Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Nienna
“You were to keep her in the sky.” Kallias’ snarl cracked through the room the moment the door shut.
“You were supposed to keep your hands to yourself. Look where that got us.”
Kallias gripped the table’s edge, his eye twitching. The healer working on his arm shifted back, sensing the raw heat radiating off him.
“Ronan, mind your tongue,” I hissed.
“And you—ordering my dragon?” He leaned close, a sneer cutting across his face. “Do that again, sis, and we’ll have problems.”
Kallias lurched, hands braced against the table, nose-to-nose with the Prince of Draconia. “She is Queen of Radaan. The treaty I signed with your father states she does, in fact, have authority over the beasts.”
“No, she–” Ronan shook his head, straightening. He ran a hand through his hair, yanking his flight goggles free. “You don’t understand dragons.”
“No, but I do,” I snapped. “Both of you, sit. Why did Tsunami cause a scene?”
My brother collapsed into the chair opposite me, tossing his goggles onto the table. “To bond him!” He jabbed a gloved finger at my husband, who sank slowly into his seat.
I offered my arm to the healer. “She has no interest in bonding him.”
“She’s had ample opportunity,” Kallias muttered, a begrudging agreement. The man beside him leaned forward, cloth in hand, cautious as continued cleaning his wound.
Ronan scoffed. “You’re refusing her. There’s never been a dragon this… obsessed. She follows you like an abandoned pup, and you spurn her.”
“I met her in a field of my men, alone. Nothing happened,” Kallias ground out, fingers curling into a fist.
“I can’t believe that. Even the other dragons know there’s something between you. I try to protect you both, and your little ceremony, yet you act like I’m at fault.”
“That’s childish, Ronan.” I reclined in my seat, disgusted. “It was your job to keep her in the sky. I warned you the blood might push her over the edge.”
“Gyrak’s the only one big enough to put her in her place. She fears nothing but brute strength. You specifically requested my presence on the ground, Queen Nienna. When she loosed dragonfire, Gyrak had no choice but to bring her to heel.”
I pressed my lips together, staring at the grain of the wooden table beneath my palm as the healer wrapped my arm.
None of it made sense. No other dragon stayed without bonding a rider.
They all left, following their baser instincts.
Yet Tsunami remained—clinging to my husband like a pup, but refused to bond.
Perhaps she wanted to… but couldn’t, because of his tie to his god.
“I want her banned from the plains.”
Both our heads snapped to Kallias.
“I expect you think we can sit her down, explain she’s banished, over a cup of tea?” Ronan drawled.
“You can’t tell a dragon where to go,” I said. Constant repetition of today’s chaos would be the only result.
Kallias shook his head, eyes narrowing at me. “I will not have her terrorizing my people, dogging my every step.”
He wasn’t angry with me, just frustrated. What should have been a display of unity, a day for Radaan, had spiraled into a dragon-pissing war. He had to clean up a mess my dragons made—even if no one was at fault. He didn’t want it happening again.
And neither did I.
I drew a steadying breath. “Tomorrow we prepare to find Tallon?”
His eye twitched, though he tried to mask it with a wince and a flex of his bandaged fingers. “I ride out as soon as we have a secure lead.”
“Then let her follow. If she likes you so much, she’ll protect you—”
“At what cost?”
“—And once Tallon is dealt with, veer to the Craggs. Hope her interest lies there. The bulls can,” I rolled the word across my tongue, unwilling to say it aloud, “encourage her to stay.”
Ronan laughed. “She’ll do much worse than tipping ships if you try to pen her in.”
“We’ll weather that storm when it comes,” I snapped. “For now, she is nursing her wounds and should leave us be.”
“She didn’t go far.” My brother tilted his head, eyes tracking the ceiling for a long moment. “She’s loitering—waiting for his scent again, I wager.”
Kallias stiffened as the healer finished the bandage on his arm. “If she lands, we will deal with it. Remember your place, rider.”
Ronan leaned back, brows rising in mocking surprise at the lower title. “If she challenges Gyrak, that’s dragon business. I have no power there.”
“If you can’t control your beast, then I will.”
“Is that a threat, old man?”
The glare Kallias leveled at him could have sent any other running for the hills. “Nienna,” he said, gaze flicking my way, “we have a feast to attend.”
My arm pinched as the healer tied the bandage, and I leaned back to rise. My dear husband wasted no time guiding me out of the cramped room. Greaves’ amusement danced in his expression as we passed; he trailed behind in silence.
“I fear for his life,” Kallias muttered under his breath.
Ronan? What purpose would his death serve? I would still control the dragons. “Someone wishes him dead?”
