Page 7 of Between Flames and Deceit (Dragon’s Heart Duology #1)

Chapter Six

Nienna

T he evening meal was torture—a slow bleed of patience and pride. I’d come to terms with marriage, even a loveless one, but nothing prepared me to be so blatantly ignored.

Tallon greeted me at the stairs with a charming smile, one that promised so much but delivered nothing. He led me to sit at his right, placing himself between me and the king. After that, he proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the evening, summoning nobles from the main floor to engage in idle banter, leaving me isolated. Every polite question I ventured met either a dismissive shrug or a smirk that chipped away at my resolve.

I stabbed my fork into my untouched dessert, a delicate piece of pie dusted with sugar and brimming with warm apples. The rich scent was heavenly, but my appetite soured under the weight of my irritation. I nudged it around my plate, lifting small bites to keep up appearances.

Tallon’s voice rose over the din, smooth and melodic, lacking his father’s thunderous command. Though a prince nearing manhood, he sounded like the young nobles at Draconia, all jest and bravado with little substance. Only a year younger than me, he held an entire kingdom in his hands; shouldn’t that burden have molded him into something more substantial?

“You can ride out tomorrow to see them!” A noble, all grins and eagerness, blurted, his brown hair unruly.

“I’d love that!” Tallon leaned back, teeth flashing in a broad smile. “Send for me at the tenth hour.”

I waited, poised, yet invisible .

“Perfect! Father will be pleased!”

I waited still.

The prince laughed, his attention unwavering. “The palace could always use more hounds. You can never have too many.”

“A breed of retriever from Draconia excels at hunts,” I interjected, my voice steady as I met the noble’s surprised stare.

Tallon twisted toward me, his polite smile fixed, but the warmth in his emerald gaze chilled into guarded stone.

I forged on. “They brave rough waters to catch rock gulls. I would love to see–”

“I’m sure you’d prefer to spend your time picking through gems or fine clothes over muddy hounds, Princess.”

The rebuke struck, sharp and unyielding, but I held my expression—a practiced mask of serenity—as the sting settled into silence. Tallon watched, eyes searching, a slight twitch at his lips.

A smile. Not a sneer. It had to be.

“On the contrary, I would love to see them.” My tone remained even. I would not yield.

“Kaden, when is feeding time?” His gaze pinned mine, unwavering, his challenge unspoken yet clear. Two royals locked in a battle of smiles and silence, testing boundaries in a hall full of masks.

What a finely spun farce.

“At the seventh hour Your High–”

“Make sure they’re fed something live. I’ll be there to watch.” Tallon’s sneer lifted his nose, barely concealing a snarl. “Off with you.”

My smile slipped, unwilling to humor his rude dismissal of the noble any longer.

“There will be bloodshed, Princess.” His voice dropped as Kaden’lon bowed and hurried down the stairs. “Best you stay here—it wouldn’t do to have you faint in front of the commoners.”

“I was raised among dragons, dear Prince. A bit of blood doesn’t faze me,” I replied, sweetness threading through each word, though the effort strained my patience. “And those of Lon descent are hardly commoners.”

If he was going to take public jabs with his words, I would hand them right back. His head tilted, amusement flickering in his eyes, but I saw the edge in his smirk. Forcing a smile, I fought the ache in my cheeks as he met my defiance with a scoff, shrugging a shoulder.

“So be it.” He turned to the hall, leaning over his plate. His overcoat dipped into his dessert as he beckoned to another nobleman.

My shoulders slumped a fraction, and I took a deep breath to steady myself. When I lifted my gaze, I caught King Kallias’ eyes— clear blue like Draconia’s skies, and just as piercing. His stare weighed on me, and warmth crept over my face, unmasking my irritation and anger toward his son. His brows remained drawn in contemplation, a muscle working in his jaw. When his attention shifted to Tallon, he released me from his scrutiny. I glanced back down, nudging a piece of apple that had slipped free from my pie, counting each passing minute until I could escape this charade.

Edith stayed in my rooms that night. When dawn broke, Scythe roused herself to help ready me in the soft gray light. She handed me a slice of fresh bread, its crust still warm, smeared with a thick spread of berry-red jam. The tang paired well with the smooth bitterness of the black tea I sipped, its faint steam curling into the cool air as Edith’s hands moved in deft twists, braiding my hair with gentle, practiced tugs.

