Chapter 19 #2
They parted like a field of wheat beneath storm winds—retreating into doorways, pressing against walls. Greetings came, along with shallow bows, some more shallow than others.
Radaan had pride, but Draconia wielded it as a sword. To them, I had stained their princess—sent her away, only to return when it suited me.
And that was the nicest theory.
Nienna stopped before a colorful door, and Freya swept it open, ushering us into a room soaked in light.
Kites hung overhead and lined the walls—bursts of color and craft suspended in midair.
Magical lights glowed along the ceiling, bathing the display in radiance.
Every kite demanded attention. They were a myriad of colors and styles, vibrant as wild banners, strung with a precision fashioned by expertise.
An older man rose from behind a counter, smiling wide as he spotted Nienna—only for it to flicker when he noticed me.
Gods, I hated that.
The judgment landed fast, deep, and silent. Still, I’d endure it for the way he lit up at the sight of her.
“Princess!” he called, his graying braid slipping forward as he dipped into a bow.
A younger man stood nearby, arms folded tight, eyes sharp and angry as they darted between us. Greaves shifted closer. I met the youth’s glare with my own, cold and steady.
She beamed. “Williard, how are you?”
The younger one didn’t move. No show of respect. No greeting. Just that unblinking gaze, thick with accusation.
“As well as these old bones allow,” Williard replied, still smiling. “And who might this be?”
I considered looking away from the insolent boy, but chose not to. His tanned skin crinkled as his nose twitched into a snarl.
“Is it customary for apprentices to ignore their royalty?” I asked, chin lifted.
Something in his stance tightened my gut. I wanted to put myself between him and Nienna, shield her from whatever venom stirred behind his eyes.
Freya sucked in a breath as Nienna faced the dark-haired man.
Her silence bristled. I could almost hear the decision forming. Should she demand obedience? Or let it slide? I had already issued the challenge. Would she support it or allow him grace?
And was it worth it?
“Kai?” Her shoulders squared. Voice low, steady.
That’s my queen. Don’t let them walk on you.
His eyes snapped from me to her. My jaw clenched as his anger shifted with them—no softer, no kinder.
“You may see yourself out,” she said. Flat. Final. “I’ll make sure Mikal hears of your reluctance to show respect.”
He staggered, face twisting, trying to mask the snarl beneath something polite. It didn’t work. He gave the weakest excuse for a bow, then stormed out past the counter, slamming the door behind him.
Nienna exhaled, breath long and tired, the tension folding out of her spine, deflating. “Williard, this is King Kallias Sunspear of Radaan.”
The older man’s eyes, clouded with age, still held a glint of cautious disapproval. “Greetings, Your Majesty.”
“Well met.” I inclined my head, letting my focus wander to the walls. The room exploded with color, a splattering of rainbow, but as I neared one kite, I noticed the stretched material wasn’t fabric at all, but hide.
Of course. Linen and cotton would be harder to source. They wouldn’t waste precious fabric on what might be considered trivial toys.
“Please tell me you’re not letting Kai make the grand finale kite,” Nienna groaned, collapsing onto a bench.
“He needs the experience,” Williard replied, easing himself beside her. Paint stained his worn tunic, leaving him as vibrant as the room. “I cannot craft kites for the rest of my days.”
“Just this year. Only one more.”
It amused me how easily she shifted from royalty to a beloved child. It was obvious she adored the man. There was history between them—and she leaned on that to coax his favor.
“And next?”
She laughed. “I won’t be here to nag you about it.”
My jaw tensed. Yes, I was taking her to Radaan—but hearing her tell someone she loved that she was leaving twisted something sharp inside.
“Is it true then? Radaan’s king has come to take our princess?” Williard’s question brought my attention back. His tone stayed even, but his eyes searched mine with the kind of wariness only age could perfect.
There it was. Jealousy tingled along my spine. He had every right to her. She belonged to this land, its people. And I was simply the king who wanted an alliance.
“I’ve come to unite Radaan and Draconia—through Nienna’s hand in marriage.” I didn’t owe him an explanation, but she trusted him. That was enough.
“To you?”
Whatever answer he preferred, I’d give the truth. “I’m asking to make her queen.” I paused. “My queen.”
He sat back, expression unreadable. Nienna kept silent, fingers folded in her lap.
“Honorable of you,” he murmured.
“Dragon King Nereus would let her go to nothing less,” I said, reminding him that I’d earned the right—through fire, steel, and a ruler’s scrutiny. I was a far cry from the monster he believed me to be.
He leaned on his cane, thumb tapping the wood. “I don’t recall the King of Radaan joining us in celebration before. This is your first?”
“Yes. I’m eager to see it.” I motioned to the surrounding kites. “These are works of art. Have they all flown?”
“Most.” He rose, shuffling past. “They’re sacred to us. They bind sea and sky, giving the common folk a taste of flight. We can’t all be riders, after all.”
I approached a kite shaped like a seal, flicked the hard spine holding it rigid. “Bone?”
“Fish mostly. Bird bones when we’re lucky. Trees are too scarce here.”
“I noticed,” I said. “And hides instead of cloth. Your bodies are bound to the earth, but your hearts belong to the skies.”
His gaze flicked back. “If Princess Nienna asks me to make a kite for you, I will. But she must ask.”
So that was it. He thought I pressured her, that I won her by force or trickery, took advantage of her and only wanted to clear my name.
My face fell blank, refusing to show that I’d caught onto his game.
“You would let him fly it? The finale?” Nienna’s breathless tone hinted at significance. Perhaps something symbolic.
Here I was, signing up for yet another thing I knew nothing about.
Reckless fool.
“Only if you want it,” he said, matching my stare. “You’ve flown a kite before, dear king?”
It was ridiculous, but I had never.
“I can manage,” I answered, tone flat.
Nienna practically bounced on her heels. “It would mean so much to the people, and before negotiations, it would symbolize peace between our nations.”
He grunted, finally looking her way. “Then for you, I will make one last kite.”