“Me.” He sighed, weary, a faint scoff breaking through at my relief. “For the healer’s sake, I didn’t push him out the window.”
“If you had, his dragon would have caught him.” I chuckled. “That’s the terrible truth about riders, especially princes—too much power for such a small human.”
The slice along my forearm was a minor grievance, joining the tight scab on my neck. I stole a glance at the bandage creeping up Kallias’ arm, scarlet seeping through already.
“Did I cut you too deep?” I whispered.
He threaded his fingers through mine, pressing our wounds side by side. “No. You didn’t hurt me, Nienna. The people needed to see blood.” His breath tickled my ear as he leaned close. “It’s part of the ceremony, after all.”
I laughed, shoulders easing with relief.
We reached the western entrance, where long ago I had first arrived at the Golden Palace, a nervous but determined princess.
The vast space was crowded, transformed into an outdoor feast to rival the dawn of the Awakening.
Tables and attendees stretched as far as I could see, brushing against towering buildings that blurred into the distance.
Stepping onto the dais, we entered a charred circle—a remnant of the Dragon’s Kiss I had bestowed on Kallias. Meant as a symbol of our nations joining, I had never imagined it would bind our very souls.
“Radaan, behold! Your King and Queen!” The herald’s voice boomed over the crowd.
Anticipation rippled through the throng, then exploded into a united cry. “Blessed be the King and Queen!”
A genuine smile broke across my face as I returned the crowd’s energy. Despite Tsunami’s antics, it worked. Kallias was right—the people were reclaiming joy, seeking goodness in the wake of Tallon’s reign. He had given them a celebration to grasp, a momentary reprieve.
He led me down the stairs, then through the masses. Noblemen and women offered felicitations, each eager to share the gifts they had brought. I stayed close, committing faces and names to memory. With Alea’s help, I would ensure every thanks reached its rightful recipient.
“Your Majesties, congratulations.” A fine couple bowed deeply. A small girl clung to her mother’s skirts, peering at me with a shy smile.
“You’re the Tals, I presume.” I nodded at Seraph, who giggled and ducked behind her mother.
“Oh, you must curtsy to the queen!” The woman corrected gently, prying her free, then demonstrated the motion herself. “Kaylin’tal. It’s a pleasure to meet you, my queen.”
“And Don’tal.” The man bowed deeply, head dipping toward his knees. When he straightened, he dragged a hand through his tousled silver hair, jaw tight, eyes shimmering as he saluted Kallias. “My king. You kept my girl safe—I can never repay you for that. You have my sincerest thanks.”
An understanding smile flickered across my husband’s lips as he rested a palm on the man’s shoulder. “It is the duty of the king to protect his people.” His eyes caught Seraph’s, grinning. “Radaan has a bright future with her.”
“She is quite good at singing,” I offered, hands clasped before me.
Kaylin tilted her head. “Oh, she’s normally so shy!”
“I am the queen,” I whispered, tapping my ear as a little face peeked at me. “I have ears everywhere. And she has a voice that could make the stars weep.”
Seraph frowned. “I don’t want the stars to cry!”
We all laughed while Kaylin explained the compliment.
A familiar presence flickered across the corner of my vision, and my smile froze, pasted in place. Wary eyes met mine, and the woman twisted to put her back to me. Just the press of the crowd, I told myself—but something felt off, as if she were trying to hide who she spoke to.
“Excuse me.” I cut into the conversation as politely as I could, wrapping my fingers around Kallias’ bicep. “I’ll be a moment.”
A shadow of concern passed through his eyes, though his smile remained cordial and understanding. “The feast will begin shortly.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I teased, knowing the unspoken message: he’d come find me if I didn’t return.
Within the masses, pockets of bodies formed around me—courtesy of Lynx, ever watchful. The massive Thresher towered above everyone, a walking banner announcing my approach.
Not the subtlety I’d hoped for.
Penelope spotted me, shoving a canteen into a man’s hands. Dark hair, pale skin, average build, fine green clothes, slight poof to his sleeves in outdated fashion. That was all I gleaned before he vanished into the crowd surging around me.
I fought the urge to chase him—or scream at the people to stop him based on instinct—and instead smiled at Penelope.
“It’s good to see you here,” I said, stopping before her.
“As you, Your Majesty.” Her eyes widened, pupils pinpricked. Color drained from her face. “Congratulations, and blessings on the blood shed today. I particularly enjoyed the display of your dragons.” Her tongue stumbled over the last word.
“Who was your friend? I’m afraid I just missed him.”
A tremor ran through her.