Today, I’d don a gown to retain my femininity—but not without a reminder for Tallon. If he wanted me to watch hounds rip apart prey, he’d see me as I was—a descendant from Dragon Riders.

When Edith retired, Scythe helped me dress in a pair of thin dark breeches beneath a gown crafted like a masterful painting. Deep sapphire hugged my chest and gave way to swirls of burgundy that ended in crimson spilling over my black boots.

“As if you would shy from a little blood.” Scythe snickered, her words laced with a smirk as she fastened a ruby necklace around my throat.

“If only Tallon could see Argos feed,” I scoffed.

My father’s dragon sired a brood each year, and he raised them until they could hunt on their own. Every feeding, he brought in a mid-sized whale, tearing it apart until bloody entrails scattered the ground—a gory feast for his dragonlings. Their hunger blurred any distinction between friend and foe. I’d seen it firsthand because Dragon Queen Kalepsi named me Dragon’s Heart the day I was born, a bond that marked me for life.

Scythe sighed, eyes gleaming with a dreamlike hue. “I imagine Tallon would have a change of tune if he were slapped with a bloody organ or two.”

I laughed, tossing my braid over my shoulder as I spun to see my reflection. The colors, the dark strength of the outfit—it was perfect.

Without waiting to be summoned, I headed to the door. It was half past the sixth hour, and I didn’t trust His Highness to remember to call for me. When I entered the hall, the guards snapped to attention, one turning my way.

“Take me to Prince Tallon,” I said with a soft smile .

I tried to glimpse his eyes behind the narrow visor, but he was cast in darkness. With a curt nod, he pivoted, metal armor clinking, and started down the corridor. I followed in silence, pressing my lips together. I needed to talk to King Kallias about these guards—soon, they’d feel like shackles.

Early morning quietness hung in the air as I walked. Shafts of pale sunlight stretched across the halls, illuminating paintings, plants, and carved relics that I mentally mapped as we passed. Here and there, staff moved with swift determination, bowing or curtsying as we went by. The nobles, of course, still slept.

The guard led us out into the already warm air of the courtyard.

I knew it.

A gathering of horses filled the space, all flanked by guards. Among them stood a striking black steed adorned with scarlet tack, its coat gleaming in the sunlight. Birds darted overhead, their songs cutting through the thick silence. Tallon broke from his conversation with the king, his eyes snapping to me as I dismissed my guard and crossed the courtyard. I lifted my chin, skimming their faces, my smile laced with venom I refused to hide. The prince didn’t mask his irritation either; his fists clenched tight, his frown a deep furrow.

Kallias, however, studied me with—was that approval in his gaze? His eyes swept over my split dress, pausing with a hint of scrutiny before rising back to my face. A slight tilt of his head showed curiosity.

“Princess Nienna,” Tallon hissed. He actually hissed.

I would marry him, a man I didn’t know, one who ignored me. But I’d be no man’s doormat.

Kallias’ brows snapped together, his glare fixed on his son. “Princess Nienna, bright morning.” Sunlight glinted off his mantle, scattering the rays. “What brings you out at this hour?” The king, it seemed, had mastered the art of civility.

“Prince Tallon invited me to witness Kaden’lon’s hounds at the hunt,” I replied, letting my smile sharpen as I turned to the prince. “It appears he forgot to send for me.”

“I also forgot to prepare a horse for you.” Tallon grinned. “Perhaps next time.”

“Prince Tallon.” The king straightened, his frame stiff with a glare so frigid it could cut steel. “Royalty of Radaan do not lie.”

The depth, the rage that darkened his father’s voice sent a shiver down my spine. Never lie to Kallias. I tucked that truth away.

Tallon’s eyes narrowed, his lashes lowering with an agonizing slowness as though resisting the urge to roll them.

“Then I’ll travel with a single guard,” Tallon muttered, waving a dismissive hand at the two guards waiting beside their mounts.

I glanced at the beasts, a flicker of nerves stirring within.

“After the council meeting, see to the temple,” Kallias added, his voice edged with a sharp note. His fierce gaze locked with mine, and my smile softened—whether out of gratitude or unease, I couldn’t tell. His jaw clenched, a muscle flickering beneath his skin, before he turned and strode toward a garden in full bloom, his guard trailing in silence.

