Chapter Eleven
Nienna
Ronan’s hand snagged the back of my dress, but I jerked free, slipping down Gyrak’s shoulder before his claws touched stone.
“Nienna, stop!”
As if I ever obeyed my brother.
Gyrak’s talons struck the landing with a thunderous crack. I hit the ground beside him, stumbled, snatched up my skirts and bolted for the throne room.
Kallias was here.
He came for me.
But instead of joy, terror sprouted in its place. Here, in this cursed stronghold, Father would kill him. I’d already begged, pleaded—he chose Ronan’s lies instead. Kallias would only stoke that fury, incite his rage, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
The vast sea protected him. My lie about the blood oath, flimsy as it was, had kept him hidden. Distance had dulled Father’s wrath—but now?
He was here.
I tore across the wide space, feet slapping the marble, heart in my throat. Empty corridors blurred past. Servants scattered from my path, eyes wide, but I didn’t stop. No time to offer apologies.
Father would treat him as a traitor.
A man who defiled his daughter and mocked a sacred oath. Perhaps I could plead madness on his behalf. What sane person dared defy a promise backed by dragonfire? Maybe I could twist the truth before the judgment fell.
I threw open a door. Four noblewomen shrieked, bolts of silk fluttering as they rose. Mother’s gaze snapped to mine, sharp and assessing. Her pale brows dipped, and I opened my mouth too late.
“We will discuss the festival later, ladies.” Her tone sliced clean as a blade. She stood and rushed toward me, her dress twisting around her like wind-driven sails, features set into a hard mask.
I swallowed whatever I meant to say. The women of K’seer didn’t need Kallias’ name whispered in their halls.
It was delaying the inevitable.
Mother swept past, already striding down the corridor. I had to jog to catch up.
“Where is he?” she hissed as I matched her pace.
Somehow, she knew. Dread curled deep in my belly.
“Father’s bringing him for trial.” I panted, pressing a fist over my hammering heart.
She stopped cold and pressed her eyes shut, tension rippling off her like waves crashing against stone.
“He came here to die.” Her whisper splintered something inside me.
Tears burned, demanding release. My breath shuddered. If she didn’t see a way out—there wasn’t one. She knew Father’s mind better than anyone. His flaws. His oaths. The cracks in his logic. She might have shielded me before, but not now. Not with a king’s life at stake.
No.
I wouldn’t accept that. He came for me. He crossed the sea, knowing the cost—and still, he came.
I lifted my chin, spine rigid. “I can’t let that happen.”
Mother yanked me into a spare chamber and slammed the door. Dust-veiled sheets cloaked the furniture. A single shaft of sunlight pierced the gloom.
She faced the window, voice cold. “Remember your place.”
Her words struck like a slap. Ice spread in my veins.
“Your father warned him not to come,” she said.
“Maybe he brought Edith!” My arms wrapped around my ribs, nails digging deep.
“You don’t understand.” She turned, pain carved into the lines of her face.
“Your father signed a blood oath. So did Kallias Sunspear. They agreed—you were to be given to Tallon of Radaan. No man would touch you. The king vowed to protect you, to present you to his son. Kallias broke that bond. There’s no twisting it. He took what was promised.”
“We never—nothing happened!”
“Ronan says otherwise. And his presence here proves it.”
“Does it?” I snapped, fury flaring hot enough to scorch away fear. “He came because he’s honorable. He cannot let a lie stand. Elohios wouldn’t bless a liar.”
“And this god blesses him for defiling the future bride of his son?” Her voice struck like a whip.
“His honesty means nothing now.” She shook her head, the sunlight catching the silver threading her hair.
“He broke an oath signed in blood. Our oaths are not empty vows—they bind life and magic. The power in your father’s soul has gnawed at him for weeks, demanding retribution.
The lie you told—the one you thought protected him—only delayed the eruption. ”
I flinched, shame burning across my cheeks. “You don’t know I lied.”
Her glare hardened. “Your father is a Well. You think he didn’t feel your deception?
Magic ancient as the bones of this kingdom flows through him.
The only thing that stopped him from burning Radaan to the ground was his love for you.
That restraint will vanish the moment Kallias stands before him. ”
She paused. “A dove arrived days ago. Kallias begged for safe harbor. We denied him, and Nereus gave fair warning that if they set foot on our shores, they’d be slaughtered as traitors.”
The message. The one I thought came from the Innaku—it had been his.
My throat closed tight.
Father wasn’t just a Vessel. He was an abyss. A Well with no bottom. His power built over years, calm on the surface—but beneath, a molten fury.
