Rhett was alone in a small dressing room, sitting on a small cushioned stool. In his hands were a pair of his scuffed leather boots—the ones his mother had made well over a decade ago. Even though Amara had repaired them once before, they were now worn and tattered from weeks of marching and fighting in battles.

  The ‘R’ etched onto the side of each boot was now barely visible under the thick layer of dried mud. The seams were coming undone, and the soles were worn down to the point that the shoes had become unwearable. And now, he feared that they were even beyond saving.

  Still, Rhett traced the fading initial with his thumb. He had known better than to wear them to war—he had plenty of other boots he could have brought—but they were one of only two things he had taken to remind him of Amara. But once again, his selfishness ruined something he loved.

  “Rhett?” A soft voice called from the other room. “Can you grab something for me?”

  “Coming,” he called back, standing from the stool.

  He pushed open the cracked door, stepping into the adjoining bedchamber. But the moment he entered, his body tensed up, and his feet stopped mid-step.

  Amara was seated in a plush armchair in the center of the room, with her dress pulled down around her arms and her breasts exposed as she nursed Lilibeth. Rhett immediately averted his gaze, lowering his eyes to the boots in his hands.

  “Uh…” he mumbled, unsure whether to turn back or stay.

  When Amara started attempting to breastfeed their daughter three days ago, she had asked for Rhett not to be in the room. In her mind, she wasn’t ready for him to see her naked—even partially so. Of course, he agreed to her request, hoping it was just another step toward her eventually forgiving him.

  “Can you grab one of the rags on the dresser?” Amara inquired calmly, motioning to her right. “I should’ve grabbed one earlier because my other breast is leaking now, and Lilibeth is half-asleep. If I move her, she’ll wake up—and I really don’t want to go through another round of her high-pitched screaming.”

  “Those cries are almost worse than the screeches Zayn does when in his dragon form,” Rhett chuckled under his breath.

  He gently set his boots down, wiped his hands on his pants, and crossed the room. He picked up two soft cloths, but rather than turning around, he walked backward toward Amara.

  “Watch out—”

  But as she warned him, Rhett tripped over a footstool, falling to the floor with a loud crash. At first, Amara was silent as she looked at him in shock. But when they made eye contact, she couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up in her chest. However, between her shaking and the sound of Rhett falling, Lilibeth was startled awake. She whimpered at first before letting out a wail that could pierce through armor.

  “And there it is,” Amara sighed, tilting her head back with a weary groan. “Can you take her so I can clean up, please?”

  Rhett moved quickly, scrambling to his feet and gently lifting the squirming baby from her arms. He turned his back to give her privacy, cradling Lilibeth against the right side of his chest. The child’s cries hit his ears like arrows, but he held her close and began rocking her slowly.

  “Shhh, my littlest love… it’s alright. Papa’s got you…”

  But Lilibeth didn’t calm down until scales formed across his skin, surrounding her in his dragon’s warmth. Her cries turned into hiccups, and her wide brown eyes stared up at him as her lower lip quivered.

  Rhett smiled down at her, stroking her cheek with his knuckles.

  “What’s with that pitiful pout? Were you not done drinking yet?”

  “Between drinking from both Libby and me, she’s practically milk drunk,” Amara scoffed softly as she stepped up beside him. Her dress was pulled back into place, and her chest was covered. “She’s just upset we startled her awake before she was fully passed out.”

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, glancing at her remorsefully. “I didn’t mean to trip.”

  “Next time, just look where you’re going,” she teased gently as she leaned against his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. She looked down at the baby, her expression softening as the little one whimpered again.

  “I know I said I didn’t want you in the room while I fed her,” Amara said quietly. “But… sometimes, when I’m sitting alone, I pretend you’re beside me. I don’t know why. I just… I find myself missing you more in those moments than when you were at war.”

  Then she paused, wiping her eyes as she laughed at herself.

  “Sorry. I know it sounds silly…”

  “There’s nothing silly about it,” Rhett interrupted gently, leaning over slightly to kiss the top of her head. He then shifted Lilibeth over his right shoulder and picked up one of the fallen rags from the floor, tucking it under her chin. “I’ll do whatever makes you feel comfortable, little dove. Whatever you need—just tell me.”

  Amara wrapped her arms around his waist, moving so her cheek would rest against his back. She watched as Lilibeth let out a few soft burps and a little spit-up before finally going limp in Rhett’s arms, her mouth slightly open as she fell asleep.

  “You’re really good at that,” Amara murmured, gently wiping the corners of Lilibeth’s mouth with the cloth.