Tallon released an exasperated breath. “Do you ride astride, Princess? ”

I bared my teeth in a smile laced with mock sweetness. “I ride horses as well as dragons, Prince. ”

“Always with the dragons.”

“It’s a good reminder,” I murmured. For both of us. I rode with my father and brother—in parades. To be frank, I didn’t have the same bond with horses as I did with the mighty beasts that took to the skies.

Tallon snorted, motioning to a horse. His guard knelt, offering me a foothold. The black stallion met my gaze, neck arched, nostrils flaring as it stamped a hoof. Shoving my nerves aside, I gathered my skirts and grabbed the reins as I stepped into the guard’s waiting hands, his expression one of patient indifference. As he hoisted me up, I slid a leg over the saddle, adjusting my dress as the beast sidestepped beneath me.

With only a hum of amusement, Tallon mounted and nudged his stallion forward, leading us out of the courtyard. The remaining guard cast a brief glance my way, his gaze unreadable, darkened by the shadow of his helm, before he followed the prince into the sunlight. Teeth gritted, I pressed my heels into the horse and it surged, eager to match pace with the others.

I was no burden. Not some tool to be left behind. I was a princess.

The ride through the outer palace grounds and city streets blurred in a flurry of movement. The horse’s antics kept my focus split—its neck arched, its steps jerking between a trot and the hint of a canter, as if it longed to break free. Each time I adjusted my grip, my lips pressed into a stubborn line, determined not to lose control.

The city fell away faster than expected. A few short minutes brought us from the palace courtyard, through the bustling streets, and beyond the walls. Fields rolled out, stretching wide and open, green waves that rippled under the day’s first light. Dew evaporated as the sun rose higher, a faint mist lifting from the earth, drifting skyward.

Tallon let his horse break into a full gallop. Grateful for the release, I allowed mine to follow in a swift canter. Though the pace jostled me, it seemed to calm the stallion, and I caught a flicker of amusement in Tallon’s gaze, his silent dare hanging between us.

Kaden’lon’s family estate soon emerged, a low sprawl of stone and timber, the braying of hounds reaching us well before we turned onto the drive. Their yelps and barks filled the air, and the scent of damp earth mixed with the warm musk of animals. Servants moved about, some carrying bundles, others herding dogs toward the large house.

Like many of Radaan’s buildings, the Lon residence stretched outward, long and low rather than towering. Shadowed in the early light, it wrapped around itself, concealing inner courtyards from view. Sunlight skimmed over its sturdy walls, the structure seeming to fold into the land rather than rise above it.

Kaden emerged from the house, his smile broad, exuding an almost childlike delight. Loose tan trousers and an unlaced white tunic revealed more collarbone than decorum might demand, though he seemed oblivious—or worse, indifferent—to my presence as he greeted us. A flush crept over his cheeks when his gaze met mine, his casual attire sending an unwelcome jolt of surprise through me. He knew I was coming. He couldn’t bother with a proper coat?

“Good morn!” he called, blushing when he glanced my way.

“Morn!”

Tallon dismounted, tossing the reins to his guard. He strode forward, embracing Kaden with a broad smile, turning the man back toward his house, their conversation dropping to a low murmur. The young noble twisted, peeking over his shoulder, his features burning a richer shade of red.

A hot wave of humiliation crashed through me, leaving a bitter taste. My betrothed, a prince, discarded me like rubbish, abandoning me to dismount alone. The indignity cut deeper than mere neglect—it was deliberate. It was insulting.

The guard edged the horses closer, perhaps sensing my intent. I dismounted with practiced ease and landed with a crisp thud. Tallon’s eyes flicked my way, and my glare followed him, a sharp reminder that I hadn’t missed the slight.

My boots ate up the ground with brisk strides. I swept past them as a steward rushed to open the door, bowing as I approached.

When the men caught up with me, I allowed my tone to bleed with all the venom I could muster. “I do believe it’s feeding time?”

Tallon met my stare with practiced indifference—impervious to the fire behind my eyes.