And I was the exact opposite. I couldn’t hold magic in. It seared through me and left nothing behind.
There were tales of my father holding off an entire whirlstorm, shielding Draconia in his youth—and his skill had only deepened with age. If the magic tied to the oath was unraveling, fraying his control and demanding release, it was a volcano sealed by will alone.
“There has to be something—a way around this.” Either that, or I’d figure out how to smuggle him off the island. I wouldn’t let my father be his executioner.
Mother pressed her lips together and shook her head. Her hand settled on my arm. “The only thing you can give him now is comfort in his final days.”
I jerked away, vision blurred. I spun and tore down the corridor, cutting through hidden passageways wedged between walls and winding above the throne room. The narrow tunnel spat me onto a stone balcony veiled in shadow.
Below, Father sat on his throne above a crowd so dense it bulged against the doors. Every soul had come to witness history’s claws sink in.
The Dragon King would kill the King of Radaan.
Kallias knelt. Haldor stood beside him, hand twisted in Kallias’ hair, forcing his head up. Rage surged inside me, coiled and sharp. I lunged toward the railing, teeth biting into my tongue to stifle the cry in my throat.
Then he looked up. Sky-blue eyes locked on mine.
My heart cracked.
That gaze—steady, unflinching—I knew it. His face had thinned, cheekbones carved sharper. Scruff shadowed his jaw, grown thicker, as if to hide the hollows in his cheeks. Silver had threaded his temples.
He would never let me steal him away.
Haldor noticed me. He yanked, forcing Kallias’ attention forward, toward the throne.
My nails scraped the stone railing, the cool grit unwavering beneath my fingertips. A distant dragon’s roar echoed the scream in my chest. Kallias was a king; he deserved more than this spectacle.
The crowd stirred. Ronan pushed through the bodies, halting beside Mikal—who restrained a seething Greaves.
The man looked ready to vomit or kill. His face burned red, muscles stretched near breaking. His gaze locked on Kallias, twitching at every movement Haldor made, as though his body trembled on the verge of violence.
He was watching his friend’s death sentence.
“I’ve come to clear your daughter’s name.” Kallias’ voice rang out, thin but unshaken. The words echoed through the hall. Father let silence steep before answering.
Mine. Not his.
Father’s fingers tapped the throne’s armrest, silver rings clacking sharp in the hush. “Nienna was deceived. Manipulated by a man twice her age.”
A palm clamped over my mouth and yanked me into the shadows. I shrieked into the grip and drove an elbow into ribs.
“Don’t!” Freya hissed in my ear, pulling back her hand. “You’ll only make it worse!”
“It’s a lie!” I snarled, twisting to reach the rail again.
“And shouting it now fixes everything?” Her arms locked around me. “You wait. You watch. Think like the royal you are.”
I bared my teeth and shoved free, lunging toward the edge.
“My daughter needs no forgiveness,” Father said. “The monster who defiled her is the criminal—and will pay.”
“I offer my life—”
No.
Tsunami screamed past the landing, wings slicing the air, her cry shattering the sky.
“—I ask for Nienna’s hand in marriage.”
King Nereus exploded from the throne with a roar, a blur down the steps. He seized Kallias’ coat, dragging him upright. Greaves lunged, Ronan and Mikal barely holding him back.
“You dare,” Father growled, almost lost beneath Argos’ thunderous shift. The dragon stretched its neck, sparks smoldering between its fangs. “Dare ask for my daughter—after swearing her to your son?”
Kallias, taller by a hair, met his fury with that same unshaken stare.
“I ask for her hand.”
Father’s fist snapped forward, crashing into Kallias’ face. “You swore a blood oath and broke it! Your life is forfeit—you’ve lost the right to request anything, least of all her!”
Freya grabbed my arm as I flinched.
Kallias’ head whipped back from the strike, magic trailing the blow.
He steadied himself, rolled his neck, lifted his chin.
Blood traced a slow path from his nose. “I offer a new oath. Grain for your people. Trade with the continent. A stronger alliance—and a vow to make your daughter happy.” His voice rose, addressing the crowd. They needed to hear.
“You don’t speak of her happiness,” Father spat, releasing his coat with a shove. “Not after twisting her into ruin.”
Kallias staggered back, boots scuffing stone. He looked up—straight into Argos’ gaping maw.
“Kallias Sunspear, king who doomed his nation, you do not deserve a quick execution by dragonfire.”
My stomach knotted. I leaned over the rail as if I could listen to my father’s thoughts.
“I challenge you to a duel to the death. May you have one final chance at honor.”