  “Thanks, it’s a gift,” Rhett smirked playfully.

  “Is that so?” Amara chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Then perhaps we should make this your permanent job, Your Majesty. No more council meetings or holding court, it’s only burping duty for you from now on.”

  “I don’t know,” he groaned with a wince as pain flared through the left side of his body. “As much as I enjoy cuddling her, this might need to be a shared responsibility. I can hardly move my left arm because of how it pinches the burnt skin.”

  Amara straightened up quickly, and her eyes widened.

  “By the gods, Rhett!” She gasped, stepping in front of him. She held out her arms, motioning for him to hand her the baby. “Why didn’t you say something? You still have that lava mark down your chest and side—what are you doing burping her like that if it causes you pain?”

  “I’m helping,” he said firmly, moving toward the crib and laying Lilibeth down. “She’s my daughter, too. I want to do my part.”

  “And I appreciate that, I do,” Amara replied softly, following close behind. “But I’d rather you not push through pain just to prove a point. There are other ways you can help—ways that don’t strain your wound.”

  “I know,” he sighed, turning back to face her. “I just… wanted to hold her for a bit. Even if it’s painful.”

  “Still…” she pouted. “I’d prefer you not hurt yourself at all.”

  Rhett stepped toward Amara before gently cupping her face. She didn’t flinch, but instead, relaxed under his warmth. Her hands reached up, gripping lightly onto his arms.

  “Have I told you how cute you are when you’re mad at me?” He teased, rubbing his nose against hers.

  Amara blushed, but she didn’t push him away. Instead, she closed her eyes and slowly leaned in closer until her lips pressed against his.

  For a moment, Rhett froze. Ever since they reunited several days ago, they’ve only kissed a few times—and he always started it. So, to have Amara be the one who initiated the kiss was quite startling.

  But as his body relaxed, Rhett’s hands moved down to her waist. After a few seconds, when Amara didn’t stop or pull away, he deepened the kiss. Her fingers went to his chest, clutching onto his tunic as he gently guided her backward, step by step, toward the edge of the bed. His grip tightened on her, pulling her just close enough that she could feel the heat coming from his wound.

  However, just as the kiss started to turn passionate, there was a knock at the door.

  Rhett let out a low groan and leaned forward, resting his forehead against Amara’s for just a second.

  “I’m sorry if I went too far.”

  He pulled back slightly to meet her eyes, only to see that her face and ears had turned bright red. Amara shook her head, breathless and unable to meet his gaze.

  “No… You didn’t. I—” Her voice wavered before she continued in a quieter tone. “I like it. A lot, actually.”

  Rhett smiled, and even Silas purred softly in relief at her words. But before he could respond, there was another knock, and his expression darkened. With a quiet growl of frustration, he crossed the room and opened the door. On the other side, he found Walden standing in the corridor.

  “The witches have arrived,” he stated.

  Rhett scowled, giving a curt nod before closing the door again. When he turned, he saw Amara had moved to the crib, leaning over to check on their daughter. Lilibeth, thankfully, was still asleep.

  “Gwendolyn’s back,” he said quietly as he approached, resting a hand on Amara’s waist. “And she brought the other witch. They’re getting ready to put the bracelet on Anwen. Did you want to come?”

  Amara didn’t answer right away. She pressed her lips together into a thin line as she moved the hair away from Lilibeth’s forehead.

  “No,” she said without looking up. “I’d rather not see Anwen again.”

  Rhett sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “I feel the same… but I need to be there to witness it since she is my prisoner and responsibility.”

  Amara nodded softly, keeping her eyes on the baby.

  “I’ll ask Kenna if she wouldn’t mind sitting with you while I’m gone,” he added, already stepping toward the door again.

  “Why send her here? Won’t she be there to watch, too?” Amara questioned, turning to look at Rhett.

  “No,” he said, pausing mid-step. “Kenna won’t watch because she doesn’t condone the use of those bracelets.”

  “I know she argued with Anwen about not getting it, but why would she be against something that could keep people safe?”

  “Because she had one of those bracelets,” he answered after a moment. “Technically still does—the magic just doesn’t affect her anymore.”

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  “I’ve only ever seen a marriage bracelet on her,” Amara said, furrowing her brows before her eyes widened in horror. “Wait… Did Mathias try to block her dragon?”

  “No…” Rhett shook his head. “The magical bracelet is around her ankle. Hidden beneath her dress… And Mathias didn’t put it there. It was placed on her when she was still a child, and she suffered greatly because of it.”

  “Who would do that to a child?”

  Rhett didn’t answer at first. Instead, he stepped forward and gently cupped Amara’s cheek with his hand.

