I wanted to send the maid out. Her presence stole a moment that should’ve been mine—skin, dress, hands.
“But she’s allowing me to take the reins,” Nienna continued. “She’s managed the trade for years. I’ve never been involved. But with Radaan now on the table, she’s letting me handle it.”
“It’ll benefit Radaan. I’ll put Claydon in charge of assigning tasks. He’ll find use for them.”
She snorted a laugh. “Like feeding the goats?”
“That or building them new stables in the Andeluith,” I added, unfastening my vest.
“The hardest part is choosing.” She sighed. “They have the right to refuse, but if I do this well, there won’t be any delays.”
“They don’t have to leave with us,” I said, catching Freya’s figure from the corner of my eye. “The Radaanian ship can follow.”
“Yes, but the more Vessels I arrive with, the sooner Radaan will see my value.”
I folded my arms. The worry in her voice struck a chord. She feared they wouldn’t accept her. A valid concern, considering our circumstances. But Radaan was mine—I knew its gods, its court, its people. Their faith in me might have been shaken, but I had to believe I’ve proved myself worthy of their trust.
Fallione had questioned this path—my coming here—not that I was willing to be swayed. We relied on Elohios’ favor of honesty. What happened in the Golden Palace was a mistake. But I was being honest with myself and my people by going after Nienna.
And she worried how they would view her.
“You’re dismissed, Freya,” I said.
She startled, bowed, and slipped out. Greaves followed without being asked, sensing he’d outstayed his welcome.
“Kallias.” Nienna looked over her shoulder. “Now who’s going to help me with my boots?”
I prowled across the room, snatching both boots in one hand. She turned, fists propped on her hips as I closed the space between us. My body herded her backward until her knees knocked against a plush chair, and she fell into it, laughing.
“I think I can manage,” I said, sinking to my knees.
Her dainty feet were soft, wrapped in sheer stockings. I curled a hand around her calf, smoothing the fabric of her trousers as I drew it down. “Do you doubt your value to my people?”
She scowled and let her head fall back, eyes to the ceiling. “Not my value—I fear they’ll see me as…” she wiggled her toes as she struggled to find the right word, “tainted.”
I hummed and slid the boot up her foot, tugging the laces tight. “Tainted by whom?”
“Myself,” she laughed. “I seduced you, remember?”
“And yet, in Radaan—and Draconia, from what I’ve seen—people tend to lay the blame on me.” I tied the lace, tucking it clean. “Which is where it belongs. They’ll be slow to accept you, yes. But my reputation took the hit.”
She leaned forward, placed her bare foot in my lap.
In my mind’s eye, a different boot—high-heeled, sharp—slammed into my chest.
I blinked the vision away, gripping her ankle harder than necessary to steady myself.
“You think they’ll forgive me for trading my betrothed for his father? That they will accept a queen who was found splayed on their king’s desk?”
I hooked a hand behind her knee, dragging her closer. “It’s bound to happen again,” I said, the words a promise.
She laughed and surrendered to my pull, letting herself fall into me. I kissed her with care, corralling the hungry beast inside me. She needed reassurance, not to be devoured.
That would come later.
Chapter Thirty-One
Kallias
