I turned to my future bride. She was orchestrating something. Her gaze darted from Ronan back to me.
He was key.
His scowl deepened, but he didn’t argue. Just slumped in his seat, staring at nothing. She wanted him to escort her, like before. But why?
For safety? She would already have dragons in tow.
Then it clicked.
His dragon.
“On the condition Gyrak is harnessed,” I said, the pressure in my skull easing. If that beast pulled our ship, we’d cut the journey from weeks to days. Time reclaimed.
Ronan groaned, burying his face in his hand. Nereus leaned back, watching me with quiet calculation. Nienna ducked her head, barely hiding a satisfied smile.
This was her plan. Every step laid for me. Pride swelled, hot in my chest. Despite the ache in my body, something settled in me.
This—this was what it meant to have a true partner. Not just a queen, but a co-ruler. She wasn’t dead weight. She cleared paths.
“It would shorten your travel time considerably,” Nereus murmured, fingers dragging through his beard. “You’ll remain here until the month concludes. Then return by sea—Gyrak in harness.”
“The riot of five will launch four days after our departure,” I added. “I won’t have dragons descending on my people without my presence.”
“Done.”
The negotiations rolled on. My headache clung to the edges of thought, and I let Fallione steer the rest, stepping in only when necessary.
When it ended, I gave the formal parting expected of a king—then walked straight to my rooms.
My boots hit the wall with dull thuds, kicked off with more determination than coordination. After removing my mantle, the bed took me withoutprotest, swallowing my aching limbs. The mattress gave a soft creak as I sank, spine throbbing, shoulders locked, my mind still spinning from the meeting.
Greaves muttered something low to Fallione near the door. I didn’t catch the words, didn’t care to. Every sound grated. Even the rustle of fabric felt like teeth against stone.
My skull throbbed—tight pressure building with nowhere left to go. Muscles coiled across my back, too many nights tense, too little sleep.
I closed my eyes.
Darkness rushed in, thick and immediate.
The seat beneath me offered no escape. Plush and yielding, but I couldn’t sink far enough to disappear. Not from her.
She perched beside me at the dining table, poisoning every word that left my mouth with her spite. Across from me, Claydon stood tall, expression raw, pleading for reinforcements at the foothills. His people required protection. I needed to give it.
“I will come to your aid,” I said, trying to rise—but my feet refused. Something rooted me to the floor. My own body turned traitor.
“Always to someone’s rescue, Kallias. You’re a king. Send your soldiers. Truly, you behave like a peasant.”
The knife in my hand gleamed beneath the chandelier. I stared at it, wishing I could simply thrash it to the side and be done with her. “I am the king—I will help my people.”
“Helping them would’ve meant avoiding war,” she said, her fingers curling around my sleeve. Red nails pierced my green overcoat, crimson on leaves. “You refused to cross the mountains. You wouldn’t concede the Craggs. A true king would have known when to yield.”
My shoulder twitched. I tried to shake her off. My body stayed still, nerves dead to command.
“Silence.”
“That’s what you want from me? One of us has to speak the truth.”
She shoved my chair back. I lurched, trying to break free, but Claydon blurred, replaced by Gayle. Then Darius. Then Fallione. My entire court assembled before me. Blank-eyed. Silent. Watching.