  “It’s not my story to tell,” he murmured before kissing her forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

  With one final glance at the sleeping baby, Rhett turned and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

  The young king walked through the unfamiliar corridors of the Dunstead palace. Walden was a few paces behind him, with a small cluster of soldiers following further back.

  Every now and then, Rhett glanced back at Walden. Seeing the young lord acting like a personal guard was strange. Walden preferred to be out on the battlefield or in the training grounds, so for him to be inside the quiet palace was odd.

  Finally, Rhett slowed down just enough to motion for Walden to walk beside him.

  “You don’t need to be inside acting like a guard,” he said firmly. “The palace is safe and secure—your men have seen to that.”

  “My responsibility is to my king,” Walden replied simply. “And if that means walking beside him through a strange palace to make sure nothing goes wrong, then so be it.”

  “If I didn’t know better,” Rhett murmured, raising a brow at the lord. “I’d say you were itching to be appointed as my personal guardsman.”

  “What if I am?” Walden shrugged.

  That made Rhett snort.

  “The Walden I know enjoys fighting, the sounds of a battle, and yelling insults at the enemy while thrusting a sword into their belly. Not cushy guard duty and standing beside a door all day.”

  Walden didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his eyes on the floor. Rhett sighed, running a hand through his hair before speaking.

  “Is this about Quinn?”

  A moment of silence passed before Walden gave a small nod.

  “There’s a chance I don’t have a home to return to,” he whispered. “So… stepping in as your guard seemed like the next best thing.”

  That made Rhett stop in the middle of the corridor. He turned, facing Walden.

  “You will always have a home in Sylvaris,” he stated firmly. “But more than that, I’ll do everything in my power to help you and Quinn make amends. I need to do the same with him as well.”

  “But…” he continued. “If things don’t work out… I have another task in mind for you anyway. One that would take you away from home, and doesn’t involve following me around the palace.”

  “What other task?” Walden inquired, raising a brow.

  “It’s… more of a position than a task,” Rhett replied with a faint smirk.

  “You’re being vague again,” the Ruggeweyn lord frowned.

  “Because I have to finalize a few things first,” the king stated. “It needs to be a secret until then.”

  “Fine,” Walden rolled his eyes. “I’ll keep it hush-hush. Now what is it?”

  “Once we return to Sylvaris, I intend to name both you and Alric as generals over my army.”

  Walden blinked, surprised by the statement.

  “I’ll keep Alric stationed in Onlon to maintain those forces,” Rhett continued. “But for you—I want to send you to Jux. We’ve got nothing there anymore. No training camps, no stationed men that aren’t Mathias’s soldiers. With the new expansion and taking on Drurus as a vassal state, it’s only a matter of time before we need an army permanently near that border.”

  “What about Ruggeweyn?” Walden questioned softly.

  “Assuming Quinn doesn’t annex it,” Rhett scowled. “You’re free to go between both if you wish. Or pick any of Ruggeweyn’s men to serve under you in Jux. You’d have full control over your companies—same as Alric.”

  Walden didn’t speak for a minute. He just stared into the distance, speechless. Then, finally, he glanced back at Rhett with a serious expression.

  “You’re sure you want me?” He questioned. “My family’s been nothing but burdens and issues for the kingdom.”

  Rhett chuckled, placing a firm hand on the man’s shoulder.

  “Yes. But you’re my burden and issue. And one of the most loyal men I know. There’s no one else I’d trust to raise an army from the ground up.”

  There was a small smile tugging at the corners of Walden’s lips as he finally nodded.

  “Fine… since you’re desperate, I’ll accept the position.”

  “Good,” Rhett chuckled, crossing his arms. “But don’t say anything to Alric. I plan to meet with him separately once we’re on the road back to Jux.”

  “Oh no,” Walden grinned. “I’m rubbing this in that tall prick’s face the first chance I get. I found out before he did!”

  Rhett rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop himself from grinning.

  The two men continued walking down the hall, turning the corner before coming to a stop. Approaching from the opposite direction were Mathias and Jesup, followed by several of Ruggeweyn’s soldiers.

  Walden quickly bowed to the two men before stepping aside. Rhett glanced briefly down the corridor before turning his focus to Mathias.

  “Where’s Kenna?” He inquired.

  Mathias’s expression darkened slightly, and he crossed his arms as he stopped.

  “You know she didn’t want to be there to watch the bracelet be put on Anwen,” he said firmly.

  “No, I know,” Rhett raised his hands quickly. “I just… I wanted to ask if she could keep Amara company while we were gone. I figured she’d want to spend some time with her and Lilibeth before we leave tomorrow.”