In the kennels, the prince treated me as little more than a shadow, a mere inconvenience in his domain. I stood beside him, unacknowledged, as we watched the dogs tear into live rabbits—a grim display that left the air thick with snapping jaws and a sharp, metallic scent. I glanced his way, eyebrows raised, as he shot me a look, perhaps expecting me to pale or shrink back like some highborn lady.

Kaden’s mother, Jianth’lon, refused to set foot in the kennels during feedings. She had even tried to tempt me away with promises of tea, but I declined. I wanted to show Tallon that I could face his world, brutal though it was, without hesitation .

I was his betrothed, bound by duty to forge peace between our nations. Despite his apathy, I pushed forward, determined to make this alliance more than a hollow arrangement. He, however, shrugged off my every effort, leaving a slow, bitter anger simmering beneath my skin.

Hours later, as we returned to the palace, my mind lingered on the moment when I pointed out a hound that hesitated to eat its prey, saying how it might make a good hunting companion. Tallon laughed —an outright, genuine, mocking laugh. The memory blazed, filling my vision with a wash of red.

The horse tensed beneath me, picking up on my fraying patience and drifting focus. Then, with a sudden jolt, it bolted, tearing down the road in a frenzy of pounding hooves and flaring nostrils.

My riding lessons had been safe, confined to parades within city walls or leisurely outings with my family. I had never galloped, never felt a creature surge beneath me with this wild, reckless force.

And so, in my panic, I made the most foolish decision—I dropped the reins.

My arms locked around the horse’s thick neck, my fingers digging into its rough coat. A startled curse left my lips as its head jerked up, cracking against mine with a force that sent stars bursting across my vision. Behind me, Tallon’s whoop rang out, mocking and exuberant, as we careened forward.

I squinted against the wind and the sting of coarse mane whipping my face. My teeth clashed hard, snapping down on my tongue, and a metallic warmth seeped into my mouth. I spat the blood, cursing the beast beneath me as it thundered toward the distant city.

I’d ridden dragons—beasts that made this creature seem tame in comparison. My father or brother always sat behind me, their hands firm on my waist. If I could ride a creature that feasted on horses, I could surely keep my seat on one.

Blinking against the blur, I focused on staying balanced, ignoring the horse’s joyful grunts as it pounded over the road. A single slip would send me hurtling toward the ground, leaving no hope of recovery against the hard-packed earth.

I reached for the leather strap snapping in the wind, fingers brushing close, desperate to catch the reins. If I could gain just enough control, I’d steer the beast in tight circles until it tired itself out.

The horse stumbled as I stretched, throwing me off-balance. My stomach lurched, and I slipped sideways, clinging to a handful of mane with one arm while I tightened my leg over its back, clinging to its side. I gritted my teeth, cursing my own stupidity as I dangled, muscles straining to keep my hold.

We barreled through the city gates, the din of startled shouts and cries swelling around us. I blocked out everything but the raw burn in my leg, clamping down with every ounce of strength I had left. The stables lay ahead, and if the beast kept running, I might just hang on that far .

My grip wavered, fingers sinking deeper into the black mane, ready to yank out a fistful with me if I fell. But then a second set of hooves drummed close beside us. My heart leapt in my chest as another rider closed in, their horse steady and sure at our side. My mount shied as they leaned in, catching the reins as it whipped past.

“Whoa,” they murmured, his voice calm and coaxing.

They eased the horse’s pace until we fell into a rough trot, the black beast’s wild energy ebbing.

My legs gave way, and I slipped.

Something snared me by my waist, hauling me upright, crushing me to a broad chest—the rider steadied both horses into the courtyard. My legs dangled, feet brushing the side of the horse, while I clutched his arm as though it were a lifeline.

“Thank you!” The words escaped in a breathless squeak, and I ducked under his jaw as he glanced over the expanse.

“Greaves.”

The single name struck like a hammer, freezing my pulse in horror.

The king’s guard rode up, dark eyes blazing as he seized the runaway horse’s bridle, yanking it aside with barely restrained fury. He glared at the animal, his jaw set, refusing me even a glance.

Kallias shifted beneath me, his powerful thigh flexing as he dismounted in one fluid motion that carried us both to the ground. He caught my weight as I staggered against him, savoring the last seconds I had before I forced myself to look up.

Shame burned my cheeks as my gaze met his glacial blue stare, shadowed and stern beneath a furrowed brow. His fingers brushed the corner of my mouth, a thumb grazing where blood clung to my skin, his jaw clenched in outrage.

