Orren added, pushing blond, shoulder-length hair from his face.
Gyrak huffed and stepped closer, lowering his head to sniff me.
“Your dragons are tired. Let them rest and feed. I trust they will recover within a day?” I directed the question to my brother. He would lead them under my authority while they remained here. For the riders’ sake, Erwin answered to me.
“They didn’t stop when they reached the continent.” Ronan shook his head. “I want to give them two.”
My frown lifted toward the blue-and-green shape coasting overhead. “Tsunami was ready within a day.”
Sean barked a disbelieving laugh. “We were shocked when she took off. Straight into the storm! I still can’t decide if she’s mad or just… powerful.” His dragon craned its neck skyward, clicking in thoughtful agreement.
My smile came easy. “That menace is strong-willed. Always has been.”
As if summoned by the words, Tsunami slammed into the earth. Graceful landings were taught, not instinctive. Dragons tore trenches through soil without care, heedless of frightened livestock.
Cattle lowed. Pigs squealed. Donkeys brayed from nearby farmyards, chaos rippling outward with her impact. Farmers hurried to calm their animals.
I pressed my lips together. “Kallias, where would you like them to take their kills?” I asked, offering him the chance to draw the dragons away from the city.
He studied Tsunami as she peered down at us, golden eyes flaring wide before narrowing in curiosity. She shuffled closer, folding into a seated sprawl, tail curling neatly around her body. The tip came to rest against Kallias’ boot.
“Did you bond her?” Erwin asked, his face scrunched in disapproval.
“His Majesty,” I corrected, “has not bonded her. She’s merely enamored.” Rider status did not excuse poor manners.
They wouldn’t have spoken that way to my father.
Kallias shifted his weight, easing his foot from beneath her tail. “You’ll find open plains to the north. Take what your dragons require there and leave the village folk undisturbed.”
Tsunami chirped above us, punctuating his words, and slid her tail back until it brushed his boot again.
His gaze flicked to mine, and I squeezed his forearm in reassurance. She would follow her own. At least I hoped so. The continent stretched vast and tempting. Her fascination with him might prove a blessing if it kept her from raiding towns.
“Our dragons will rest, then we’ll fly east to meet you,” Erwin agreed. He nodded to Ronan, then cast another wary look at Kallias.
“When you arrive, send Nakos and stay aloft.” Ronan’s lips thinned as his eyes found the smallest green. “Breon’s the quickest. He’ll relay positions and orders until I reach you.”
“Done.” Erwin clapped Sean’s shoulder. “Mount up. Take only what’s necessary.”
With a series of bows, the riders returned to their dragons, clambering over paws and shoulders to climb into their leather saddles. Breon might’ve been the smallest, but he still dwarfed two wagons. Black horns curled around his skull like a ram’s, a rare trait. A whisper of an older bloodline.
They rose as one, Erwin and sleek Artorious leading the ascent.
Gyrak chuffed, snapping his jaws at Tsunami. She paid him no mind, gaze fixed on the others as they vanished into the sky.
“She’ll be coming with us?” Kallias asked, watching the gold-streaked belly overhead.
I bit back a laugh at the resignation threading his voice. She caused chaos, but never harm. “I daresay she goes wherever you go.”
He drew a breath, mantle lifting with a restrained sigh, then released a low grunt. “So be it.”
The second night in Lon pressed heavier than the first.
Fallione never paused. He moved constantly, directing, preparing, always steps ahead. A small group of servant boys trailed him, sprinting off at his command to deliver or retrieve. My dress was finished and delivered to my room before the evening meal, the advisor already waiting there.
“Your handmaid, Miss Edith, will arrive once you are safely in Reem,” he rattled off before I could ask. “Payment has been made for the nine sheep and two cows the dragons consumed,” he added without pause.
“There were no complaints?” Kallias asked, washing his face.
Fallione glanced up from his papers. “One cow was a milker. I compensated the family fully—enough to replace the animal and cover the lost milk.”
“But they weren’t pleased.” Kallias sighed, setting the rag aside and drying his skin with a fresh towel. He hadn’t taken a proper bath since we arrived, choosing to scour himself with soap and rough cloth.
“Nothing a king should trouble himself with,” Fallione hedged. “Until the creatures reach the Craggs and proper rations, some unrest among communities is unavoidable.”
“They will not be taking someone’s prized sow from her barn,” I shot back as Freya tightened my corset.
“Tsunami might,” she muttered under her breath.
I shifted, accidentally stepping on her toes. Drawing a surprised grunt. “Once we reach Reem, they’ll adjust to the city and take what we offer with grace.”
“I’ve seen them eat.” Kallias scoffed, combing his hair. “It is anything but graceful.”
“Back to the matter at hand,” Fallione said. “Sarai’lon is to attend tonight’s dinner.”
Kallias froze, catching my reflection in the mirror. He frowned, setting the comb down, eyes narrowing at his advisor. “And Mai’lon?”
“She will take her meal with her nursemaid.” Fallione shifted the stack of papers. His gaze met his king’s, careful and measured. “It would not be wise for her to join, though Sarai begged for your leave. It seemed… suitable for you to oblige.”
“She’ll seek to secure Lon for her daughter,” Kallias said, calm and calculating. “Prove herself trustworthy and earn my favor.”
“She knows we intend Elwood to rule until we settle in the capital. I expect she will try to sway you to her cause.”
“Was she loyal to Tallon?” I asked, remembering her pale, fearful expression. “Or merely afraid for her child?”
“The only reason Mai remained here instead of being locked away in Reem is that Tallon already had Lon’s support. Do we suspect Sarai would betray her husband?” Kallias shook his head, glancing at Greaves.
“They were inseparable at court.” His guard shrugged—always observing, catching the smallest detail.
Fallione sighed, raking a hand through gray hair. “My advice is to hear her. Lon desires stability. They will follow, but we cannot forget it was divided. Elwood has proved loyal. He opposed Kai—so much that he ended up in prison. Balance may serve better than forcing obedience.”
“The city will stand with us,” Greaves muttered, hooded eyes on Kallias.
Could we trust Lon not to side with Tallon? A misstep could trap us like a fish in a crab’s claw.
Silence settled. My husband stared at the floor, a muscle twitching beneath his jaw.
Freya adjusted my hair and fastened my boots, making a quiet circuit before I dismissed her.
“I will hear her,” Kallias said, lifting his gaze to mine. “For Mai’s sake, I owe her that.”
We moved through silent halls, servants darting out of sight as we passed. Smoke clung to the white walls, acrid and persistent. Dragonfire had that effect. It would take weeks before the sharp smell faded—but the people would never forget the horror of fire raining from a cloudless sky.
I flexed my hand against Kallias’ forearm, offering a tight smile.
My impression of Sarai had been brief, but her concern had centered on her daughter.
She hadn’t lingered when I escorted her to the rooms—not while her husband’s blood still stained my dress.
Even amid Kai’s terror, her attention remained on the child.
When she carried the girl away, her wide eyes betrayed no tears, only determination.
The dining hall stretched before us, the table crowded with food. Guests rose as we entered, their stares tracking to our seats at the head.
Greaves took his place behind Kallias. Fallione settled to his left. To my right, a young man with dark hair met my gaze. A crooked nose, a stitched gash across his brow, bruises shadowed beneath his eyes.
He offered a wry smile, lifting a hand to his face. “Good evening, Your Majesties. I apologize for my appearance.”