  “Ah, well, you’re a bit late for that,” Mathias replied, relaxing his arms at his side. “Kenna and Aliyah are already on their way to your chambers. They planned to take Amara and the baby outside for some fresh air.”

  Rhett’s brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Mathias was quicker, raising a hand to cut him off.

  “Don’t worry,” he said calmly. “It’s just a terraced garden.”

  “And I checked it out earlier,” Jesup added. “Surprisingly, it wasn’t touched during the fighting—no rubble, no signs of lava damage. It’s safe.”

  Rhett hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod.

  “Alright…” He then turned and looked over at Walden, who exhaled loudly and started back the way they had come.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, not waiting for Rhett to give him a command. “I’ll keep an eye on the queen and princess.”

  “Thank you,” Rhett called after him, feeling slightly relieved.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Kenna and Aliyah. They were dragons and more than capable of protecting Amara and Lilibeth. But Drurus… Drurus was another problem altogether.

  Yes, the kingdom was now officially under Sylvaris’s rule. But Rhett wasn’t naive. He knew there would be people throughout the kingdom who resented his rule. And some of those people would be in Dunstead, even within the palace walls.

  At the very least, Walden’s guarding of his wife and child added another layer of protection, which gave Rhett peace of mind.

  A low cough pulled his attention back to Mathias, who was now standing with a raised brow.

  “Shall we continue to Anwen’s chambers and get this over with?”

  “Right. Sorry,” Rhett murmured, straightening his back. He went up to Jesup, walking alongside the prince as they resumed down the corridor.

  As they walked, Rhett’s thoughts drifted back to yesterday, when he accepted Drurus as a vassal state. It hadn’t been a decision he made lightly, despite how last-minute it may have seemed. The treaty was finalized late into the afternoon, leaving just one blank line: who would oversee Drurus.

  And, as expected, all eyes had turned to him.

  Though it was a lot of responsibility to take on, there were some advantages, too. Drurus, as a vassal state, would be required to send a percentage of its annual taxes to Sylvaris, provide troops during times of war, and open its borders for allied trade. In return, they’d receive protection, infrastructure support, and access to Sylvaris’s resources.

  Still, it wasn’t just about politics or money. The people of Drurus had suffered from the war, and their trust would not be easy to get—especially since it was their own soldiers who hurt them. Rhett knew it would take a lot of patience and careful leadership to win the people over and to bring peace to the kingdom.

  Thankfully, most of that responsibility wouldn’t be on Rhett’s shoulders. That duty would fall to one of Vespera’s princes, something Rhett was grateful for—even if it made him feel guilty. At Mathias’s suggestion, the candidates had been narrowed down to two of his seven sons: Rama, the third-born, and Marius, the fifth.

  Both were strong men with skilled minds and diplomatic experience. But while all of the princes had been raised as if they might rule some day, only four had shown real interest in it: Jesup, the crown prince; Enki, who currently served as heir to his wife’s distant kingdom; and then Rama and Marius.

  Of the two princes, Rhett found himself leaning toward Marius. He and his wife had no children, and though that could change, it made the idea of relocating to an unstable, war-torn kingdom somewhat less burdensome.

  On the other hand, Rama had a wife and two young children, with a third on the way. Rhett couldn’t in good conscience ask him to uproot his family and bring them here. Still, the decision wouldn’t be his to make. Mathias and Kenna would return to Vespera the next day and present the opportunity to both princes.

  Whoever accepted the role would begin the process of moving. Their first stop, however, would be to go to Sylvaris, where the prince would kneel before Rhett. Then, he would be crowned as a vassal king and receive Drurus’s ring.

  In the meantime, Jesup and Aliyah would remain behind to help oversee the transition. Along with a few companies of Vesperan soldiers, they would stay in Drurus for at least two to three weeks, working to stabilize the kingdom before returning home.

  Rhett, however, felt guilty for this arrangement. Jesup and Aliyah had two sons back in Vespera, whom the crown prince hadn’t seen for months. But Jesup, as always, tried to make light of things, joking that their time away from the children might finally give him the chance to put another baby in his wife’s belly.

  The air was noticeably more tense when the men finally reached the corridor with Anwen’s room. Nearly a dozen soldiers stood outside her door, armed and ready to attack her should she try to escape. At the sight of the dragon shifters, the men saluted before parting to allow them to enter.