I swallowed, stepping back to steel myself, then lifted my chin. “The horse got away from–”

“Where is Tallon?” he interrupted, the quiet command in his voice sharper than a shout.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my nerves morphing into irritation. “Your son was offering exclamations of excitement as my steed tore off, Your Majesty. ” I snarled. If he wanted to cut me off, so be it. I could be just as rude.

His eye twitched, his grip tightening, reminding me he still held me close.

“Are you well?” he asked, the faintest pause before his gaze flicked down my disheveled dress.

“Well enough,” I shot back, stepping away, my shoulders squared. “Perhaps next time, consider a better trainer for your war horses.”

“You made it!”

Tallon’s voice cut through the tension, drawing our attention. He and his guard entered the courtyard, his grin faltering as he noticed his father standing by my side.

“That beast is the fastest in the stables—no way we could’ve caught him.” He laughed, the sound as casual as if we’d all shared some harmless joke.

“You–”

Kallias’ hand clamped onto my arm before I could unleash the retort gathering on my tongue. I turned, ready to shake him off, to rage against his interference—but the fury seething in his gaze stilled me. Raw, controlled wrath blazed across his face as he released me, stalking toward his son.

“Down.”

The single, frigid word left the prince white-faced, and he slid from the saddle without protest. Kallias loomed over him, one hand gripping his shoulder in a punishing grasp, his fingers digging deep until Tallon winced. The king leaned close, his voice too low for me to hear, his expression lethal.

Whatever he said, it transformed the prince’s gaze, his once-sharp eyes narrowing as they found mine. I shivered beneath the venom in his stare.

Now I understood what Ronan meant when he warned me of Tallon’s immaturity. But couldn’t my brother have warned me of the extent of his stupidity? He was more than a spoiled brat—he was cruel, with a streak of malice that ran deep. I wanted nothing to do with him or his kind.

Kallias’ grip tightened, drawing a grunt from his son before allowing him to shrug free. The prince slunk back, his defiance blunted by his father’s warning, but the king didn’t spare him another glance.

He turned to me instead, the golden yoke at his neck swaying with his movement. His jaw flexed as he closed the distance, his steps deliberate, carrying an unspoken command I could feel settle in the air. For the first time, I hoped he’d dismiss me—to order me to my chambers, away from Tallon and his dark moods. I longed for the safety of my rooms and the loyal presence of my handmaidens.

The king’s gaze softened for a fraction, as if he sensed the exhaustion beneath my composure. He jerked his chin toward the palace in silent agreement, and I turned at his side, leaving Tallon behind. Kallias’ hand rested at the small of my back, his touch steady, guiding me farther from the prince.

Away from the man I was supposed to marry.

Hours later, with my face washed and fresh clothes free of horse hair and sweat, I slipped out of my chambers. Edith protested in vain, but I ignored her, gliding past as I left. If Tallon attended council meetings, so would I. I might despise him for his cruelty, but he was the future king of Radaan, and I intended to rule beside him, not waste away as some broodmare forgotten in the shadows .

Not once had he checked on me, not a single message sent. My vague report had ignited Scythe’s fury; she threatened to slip herbs into his wine, enough to keep him at the chamber pot till dawn, but I managed to restrain her—not that it wasn’t tempting.

Yesterday, I maintained a quiet resolve to charm him, to unearth some common ground where friendship might root, if nothing else. That plan now felt as insubstantial as morning mist.

A guard swung open the door, and I strode through, chin lifted, eyes scanning the room. Heavy with polished wood and gilt trim, the chamber held a grand oval table, its expanse surrounded by chairs, some unoccupied and lined in neat rows nearer the doors for any nobles who cared to observe.

At the head, Kallias loomed, gesturing to a map laid open across its surface. His eyes caught mine mid-sentence, his hand pausing above the land’s sprawled illustration, his gaze shifting with an unspoken question. Around him sat noblemen and a few dignitaries, their robes rich and refined. The prince, however, lounged back in a seat apart from the others, positioned with a young noble, Fyrn’sol at his side.

Fyrn spotted me and, with an inviting smile, scooted over to make space by Tallon. I took a steadying breath and approached, hiding the instinct to ask her to place herself between us.

