Epilogue
Kallias
Tsunami’s roar shook the rafters, sending dust from centuries past drifting into the air. I threw the report down, glaring at the ceiling. Frustration coiled in my chest as I shoved my chair back, determined to have Nienna quiet the beast. I stormed across my study, yanking the door open.
Freya stood in the hall, hand raised as if to knock.
I glared at the temporary kingsguard stationed in the corridor. “If I must tell you that you’re free to enter without knocking one more time–”
The blasted dragon shrieked again, rattling the portraits along the walls.
“Is she tearing the palace apart?” I demanded, straining toward the window.
“The queen is in labor, Your Majesty.”
My brain stuttered, calculating how to respond. Summon the healers—Edith would have been with her. Call Gayle—the elderly woman had taken Nienna under her wing, surely already waiting in her rooms. Visit her? No, a husband was only in the way during labor, long and grueling as it could be.
Freya’s mouth pinched into a nervous smile. “Do you have a request?”
“See to your queen.” I shook my head and closed the door without waiting for a response. See to your queen? What else could her maid do?
I paced the room. Gaius if it was a boy—Nienna had fixated on that name after discovering it belonged to my great-grandfather. Talathia, if a girl. At least I’d chosen that one. My mind swarmed—I should summon the scribes, have them ready to record the time and day of birth.
The nursery was already prepared. Gayle appointed godsmother. Sarai, the sweet nursemaid with three children of her own, was ready. A governess, educated in multiple kingdoms and fluent in six languages, waited to instruct and comfort.
I blinked, realizing I was staring at the wall.
With frayed nerves, I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the graying strands. She was young. The best healers in Radaan and Draconia at her side. She would be fine. I would just be underfoot.
A knock tore me from my thoughts, and I threw the door open, half-expecting Freya to hold a newborn.
Clay laughed.
I straightened, glaring down my nose. “What is it?”
“Your wife is having a baby, but you look as if you’re the one in shock!” He beckoned with a wave. “Gayle sent me to fetch you.”
I squared my shoulders. Gods above, I was a king. I’d experienced childbirth before.
Just not one I was so anxious about.
He guided me through the halls to the nursery. I hesitated at the door, uncertainty spiking. I had been pushed aside before—younger, then—immature and unsteady.
But Nienna was not Eldeiade.
I let out a slow breath, turned the handle, and stepped inside.
Edith prepared a tub while Freya darted past with a bucket. My wife braced against the dresser, one hand on her back, the other pushing against the wood. Her face contorted in silent pain.
Tsunami’s claws clutched the ornate balcony railing, crushing it beneath her. Eyes fixed on Nienna, teeth bared in a snarl.
Gayle sat on a sofa, legs propped on a stool. Her knitting needles flew, glancing occasionally at her queen.
Clay shut the door behind me, trapping me with the women. Gods, I was out of place. Useless.
“Kallias, take off your mantle. A king is not needed here.” Gayle’sol set aside her yarn and rose. “A husband is.”
I frowned, balking at her command. But this room was sacred, a space of trust. Much like the Manor in the Mountains, here we were friends—not just noblemen and kings. I followed her guidance, carefully releasing the chains and clasps.
Nienna made a soft sound, something between a sigh and a nervous laugh, straightening to run a hand over her protruding belly. “Are you well?” she asked, crossing the room to help me. Her glittering scales lay in the corner, mantle already set aside.
She had to twist to reach me, the babe in her womb pressing outward. It bothered her, how large she was. The swell of her belly was striking, two, maybe three times the size of an average noblewoman.
“Your body is bracing to bring Radaan’s heir into the world, and you ask if I’m well?” I scoffed, brushing my hand over her stomach. Soon, I would cradle the child in my arms. I would miss this phase—the quiet, tense beauty of life forming—knowing it was mine. That filled me with base pride.
She laughed, dropping the last chain. “You look as if you might faint.”
“I assure you, my consciousness shall remain intact.” I shrugged off the mantle, then set it beside hers. When I turned back to her, her eyes were closed, legs braced, breathing through the contraction.
My hands dangled at my sides, useless.
Gayle strode past, opening a bag of herbs. Brushing my arm, she nodded toward Nienna. “It’s her first time. Follow her lead. Your bodies know what to do.”
Tsunami thrashed, tail slapping the ground. She snorted, wind from her breath scattering the curtains. My lovely wife had opened the balcony door, welcoming the dragon’s presence.
With gritted teeth, I loosened my collar. I was King, confident, assertive. I knew how to handle myself in every situation. But right now? I was a husband first. Even the gods could not keep me from this—from doing my best to aid my child into this world.
Childbirth was long and arduous, an affair that would test the stamina of the strongest warriors.
Nienna moved and paced with the sun high.
And as her pains grew closer, she settled into the tub, dragging me with her.
I perched on the edge behind her, massaging her shoulders, down her arms. Healers moved in and out, murmuring soft instructions.
By Elohios, Nienna was a silent warrior. Knees drawn up, body working through contractions with quiet, measured breaths. No screams of agony, no frantic calls for aid—just focus, pain endured inwardly.
When she relaxed, her head fell against my thigh, breaths heaving from exertion.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, her composure broke. She grabbed my knee, yanking me down. I slipped into the massive tub behind her, chest flush against her back. She arched into me, breath hissing through clenched teeth.
I held her, eyes fixed on her maid as she reached between Nienna’s legs, healers clustering close.
“The babe is crowning! Push, Nienna—push!”
