Chapter Eleven #2
Blood drained from my face as bile crept up my throat. When Father waved his hand, Haldor jerked Kallias back. The heavy mantle slid from his shoulder, hanging askew.
But those cornflower eyes still found mine.
Tears slipped free. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t reach him. One word and Father would strike him down. I’d hate him forever if he did. Perhaps he knew.
Haldor led Kallias into the crowd. Draconis parted, cold and disdainful. Some spat. Others looked away.
To them, he was a villain.
They didn’t know the truth—that I loved him—or what a monster Tallon had been.
And I could never tell them.
This was my story.
And it was broken. A tragedy.
Freya yanked me back. I wanted nothing more than to collapse. Cry until my bones rattled. I could live with a shattered heart. But I would never forgive my father for what he did—for killing him in cold blood. Magic or not, I couldn’t excuse that.
But I was nowhere near finished. I wasn’t ready to quit.
I caught Freya’s hand, then swiped my tears before dragging her into the tunnel.
“Give me your clothes.”
She tried to pull free, but I held tight. “Why?” Her voice sharpened. “What are you planning?”
“Father will have barred me from the dungeons.”
She groaned, “Your mother told me to keep you from doing anything reckless!”
“You stopped me from speaking, did you not?” I snapped, tugging her into the main corridor. “Now, as your princess, I command you—hand them over.”
We burst into my rooms. I reached behind me and began yanking at the fastenings of my dress.
“And I’ll be tossed in beside your darling king if we get caught!”
“Then we’d better not be caught,” I shot back. “Now move!”
It didn’t take long to exchange clothes. Freya’s garments were plain enough to help me pass as a servant. Her hair, a vibrant red, would draw attention, but mine vanished beneath a worn hooded cape. I ducked into the hall, keeping my gaze low and my face hidden.
The dungeon lay below the Spire’s main level. A long descent. I moved fast, my thoughts racing faster.
Would I need to drug him? Could Greaves smuggle him out? Every possibility collapsed under the significance of what I didn’t know.
People clogged the path. Civilians wandered about in stunned clumps, their shock a shield as I slipped through unnoticed.
The stench hit hard. Damp and dank. Stale and musty.
Heavy air pressed close, the reek of mildew clinging to my throat.
It seeped into my skin, clung to my breath.
Nothing like the rest of Draconia—where sunlight and wind kept the rot at bay.
Mage lights flickered, barely more than a glow, swallowed by the dark.
The cells, carved from solid rock and braced by slabs of iron, lined the walls. I veered off the main path, keeping to a narrow trail that curved behind the guard station. Few guards lingered—Vessels didn’t need numbers. Their magic was enough to keep the worst prisoners caged with a look.
We’d never had a high-profile prisoner such as a king—and I was lucky to slip into the dark corridors before they brought in more reinforcements.
Cold gnawed at my skin, sank into my ribs and curled along my spine. A tremor rippled through me, but I didn’t stop. Kallias needed sunshine—everything in Radaan revolved around it. It was seen as a blessing from his god, and Father threw him in a cave.
Voices sharpened near a bend. I lowered the mage light and tucked it at the base of the wall, casting the corridor in a soft, silvery pulse. This side stood empty. Of course it did—Father wouldn’t risk Kallias talking to anyone.
“You were foolish.”
My mother’s voice. Quiet but cutting, almost lost beneath the thunder in my ears.
“Perhaps.” Kallias sounded flat. Tired.
“We denied you safe harbor, and still you came. You have doomed yourself—and if what Nienna claims is true, you’ve cursed your lands to be ruled by a child.”
“Radaan appreciates your concern.” His tone shifted into the one he reserved for foreign courts—measured, composed, not quite warm. “However, I left my kingdom in capable hands.”
Silence followed, broken only by her sigh. I pressed my back to the cold stone and shut my eyes.
“Why did you come?”
“I told King Nereus–”
“What he wanted to hear.” She cut him off. “I’m not asking as queen, but as Nienna’s mother. Why are you here? You knew you’d find no kindness on these shores—you’re lucky Argos didn’t eat you alive. Haven’t you broken her enough?”
I clenched my jaw and folded my arms tight. They always blamed others for my wounds. Never saw the way they tore me apart from inside.
“Queen Nyxaria,” Kallias said, the tortured soul mirroring my own slipping through. “I came to make it right.”
I heard him then. The man I knew.
Silence answered. Thick. Strained.
Far off, something skittered. My eyes flew open—please, no rats.
“Nereus will never grant you mercy.”
“Which is why I’ve asked for a private audience.”
“If you met him alone, he’d gut you before you spoke.” Her voice dropped. “You tampered with forces you don’t understand. And because of that, you’ve dragged our people into your mess. You will answer for that.”
“Do you not fear you’re reacting to a half-truth?” Kallias bit out.
“You shattered our trust when you took our daughter—someone else’s betrothed.”
“I never took her!” Steel clanged. Bootsteps followed. “Excuse my bluntness, but I never bedded her—ask her; she’ll say the same.”
“If I may be bold enough to match your tone, it doesn’t matter,” Mother hissed. “My son found her sprawled across your desk, half-dressed and face marred with passion. Perhaps you didn’t bed her then, but there’s nothing to show you’ve had a shred of restraint before.”
Someone blew out a resigned breath.
“You brought this upon yourself, Kallias Sunspear. You stole my daughter and left behind a ghost. She’s a shell now, hollowed out by what you did. She’ll never come back from this, and you’ve ensured the last thing she sees is your death. May your soul never find peace.”
