Chapter 21
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.”
“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—who happened 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.
I moved through the palace corridors, reached the door, and shoved it open.
Darkness swallowed the room—and not only because the curtains remained drawn. Something heavier. Furniture lay shrouded in black sheets, a faint crimson glow seeping from beneath the fabric. Animal skulls merged with snakeskins along the walls.
And that was only what the dim light revealed.
I swallowed the shudder and crossed the receiving room, yanking the curtains wide. Dust floated through the air as sunlight poured in.
Alea grimaced at the macabre decor, then pressed her lips together and met my gaze.
“Tell me,” I said as the Threshers closed the door.
“I don’t mean to make it more than it is.” She winced. “She hasn’t been compromised, Your Majesty.”
The words stoked my anger. As though only stolen innocence deserved rage.
I reined myself in, softening my tone, hands clasped before me. “What happened?”
“It’s known that Bac’phares favors young women. His wife would never tolerate a bastard, but his attention can be… difficult.”
Alea was my age, perhaps a year older. The way she spoke suggested she also suffered his affections. I raised my brows and waited.
“It’s little more than lingering looks, or seeking girls out to accompany him. Accidental touches.” Her mouth tightened. “It’s always something excusable—an older man remembering his youth.”
“But it’s not,” I said.
She met my glare, worrying her lip. “I can’t condemn him for the company he keeps.”
Bac was powerful. Calculated. Without overt action, I had no grounds to fry him like cod. This was one of those moments Kallias would temper his fury, trust instinct, and wait.
But I was not Kallias.
“Thank you,” I said, forcing a smile. “He’ll return to his district once we’re finished. Please tell Ish’neer she’s free from his attentions. If he asks after any of the girls, send for me instead.”
No one would make the heirs uneasy after everything they endured under Tallon’s brief reign.
“As you wish. Is there anything else, Your Majesty?”
“Only that you keep me informed of their needs.” I shook my head. “They’ve suffered enough. If I can ease this wait, I will.”
“You already have. I’ll send word if I learn more.”
“Thank you.”
I waited until she left before letting my gaze wander.
Crimson overlaid one obsidian wall; its design reminded me of a blood-red spider’s web. Bones and skulls hung from the walls, and my stomach churned at the sight of so much death.
I was no stranger to skeletons. The dragon’s nest had been my playground; fish bones were my first toys. But this—here in Radaan? How could Kallias ever have married someone like her?
He wouldn’t have. Even as a young man, there was no conceivable way.
Dust coated the draped furniture, and I peeled back a sheet, folding it to keep the grit contained. Beneath lay a sofa of dark wood, red cushions embroidered in deeper crimson.
Did she favor only two colors?
Bitterness rose as I uncovered more. This was not a woman Kallias married, but someone he endured—someone who changed while bound to him. What cruelty lived in a marriage that warped with time? To vow to one person only for them to become another.