  Inside, Zayn and Yasir stood near the door, arms crossed and quiet as they stared at the witches across the room. Rhett glanced at Gwendolyn first, nodding his head toward her in greeting before looking at the man beside her—his skin was bronze in color, with no hair on his head. He wore dark robes loosely around his body, clearly made for warmer climates than the one they were in.

  “Ah, good, the rest of you are here,” Gwendolyn said as the door closed behind the men. “This is Malik, one of Eena’s witches. The Goddess would normally condemn what we’re here to do, but since Anwen is the one who asked for it, Eena has given Malik her permission to block the princess’s dragon.”

  But then Gwendolyn paused, turning her gaze toward the princess. Anwen sat quietly on the edge of her bed, looking down at the hands in her lap.

  “But I need to be certain,” the witch continued as she addressed Anwen. “You asked for this, but is it what you want, Anwen? No one is forcing you, are they?”

  The princess slowly raised her head before shaking it a little.

  “I want it,” she said quietly. “It was all my idea.”

  Gwendolyn narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced.

  “You’re sure this is your will alone? That you’re not being pressured? Not by Rhett or anyone else?”

  “Rhett’s only wrongdoing is not letting me die,” Anwen frowned, straightening a little. “So if I’m going to live against my will, I’d rather have my dragon locked away in my soul. That way, no one can force me to create poison again…”

  At this, Gwendolyn turned to Malik and gave him a single nod. The man stepped forward silently, pulling a narrow bronze bracelet from his sleeve.

  “I will do it,” he said softly, almost soothingly. He stepped toward Anwen and held out the bracelet. “Where would you prefer it—your wrist or your ankle?”

  “My wrist,” Anwen replied without hesitation.

  “There will be pain,” he warned. “Especially if your dragon resists.”

  “She won’t. She wants this, too. We’re tired… ready to die… so if this is the way I can give her some rest, then let it be done.”

  The witch gave her one last look, allowing the princess to change her mind.

  “Once it’s on, there is no taking it off. This will be your fate—unless, of course, you’re secretly as strong as Kenna.”

  “I’m not,” she whispered. “And I won’t fight it. I don’t want it off. My dragon is just a weapon for others to use. I want to take that away from them.”

  With no more words, Malik moved closer and carefully clasped the bracelet around her wrist. The moment it clicked, he raised both hands over it and closed his eyes, muttering something in a language only Gwendolyn recognized. Light began to glow between his fingers.

  At first, Anwen felt a warming sensation over her skin, but then it worsened. Searing pain went through her arm, and though she tried to fight through it, she couldn’t hold back for long. Soon, the princess started to scream, followed by sobs that shook her body.

  Rhett forced himself to watch. Something deep inside him wanted it to stop—to step in and stop her pain—but he stood still, clenching his hands at his sides. This was her choice, even though Anwen had forced his hand to allow it to happen.

  After several agonizing minutes, the glow from Malik faded away. He gently took her hand in his, brought her wrist to his lips, and blew a cool stream of air over her burned skin. Anwen’s cries softened, and eventually she calmed down enough to breathe normally again. But the tears kept falling.

  Gwendolyn stepped forward, giving the princess a pitied expression.

  “Do you want something for the pain?”

  Anwen didn’t look up. She just shook her head. Gwendolyn nodded once, then glanced at Malik. The two witches quietly exited the room, followed closely by Zayn, Yasir, Mathias, and Jesup. One by one, they left until only Rhett remained.

  He didn’t approach her, but stayed where he was, watching her silently for a while. After a moment, he let out a sigh.

  “I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” he said softly. “Jesup will remain until the vassal king arrives.”

  “You mean my warden?” Anwen murmured.

  Rhett hesitated, then gave a slow nod.

  “Yes… your warden. But if you need anything—truly anything—all you have to do is ask. Once I receive Drurus’s financial records, I’ll set up an allowance fund for you. You’ll be able to buy clothes, hire staff, whatever you require.”

  The princess didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at him. Rhett exhaled slowly, debating on just leaving before he continued speaking.

  “Tomorrow, after we leave, Jesup will allow you outside. You can go anywhere within the palace grounds. And… you’ll be able to choose a place to bury Kohen.”

  That got her attention. Her gaze went up to the young king.

  “He’s been kept in the mountain’s cold storage since I killed him,” Rhett stated. “But it’s time to lay him to rest. We’ll mark the spot wherever you choose so you can visit him whenever you wish.”

  “And if you’d like—”

  “Please… just go,” Anwen whispered, interrupting him. “I don’t need your pity or kindness. Let me start my prison sentence in peace.”

  Rhett nodded once before backing up out of the room. He closed the door behind him, leaving the princess alone with her thoughts and pain.