Chapter 60
Chapter Sixty
Nienna
The king of Radaan moved through the vast halls of the Velli palace. An enemy hiding under Deimos’ nose, blinded by their arrogance and ignorance.
Vellos knew Kallias as the man who never recognized the value in crossing the Craggs. His life’s mission had always been to protect his people, never to conquer. He dealt in preservation, in life—but they had made a catastrophic miscalculation.
He had something to pursue. Kallias Sunspear was not the same man they fought before. He had my heart, a taste of love.
And now he would deal in death, spending it like currency, the royal coffers thrown open, his wrath unbound.
When Aida roused me to eat, I tore into the plate.
Each bite clashed with my stomach, rebelling against the richness, but I forced it down.
Every morsel fueled the strength I would need.
I wouldn’t make him carry me. When Kallias came for me, I would run beside him, match his stride, not drag behind.
With lips pressed together, she tried to offer a smile—a meager gesture of comfort. “He will be pleased,” she murmured.
A tense, horrible anticipation coiled inside me. I would witness Kallias reduce Vellos to nothing but heaped ruins. My dragons would scorch Tallon and the Velli palace until it existed only as drifting ash.
Let them feed me, strengthen me. They had no idea I’d be their doom.
“I would like to bathe,” I said, my voice firmer than before. Kallias’ spark of hope kindled somewhere deep in me. It fed my soul, bolstering my resolve. I was a queen draped in sweat and blood.
“It is not my place to ask,” Aida whispered, her tone tremulous, careful not to carry.
“Don’t bother with Tallon. Give my request to King Deimos.”
The plate clattered to the floor. She gasped, snatching it up, fingers trembling as she tried to mask her shock. Wide, dark eyes flicked to the door, then back to me. Questions swirled in their depths before she blinked them away.
Leverage. Power. Greed. I could play this game, setting Tallon against his Velli king.
“If you’re certain,” she said, straightening with the plate and cup, offering a final chance to change my mind. It revolted me that she feared Tallon more than the horrors of her own sovereign.
What atrocities had he wrought against these people to make them tremble so?
She departed without another word, leaving me to sink onto the bed and bask in the visions of Tsunami devouring Tallon, of Kallias pulling me close.
The Velli women moved with deliberate care, fingers tender as they washed my back.
Warm water pooled over my tense muscles, seeping into the knots of fatigue, coaxing days of weariness from my frame.
Even in the steam and warmth, my neck remembered the bite of cold metal, a quiet whisper of Tallon’s cruelty.
He had left it off again, and I couldn’t tell if it was mercy, a prelude to feeding, or simply because he only fastened it when he wanted to humiliate me in front of the court.
The three of them worked over my hair and body, scrubbing away grime. The soap was sharp, pungent, herby—more reminiscent of a hearty meal than the faint, perfumed scent of a noblewoman.
Their silence was unbroken. I almost wondered if they were mute, guiding me through the cleansing with gentle hands that carried no expectation. It was a rare indulgence. Here, I outranked them, and they treated me with a care I had long gone without.
The door burst open.
The women recoiled, darting against the walls, heads bowed, hands clasped in front of them.
I flinched, water sloshing, muscles snapping taut, bracing against pain that hadn’t yet arrived but always lingered near when his presence entered a room.
“Cunning Nienna.” Tallon’s oily voice slid across the floorboards, low and smooth, sending my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
I wrapped my arms around my chest, the bath reclaiming fragments of dignity. “A proper prince would have knocked.”
Egath followed behind him, using his heel to kick the door shut. His dark gaze swept the women before settling on me, and I felt the weight of that stare cut straight through me with frustrating intensity.
I flattened my mouth into a line, denying the hint of a smile that threatened to betray my defiance. He hadn’t found Kallias.
“Have you forgotten who you belong to?” Tallon’s hum slithered into my ears as he crouched beside the tub.
“No.” My body refused him. I belonged to myself—to Kallias. Not to any Velli.
He leaned closer, hand curling around my throat with teasing pressure. My breath caught, lungs fluttering against the sudden oppression, but his grip was light. He lifted me as though my body moved of its own volition, not by force—a show of dominance that required my silent surrender.
Rage erupted through me, hot and relentless, as water cascaded down my trembling skin. His lips twitched, amusement dark and private, before his gaze roamed, assessing.
