“Princess,” he turned to Amerei again, his dark eyes brightening.
“My son and daughters, born of the line that once ruled the sea.”
Amerei inclined her head, smiling with practiced grace.
With a flick of his hand, Xavien sent the children off with their nurses, then turned to Storne. “Who joins you, Masten?”
“This is High-Captain Viktor Seraphim, Captain Gabriel Feindoran, and Lieutenant Evander Tassen.”
Xavien’s mouth curved.
“Tassen… blood of Raif?”
“His son,” Storne confirmed.
Xavien laughed, low and knowing.
“I named my favorite son for him.”
His glance cut to Amerei with a wink before sliding elsewhere.
“Cousin,” he called to Gabriel. “A captain now?”
“One of my finest,” Storne said.
Xavien’s eyes lingered on Viktor last, raking slow.
Silence stretched until he murmured, “A human High-Captain. I was not made aware.”
“He is Eillish, Your Highness,” Storne answered. “Human, yes—but son of Elváliev.”
Xavien stepped closer.
Amerei’s breath seized as he prowled toward Viktor, voice dripping with amusement.
“Viktor Seraphim…
Vael’tharyn elan’ dor.”
(He who binds the breath of sky.)
Viktor didn’t move.
“Sael inar.”
(I am.)
Xavien’s smile curved, slow as a blade being drawn.
“Show me.”
Amerei glanced at Viktor over her shoulder, praying he’d meet her eyes.
He didn’t.
His stare stayed locked on Xavien, jaw set, every muscle coiled.
“East. West. North. South.”