“…and Edon’s men will be needed for the harvest.” Kallias’ voice resumed, redirecting my attention.

His gaze hadn’t left me—watchful, unyielding. I offered him a slight bow of acknowledgment before slipping into the empty seat beside Tallon, my presence ignored as he confided with the noble on his other side.

He bristled as I tucked my skirts close to be sure we weren’t touching. The thought that this cruel, shallow boy might one day share my bed made my skin crawl.

“I’m glad you came!” Fyrn whispered, leaning in.

She smelled of roses and wore a low-cut pink gown, her hair falling in loose curls over her shoulders. Her fingers wrapped around mine, giving a gentle squeeze. I returned her smile, and, feeling Tallon’s eyes on me, lifted my gaze to meet his cold stare with a grin as false as his own. The nobleman on his other side edged over a fraction, sensing the tangible animosity between us.

I leaned back with a smirk as if to say, You’ll need to try harder if you want to scare me away , then settled into my chair with the intent of absorbing whatever I could from the council meeting.

To be fair, it was a boring ordeal. It soon became clear the gathering would be more tedious than enlightening. Tallon and his companion barely paused in their quiet but persistent chatter about an upcoming horse race, their voices filling the space around us and drowning out what little sense I could make of the council’s proceedings. From the bits I managed to catch, the conversation centered on preparations for the harvest and the allocation of soldiers across Kallias’ lands.

Why would the king’s forces need to assist with crop collection? Did he use his army for common labor during harvest, or were there troubles brewing beneath the surface of these mundane orders? But each time my attention focused, Tallon’s prattle about some magnificent steed named Fleetfoot disrupted any understanding I might glean.

“Darius, when is the ambassador from Vellos to arrive?” Kallias’ firm voice cut through, pulling my focus back to him.

“He is due next week, Your Majesty.” Darius, sturdy as a mountain, inclined his head in acknowledgment. He wore his years like a seasoned warrior, short white hair and beard giving him the air of an elder general, though I had yet to confirm his rank.

Kallias’ eyes flicked to me before resting on his son, then back to the table. “The treaty demands we accommodate the ambassador’s needs,” he said, bracing himself on his hands as he studied the map, “but that doesn’t mean he has free rein. I want two guards shadowing him at all times—and an additional guard posted at Princess Nienna’s hall.”

I straightened, unable to keep silent. “Surely the six stationed there are sufficient?” I’d counted them myself, those hulking shadows standing at every door and corridor. A seventh seemed superfluous. I already felt like a bird caged in steel.

The king’s gaze pinned me in place—an impenetrable wall of glacier-blue. “Another guard will be stationed at your hall,” he replied, a flat command. The tone held no give, no invitation for argument.

I sank back in my seat, holding his stare, though inside I seethed. One more set of eyes felt as pointless as the rest; what could he add to the watch they already kept?

Kallias returned to the map, his jaw tight as he dismissed the meeting. “If he arrives with an entourage, deny them entry.” His gaze darkened, his lips pressed thin. “Until tomorrow.”

He pushed off the table, that ever present golden mantle swaying with his movements as he left. Greaves followed. They offered no further acknowledgement of our presence.

He was the king, after all. He had places to be.

“Free at last.” Tallon stretched, a gesture lacking the dignity expected of a prince. A lock of hair fell over his brow as he gave Fyrn—not me—a sly smirk.

I swallowed my pride. “Would you take me to the temple?” The words tasted bitter. He was the last person I wanted to ask for anything, but Fyrn’s hopeful presence reminded me of my attempts to make this arrangement bearable.

He wrinkled his nose as though I’d suggested mucking stables. “What for? It’s filled with dusty crooks who cling to the old ways. They’d sooner control the throne than serve it. I’m retiring—and you’d do well to do the same.”

His insolence struck deep. This was more than mere arrogance; he was defying his father’s order with a smug satisfaction, assuming I’d follow like a meek child.

I turned to Fyrn instead, keeping my voice light. “Fyrn, would you mind escorting me in his stead?”

Color bloomed over her cheeks as her gaze darted to Tallon, but she dipped her head and nodded. “It would be my pleasure.”

With that, we rose, smoothing our skirts as we moved for the door, leaving the prince behind without another look.

He didn’t deserve a second glance.