Chapter Sixteen
Kallias
The white flag cracked above my head in a gust of wind.
A fresh wave of rage slammed into me, and I shoved it down.
This was no time or place for rash actions.
Tallon was too deceptive. Once, I would have taken pride that my reasoning and calculating discipline had passed to my heir—now I felt disgusted, knowing it came from his mother, and possibly his Velli father.
Part of me still wondered, an inkling of doubt clutching at my mind, if he was truly mine.
Half of me wanted to have sired him—though I would never let him rule—just to reassure myself I could give Nienna what she deserved.
I recoiled at the thought. Beyond the question of lineage, Nienna’s claim lingered: she had felt itching in her veins when he was near—that condemned him.
The forces at my back were quiet, tense, waiting. Dragons circled high above as Nienna rode up beside me. Erwin, the middle-aged Dragon Rider, flinched, uncomfortable on his mount, and his horse snorted, sensing his nerves.
Fallione wouldn’t attend. This meeting was for me, Nienna, the bastard prince, and whoever he brought. Erwin and Greaves weren’t welcome, but I didn’t care. My guard went where I did, and we needed the rider. Tallon could take his requests and toss them to the four winds.
I swallowed my pride, bottling my frustration, and turned to Nienna. She offered a tight-lipped smile before I could form my question, then nodded.
She was ready.
I drew a steadying breath, settled into the saddle, and squeezed my calves around the horse.
A tent rose from the plains in the distance, planted squarely in the middle of our camps. Scouts had watched the setup, tracking every item and man that entered.
I glanced over my shoulder, searching for Fallione’s signal. Sure enough, he wheeled a bright chestnut mare south and rode away. Tallon was moving toward the tent. Everything was unfolding as planned.
My sword was missing at my side, my spear left behind at camp, but a dagger hid nestled in my boot. No weapons were allowed, but who would check me? Tallon? If he came close, I’d be tempted to stab him. And Egath? He would be dead before he could blink.
It was too coincidental that Tallon started his tricks when that Velli arrived. No doubt he had a hand in bringing his people over the Craggs—a breach of the treaty.
Another battle for another day.
Elohios, guide me, I prayed, letting all other whispers fade. I had only one task: take Tallon captive.
We dismounted at the tent, and Nienna hooked her arm in mine. Then we waited.
Inside, a fine rug covered the ground, with four chairs at its corners. A small bar stood at one side, stocked with wine and liquor. The scene whispered of leisure, not a peace meeting to avoid civil war.
Then the canvas pulled aside, and I saw Tallon.
My heart slammed against my ribs, adrenaline boiling through me. I shifted, pressing the steel blade in my boot against my calf.
He donned an overcoat of black velvet trimmed in silver, and wore his hair long. It fell into his face, unkempt. His mantle mocked authority—silver webbed across his chest as if molten metal had dripped over his shoulders, pooling toward the thin, brittle pauldrons.
As he stepped into the tent’s shade, a ruby caught the light—a spider fashioned over his heart.
Nienna’s hand clenched my forearm, claws digging into my coat.
Egath loomed beside Tallon, his mature frame making the prince resemble a spoiled heir rather than a king. The Velli’s brilliant green eyes flicked between Nienna and me, and he grinned, showing rows of filed teeth.
“Father, I see you received my message.” Tallon’s grin faltered at the sight of Greaves and Erwin. “Though it seems you cannot follow instructions.”
“Tie the canvas back,” I snapped, stiffening. “I will not speak unless we are visible.”
“Some things are better kept private.” His voice was smooth, but his eyes lingered on Nienna’s mantle. “But we all know how you like to flaunt power.”
Egath moved, securing the ties at the entrance. I remained silent, mouth tight.
Elohios, give me wisdom. I wanted revenge, but I did not serve his brother, Nyryn.
“I see you’ve saddled her with a mantle,” Tallon mused, waving to the chairs. “Please—sit.”
Nienna’s hand trembled against mine. Rage or fear? I guessed fury.
“After you.” I kept my voice even, and he leered, as if entertaining a child.
He took his place, and I led Nienna across from him, shielding her with Erwin behind. Egath claimed the chair beside Tallon; I sat in front of Greaves. None of them were within reach. Three strides to the bastard prince, five to my guard.
“I’m surprised you’ve come to discuss your surrender.” Tallon’s eyebrows arched, brushing something off his trousers.
“I’ve not agreed to those terms,” I said. “I’m here to discuss Radaan’s future.”
“The future of this kingdom lies with me,” he replied, glancing at Egath—almost as if he were seeking assurance.
I narrowed my eyes. “It would have—but you squandered that chance.”
“I suppose you wish for me to take Nienna now? Bed your seconds to secure our line?”