I winced. If any of what they believed had actually happened, they would be within their rights. My heart broke at how protective my mother was, but she was resigning him to his execution over what they thought was true.
No one spoke. Footsteps faded into the dark. I waited, unwilling to breathe until they passed.
Once the silence returned, I rose and crept around the corner.
Empty. The mage lights flickered dimly, their glow barely enough to show where the cells began. I drew in a quiet breath and moved forward, heart hammering as I scanned for extra guards.
Movement caught my eye at the first cell, and I paused.
Greaves sat on a cot, elbows balanced on his knees, fingers laced tight. His warm brown stare assessed me before he dipped his head in silent greeting, then motioned toward the next cell. He rested his chin on his hands, eyes falling to the floor. Lost.
My chest ached as I passed. I never expected to see Kallias again—let alone here. I wanted him higher. On my floor. Not buried down here.
I stopped.
He sat hunched on the edge of the cot, fingers tangled in his hair. His mantle lay on the far corner of the mattress, the cleanest patch he could find. He raised his head as I approached, and something inside me split.
Blood crusted along his cheekbone. His eyes—drained. Hollow. His expression mirrored my very soul.
Tears blurred my vision. I offered a smile, one I’d practiced a hundred times. It trembled, then gave way. “Greetings, King Sunspear.”
His brows pulled low. Hurt etched into the space between them. He braced his hands on his knees and pushed himself upright, gaze darting behind me to the dark hall.
“It’s just me,” I choked out, hating the steel bars between us.
“Just you.” He exhaled, a trace of tension bleeding from his shoulders. This was my Kallias.
“I’m so sorry.” The words rasped through the tight knot in my lungs. I reached for his face. “I should have warned you—I should have–”
“Nienna.” His palm pressed mine to his cheek. “You are Draconis. I knew.”
I slid my hand behind his head, threading my fingers through the short strands and drawing him to me. My lips, salted with tears, found his—bloodied and warm.
He kissed softly, carefully, as if testing the shape of our grief. I smiled against him, rage blooming within, directed at the barrier caging him from me. Heat clung to his skin as if he were sunlight trapped beneath stone. Cinnamon lingered on his breath, sweet and bitter like memory.
My chest ached, the pull to him tearing at my bones. He was safe. He was home. Nothing could rival this. I had tasted the King of Radaan and would settle for no other.
He broke away first, resting his brow against the iron. His gaze searched mine. “Do you kiss all the prisoners?”
“Only the ones who belong to me.”
He scoffed, soft lines deepening around his eyes. I had been right. Silver had thickened along his temples and threaded through stubble framing his jaw.
“You shouldn’t be here.” The words gutted me, tore out my soul.
“Lie.” He rubbed his chin and leaned back. “I should have come long ago. I’m late.”
“Why now? You knew they’d never accept you. Not after Ronan.” Fresh tears slipped down my cheeks, and I let them fall, allowed the anger to scald through the hollows of my ribs like armor.
“I came to ask for your hand. To atone. To right my wrongs.”
“Our wrongs.”
“The blame rests on my shoulders. Nereus made that clear.”
“He doesn’t know!” I slammed my palm against the bars. “No one will listen!”
“Our reputations are destroyed.” He exhaled a sharp breath, bracing himself against the wall. “They trusted us, and I shattered that. I deserve their fury.”
Droplets flung from my lashes as I shook my head. “I left to save you—and you threw that away.”
“To save me, or Radaan? I gave my life to that kingdom. Never once took something for myself.” He stepped forward, hand reaching through the bars. “I’m a monster. Selfish. I’ve tasted joy—held it in my hands—and I crave it. Nienna, I need you. I love you.”
His fingers curled around the nape of my neck, tugging me close.
“You can’t,” I whispered. Not now. Not after everything.
His grip tightened as he tipped my chin, gaze unwavering. “You don’t get to tell me who I love, Nienna. You don’t get to tell me who to pursue.”
The confession echoed mine from what felt like an eternity ago.
No, the heart loved who it loved. Sometimes it chose the wrong person, and sometimes it found the other half—but at the wrong time.
“I came for you.”
“This will destroy me.” My voice cracked. Tears spilled over his hand. “When you draw blades, which death do I celebrate? If you strike him down, Argos will rain fire—you’ll be lost to me either way.”
“Such faith in your dragons,” he said, mouth lifting in a crooked smile. “Yet none for my gods.”
“I’ve never seen them.”
I tried to lower my gaze, but he caught my chin with his thumb, lifting me back to him.
“They brought me to you after the mammoth. You bartered with Veridis. I’m breathing because you refused to let go. Exercise your faith, Nienna.”
I closed my eyes. Pain tore through me like splitting bark. He wouldn’t run. Even if I opened the cell and led him to the sea, he’d stay. Too stubborn. Too righteous.
His lips brushed mine again, light as breath against the iron. I slid my hands through the bars, fists closing around the front of his coat. I pulled him closer. He grunted, and I traced my fingers up the back of his neck, deepening the kiss.
I poured everything into it—ache, hunger, the fear I’d never feel him again. With every ounce of my racing heart, I offered him my pain, my fury, my love. I begged without words.
He gave me the lead. Allowed me to take, to be the aggressor. He always did, bearing every burden life dealt him.
And I hated it.
I broke away, breath ragged, searching his eyes. “I need you to fight for me.”
“That’s why I’m here,” he murmured.
“You can’t let him win.”
His jaw clenched. He winced, then nodded, slow and certain. He had seen it too. My father’s blade. My love in its path. I didn’t want to lose either of them—but I couldn’t sit back and watch Kallias die.
“I will fight for you,” he said, “my Dragon’s Heart.”