Her head lolled, pressing into my shoulder, muffled cries escaping with each gasping breath.
A hazy pink stained the clear water.
“Push!” Edith barked.
“Rest will come later,” I whispered, heel of my hand digging into her neck. “Push, my queen.”
“Next time, you’re doing this!” she snarled, head snapping forward, bearing down with a groan that rattled the room. Her body stretched taut as a bowstring, threatening to snap. My heart thundered at the terrible, exquisite beauty of her strain.
I held my scarred wife, soaked with water and her own blood, as our babe was born.
Edith scooped the infant, lifting it above the birthing tub. Bluish-purple blotches marked its skin, red and white residue clinging to folds, dark blood caught in tiny creases.
A burst of fierce pride swelled in my soul. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Edith placed the babe on Nienna’s chest.
I stared down at the child, taking its first gasping breaths. My queen, my wife, my life clutched it close; a shocked laugh mingled with a sob.
“Greetings, little one,” she choked out.
The newborn scrunched its face, offended by the light, sound, air—the world—and screamed.
I laughed, unable to stop myself, then reached around to trace a tiny foot. The little body was so small—terribly so—barely as long as my forearm.
“Welcome to the world, Your Highness,” Edith said, grinning, wiping blood from her hands. “She will be a fine ruler one day.”
“Talathia,” I murmured, thumb brushing the tiniest of toes. She writhed, wailing at the sensation.
Tsunami growled, ending in a sharp, barking chuff. She’d grown quieter as the labor progressed, but no less bothersome. Her maw pressed against the doors as far as she could reach without shattering glass, nostrils flaring to drink in the scent.
Nienna hushed the babe, offering her breast, but the infant turned away, screaming.
Tsunami keened, a pleading wail that filled the room.
“She will calm,” Edith murmured, bending over us, guiding little Talathia back to the breast.
My strong, beautiful, radiantly fierce wife rested her head against my shoulder, bloodshot eyes meeting mine. We both understood.
“She’ll not rest until it’s over.”
I couldn’t comprehend it. Unprecedented in any history, any world, yet I scoffed. “Rest.”
I detached from my wife, letting bathwater cascade down my body. My thin tunic clung to my chest, trousers sagging at my hips, dragged down by the soaked weight.
“A knife,” I ordered, holding out my hand.
Edith frowned, but a healer obeyed, dropping a silver dagger into my palm. I stepped out, sloshing bloodied water across rugs, then grabbed the cord tethering mother to babe. Folding it, I eased the blade through and severed it.
Then I reached down to take my heir into my arms.
She shrieked, fists pressed to her cheeks as if to hide from the world. I cradled her against my chest, tucking her tight.
Tsunami’s lips curled, nostrils flaring in urgency, almost whimpering.
“Trouble,” I muttered, crossing the room. “You’ll be nothing but trouble.” The babe kicked for emphasis, turning her face toward me to scream in defiance.
As I approached the blue-green dragon, I shifted Talathia in my arms. Even the smallest of Tsunami’s teeth dwarfed her. Wood groaned and glass cracked as she strained, lips stretching, reaching, lipping at the air as if the meager handspan could close the distance.
It wasn’t Nienna’s milk that would calm the child.
It was her dragon.
I offered the princess of Radaan to Tsunami, letting those great scales graze the dark tuft of hair.
Talathia stiffened, cries dying in her throat.
I pressed her closer; Tsunami exhaled long, eyes fluttering closed, relaxing.
Talathia’s lips sagged in a frown before those tiny lashes struggled to part.
My shoulder shook with a chuckle. All this time, Ronan had thought the dragon pursued me, never once considering it was my seed.
I was never meant for the skies. No, I was earthbound—boots on grass, fields of wheat, green life, and rich soil—but my daughter?
She would lift Radaan to new heights, fearless and untamed.
Gods, I would have my hands full.
Nienna’s hiss of pain tore my attention back to the tub. Fear shot through me as Edith’s arms plunged beneath the surface, her expression stony.
I clutched Talathia closer, her dragon’s lips peeling into a snarl.
“Hush,” I muttered, taking soggy steps toward Nienna. The babe grunted, wiggling against me, opposing the distance between her and her beast.
“Dragons above!” Nienna groaned, head thrown, face twisted in pain.
“What is it?” I demanded.
Healers clustered, a midwife slipping hands between Nienna’s legs. Edith’s gaze met hers, shock flickering across their faces.
“Push!” they said in unison.
Nienna obeyed, fingers gripping the tub’s edge, teeth bared, groaning. Was it afterbirth? Internal bleeding? Gods, was something wrong? Women died in childbirth too easily. The water ran deep red…
Had I gained an heir only to lose my wife?
Talathia kicked, nuzzling my chest, mouth open and searching. I cradled her as I’d seen nursemaids do, knees bouncing instinctively, horror twisting my throat. I stepped back, letting healers take control, keeping king and heir aside.
Elohios, please—please don’t take her.
Nienna gasped, falling limp. Edith yanked a bundle from below the surface.
Another babe.
Breath snagged in my chest, disbelief choking my throat.
The women’s voices rose in celebration as Nienna’s maid checked the second girl. Talathia and I were forgotten for a moment as the infant was placed on my wife’s chest.
Eyes still closed, exhausted, forehead sheened with sweat, she clutched the child as she steadied her heaving breaths.
Two. I had two heirs—two girls.
I glanced at the window, expecting another rogue dragon to drop from the sky, demanding my second-born. Stars winked back, playful, twinkling with mirth like the eyes of a god.