His words were a spark in my chest, threatening to ignite. “We both know you weren’t sired from my loins.”
Egath’s pupils flickered, expanding and contracting, but his face remained neutral. The prince schemed, but that Velli pulled the strings.
“Now you slander your late wife?” Tallon’s voice took on a dangerous edge. “My mother?” His brows dropped, glare flaring.
A sneer twitched at his lip—perhaps the only person he’d ever truly cared for was his mother. His gaze slid to Egath, as if waiting for permission.
I straightened in my chair, angling my boot so the dagger rested within easy reach.
“Let’s not get distracted.” Egath smiled, those sharp teeth on display. His posture was relaxed, sprawled and careless, as if dragons were not circling overhead.
“The ambassador is right.” Tallon’s gaze slithered over Nienna, and my stomach twisted at the slow, possessive drag of his eyes. “Father, you can see Reem does not welcome your return. You ran off with my wife, and I want her back.”
Nienna’s breath snagged in a muffled gasp. Her hand flew to her wrist, rubbing hard.
A dragon roared above us.
“Enough of your games.” I snarled, easing my guard, letting the beast draw more chain to catch Tallon’s attention. “I’ve renounced you as heir. You have no claim to Radaan.”
He didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, his mouth curled into something warped as he watched Nienna clutch her wrist.
“I wear the mantle, Father. You soiled your nation chasing what was mine. The throne of Radaan has been reforged.”
“The silver on your shoulders is no stronger than the spider’s web it mimics,” Nienna said, voice steady, stripped of the fear he craved. “And just as easily consumed by fire.”
Egath leaned forward, the movement sharp enough to make Greaves shift behind me.
“This can be resolved quite simply—we have terms.” Tallon’s jaw jutted, petulant and furious. “Give me Nienna back, and I’ll return Reem.”
My nostrils flared. Elohios help me—I was going to kill him. “You never wanted her.”
“I changed my mind.” His grin widened. “But she must swear a Draconis Blood Oath.”
“I am not a card to be played, nor a prize to be traded, Tallon the Renounced,” Nienna snapped, spine straight, hands settling on the chair arms, ready to rise. “I am Queen of Radaan, claimed by the Golden Warrior Purged in Dragonfire. My body is no longer negotiable.”
A dragon swept low over the tent, her fury bound to theirs.
Egath raised a placating hand, eyes flicking to the canvas above. “There has been no Radaanian wedding. She is not bound in the sight of your people. Until then–”
“Egath of Wrath,” I said, tone lethal, “keep your forked tongue behind your vile teeth, or I will remove it.” Hatred bled into my stare.
He tilted his head and reclined.
“The Velli advises me during Fallione’s apparent treason.” Tallon scoffed. “He is the only reason I speak instead of taking what is mine.”
“She’s not yours to take.” I leaned forward, arm draped over my knee, body coiled. Gods, how I wanted to grab my knife and slit his throat. “You stupid boy—did you learn nothing from me? Negotiation requires leverage.”
He laughed, stunned. “Kallias, I hold your capital.”
“And we have dragons.” My smile showed teeth, all threat.
“You ruin everything you touch,” Tallon hissed. “You would burn your own people for pride.”
“As dross in the fire,” Nienna’s words darkened with promise, “our dragons will leave Reem gleaming as freshly smithed gold.”
“All this trouble over a woman.” His stare clung to her, rage flushing his face.
“Surrender, Tallon,” I said. “Against my better judgment, I will offer you a fair trial.”
Egath chuckled, the audacity of it. “We’re not concerned with your beasts—we seek to end this peacefully.” His lips closed over his teeth, an attempt at an apologetic smile.
“It would be simpler to drag you both to the dungeon than meet you on open ground,” Tallon said. “Kallias, will you truly pit brother against brother? Let me rule. You’ve grown old. Soft. Admit you took Nienna to feel young again.”
“You spurned me!” Nienna barely kept her seat, fury blazing. “I would have married you at once—if you had wanted me. But you pushed me away. You hated me.”
“You admit you would have me.” Tallon laughed, slapping his chest. “Kallias, you’ve had weeks to bed her. What? Could you not satisfy–”
“Enough!” My fist tightened, hovering above my boot. “If we leave this tent without a truce, we meet in blood. Do you surrender Reem?”
His mirth died, and he cocked his head—too owlish—and studied me with green eyes so like his mother’s. Like Egath’s.
“I will not relinquish what is mine—”
His thigh tensed. My breath hitched.
“—And I will take what I am owed.”
Warm steel kissed my palm.
We lunged at the same time, but Egath slammed into me, and my worst fear took shape.
Tallon hadn’t gone for me.
He seized Nienna faster than my sight could track.
With the speed of a blooded Velli.