“I didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. And you, going past me to seek his favor. Do you actually believe he cares for you?”
“More than you.” My wet hands wrapped around his wrists, nails biting into his sleeve.
He chuckled, tossing me back into the bath. My feet slipped across the soapy basin; my body crashed into water, head ducking under the surface with a splash that left me choking for air.
A hand clamped into my hair, forcing me down further. My arms flailed, seeking the tub’s rim, grasping for purchase that refused to come. My mouth opened in panicked gasps, lungs screaming for breath.
He needed me alive.
I stilled, surrendering to the roaring panic within me. Mental walls slammed into place, locking my body into forced tranquility. He couldn’t kill me.
“Tallon!” Egath’s voice cut through, muffled and urgent beneath the water.
My lungs burned. My arms weakened with every passing second. Let him try to drown me. Egath would intervene.
Fingers dug into my scalp, hauling me back to the surface. I gasped, sucking in gulps of air as relief and fear tangled inside me.
He brushed my hair from my face, dangerous green eyes glinting. “Be careful how far you push me, little princess. Your body is mine.”
“And yet you value it so little.” I coughed, water dripping from my lashes. “I had to beg my enemy for a simple bath. If you truly wanted this body to last long enough to carry a child, perhaps you would take more care with it.”
“I don’t need you clean to fill you with my seed.” His words were soft, deliberate, as he shoved my head back, rising to his full height. “Come here.” His finger jabbed toward one of the women standing, obedient, along the wall.
Egath’s eyes narrowed. I tried to shrink within the tub, water sloshing around me, watching in horror as the woman kept her head lowered, hands clasped. With her back to me, her compliance burned through me like ice.
Tallon drew a dagger.
Egath blurred forward, intercepting him before the blade could descend. The servant trembled but stayed still, shoulders stiff, unflinching. Tallon’s attention shifted from her to his cousin, a flicker of irritation in his gaze.
“You’ve slit enough throats today,” Egath hissed, straining against Tallon’s strength.
“What’s one more?” Tallon snarled, eyes flashing toward me. “She thinks she’s so strong. I want her to see what I can do.” His laughter was bitter and jagged.
“One more will rile Deimos. Feed from her, but lower the dagger.”
It was grotesque. Egath pleading for a single life, a mere citizen with no voice, no will. The woman would stand there and allow her throat to be slashed without protest. He wanted me to witness it, to understand the full measure of his cruelty.
But I already knew.
Tallon jerked free of Egath’s grasp and backed up a step.
Egath met my gaze over her shoulder. He tugged at the collar of her simple black dress, exposing the mangled mess of scars with a contented sigh. She tilted her head just enough to let his lips press against her skin.
His green eyes drilled into mine as his nose brushed along those pale, crescent ridges.
The warmth of the bathwater vanished, replaced by a cold chill that slithered down my spine.
He made it intimate, seductive—as though the way he traced her neck for the softest spot to bite belonged to a moment caught between lovers.
But there was nothing tender or loving here.
His gaze carried promises sharp as razors, desire raw and consuming. He bared his teeth, the points gleaming, and snapped his jaw over her skin.
And I knew he imagined me instead.
Crimson bloomed along his lips, but he drew back with a hiss. Tallon surged forward, pushing him aside. He seized the woman’s arms, holding her as if she might vanish, but she remained slack and limp, letting him take what he wanted.
Egath settled onto the edge of the bed, long legs crossed, hands clasped over his knee. He didn’t wipe the dark streaks of blood from his chin. Instead, he nodded to the other two servants.
“Finish her bath.”
I was a fool. Deimos granted my request to bathe, but he hadn’t come for me. I assumed that if I reached out to him, he would sneak me away—and I’d get under the open sky.
But instead, only Tallon came, staggering down the halls like a drunken shadow to fetch me for dinner. He clamped that absurd collar—my mutilated mantel—around my throat. His fumbled movements were careless and brutal, pinching the sensitive skin beneath its clasp.
His uneven strides yanked at me; every lurch and misstep twisted my back, pain radiating in slow, probing pulses.
Egath followed, calm and detached, eyes like knives, body close enough to intervene but choosing not to—his restraint a taut wire stretched between us and disaster.