Kastali Dun

Claire sighed, rubbing her temples. Her desk was a mess, scattered with parchment. Just the sight of it made her temples throb. "Ugh," she muttered, eyes snagging on a particularly lengthy missive she'd set aside this morning, to procrastinate reading it.

The days had blurred together, one into another, after Talon's announcement of their mate bond. Her kitten was a handful, but a joyous one. Not like this new task. The day after their mate bond announcement, a contingent of Spriten emissaries had arrived. She'd expected them, but had hoped it wouldn't be so soon. They'd handed her a tall stack of documents, sealing her fate. At least for a while.

In the days after taking the Spriten throne, she'd worked with Taylynn and her nobility to ensure the kingdom would thrive in her absence. Decisions were to be made in her absence by those who had her people's best interests at heart. Since she couldn't be there to approve everything, they were to do so in her stead. Every matter was to be documented by the Spriten scribes, and sent to her. She would then have a set time period of two months to review and refute any decision she disagreed with. It was a failsafe, so that they couldn't do whatever they wanted in her absence.

She'd gotten a head start on the foot-tall stack of documents the day it had arrived, eager to feel useful. But as the days passed, as she chipped away, that enthusiasm had dimmed. Especially when Desaree and Jocelyn had returned.

It had been a joyous reunion. She'd stayed up late into the evening within her queen's sitting room, sharing stories. Their time at sea had been entirely uneventful. But they wanted to hear all about her journey back to the capital, and the announcement that had everyone gossiping—

A knock came. She all but groaned in relief. "Come in," she called.

Desaree poked her head in. "Can you step away?"she said. "Madame Rosanne is here."

"Thank the gods," Claire muttered, massaging the crease between her eyebrows.

"Hard day of work?" Desaree grinned.

"I shouldn't complain." She stood, following Des from her study to the main room. Her other handmaidens were already there. "Ayas Drollaya," they greeted, offering a small bow of respect.

"Madame Rosanne," she all but squealed, throwing herself at the familiar face. Rosanne beamed, taking her by the shoulders, kissing one cheek and then the other.

"Darling girl," she breathed. "What a beauty you are, and queen now, too? I always knew you would take this kingdom by storm. My, but it is good to see you."

"You too! Des has all sorts of grand ideas for my bonding ceremony gown, and for my coronation gown. I hope you are up for the task."

Rosanne chuckled. "Would I turn down such an honor? Never. This will be even more stunning than your ballgown."

"And it must reflect both my bloodlines," she warned.

"Indeed," Rosanne beamed, eyes darting over her markings before returning to her face. "You would not believe the requests coming in for translucent gowns. Half the ladies are grumbling over the 'indecency' of it, the other half are applauding. And yet, all of them are rushing to my door for new creations."

"Then, business is good?"

"Dear girl, I have a backlog that will take me three years to finish! I've had to expand my business, buy out my neighbor's building, and set to work enlarging the store front. I've hired six—six!—new apprentices."

Claire's cheeks hurt from grinning so hard. "That's amazing."

"Come, come," Rosanne motioned, urging her over to the table. A large sketch book waited. They sat, flipping through dress designs while her handmaidens set out tea, offering their opinions here and there. Rosanne admitted that she'd seen this day coming, had anticipated it, and already started several designs before Claire had returned to the capital. Each sketch was stunning. In true Rosanne fashion, they came to life when the page was touched. The models swirled and turned, showing off tulle and lace, satin and silks, beads and sequins. Each one left her breathless.

"We can substitute lace for this portion to show off your marks," Rosanne would say. Or, "This ought to be tulle."

An entire afternoon passed in a blink. They enjoyed tea and dainty finger foods. Batty crept into the room then curled up in Desaree's lap. By the time Rosanne said her goodbyes, they'd decided on preliminary designs for both her bonding and coronation gown.

Her gowns weren't the only preparations underway. Her little army of planners—that's what she'd nicknamed them—had already completed the guest list, invitations (which had gone out days ago), table center piece designs, and flower choices. They worked from sunrise to sunset, overseen by Desaree, splitting the tasks while still seeing to their everyday duties.

Desaree was a blessing. She organized their schedules expertly. She would have made a good head woman in Tess's place some day. Speaking of, Claire had managed to pay the woman a visit, finally. She'd been in the cookery as expected, and had treated her to tea and frosted buns while they sat catching up.

Tess wasn't the only person she'd visited. She had also gone to the college to visit Mage Marcel and her other teachers. Marcel had taken the opportunity to remind her of the importance of a good education. She'd felt a little guilty for declining, albeit temporarily. She was unbelievably busy, after all. But she promised that once the ceremony was over, she'd resume some of her private lessons.

After all, she still needed to master her Drengr magic even if she disliked it.

Marcel hadn't liked the answer, but he'd sent her away with a whole stack of books to study. She'd tried, in the evenings. Tried, and failed. It was too difficult to come back to the tower after dinner and tuck in to tedious topics when there was a kitten and a king vying for her attention. Talon insisted she attend his nightly meetings now. She declined half of them—wanted him to have time alone with his Shields. But she did pop in every so often, sometimes when they were least expecting it.

Dinner was little more than an hour away when Talon descended into her sitting room. Rosanne had just left. Desaree and her handmaidens fell quiet. "You weren't talking about me, I hope?" he teased.

"Never, Ayas Drollaya," Selphie gasped, turning shy.

"He's only teasing," Claire said, going over to him.

"Should we..." Miera trailed off.

"Oh, do not mind me," Talon said. "I am stealing my queen until dinner."

Claire's heart surged. They'd had so little time together. So very little.

She might have shared his bed, but he still tumbled in close to dawn most nights, despite her insistence he get a good night of sleep. The few times he came to bed with her, they were both too exhausted to do little more than kiss before falling into a deep slumber.

Talon had nightmares, she'd discovered. It had shocked her at first, to hear him crying out in his sleep, thrashing in the sheets. But it went a long way to explain why he was inclined to sleep so little. It made her heart weep. She knew—or, had a good idea—of his dreams and fears. The moment that had changed everything, the battle that had taken his parents from him, had given him both surface scars and scars that went much deeper, had turned him from a prince into a king. That fateful day still haunted him.

In those moments, when his distress was obvious, she'd reach for him, drape her body over his, and he'd stir. He'd wrap himself around her, sigh, nuzzle his nose into her hair, and fall back to sleep.

Her presence calmed him. Knowing that did things to her chest. Made her heart feel like it would burst.

"And what are you stealing me away for?" she wagged her eyebrows, unable to hide her grin.

"The war room."

"Oh." Her shoulders immediately fell. "We haven't been flying in ages," she groused.

They still took their evening walks together in the garden, almost every night after dinner, as long as there weren't other matters to interfere. But she'd given Talon a good deal of grace. She didn't want to stress him, or deepen his burdens. She didn't want him to feel like he had to chose between her and his kingdom.

Such was the of a ruler. She was figuring that out. Even if she hated it.

"I'll make it up to you," he said, pulling her against him, kissing her forehead. "How about flying after dinner?"

Her stomach swooped. "Yes," she breathed. "Deal."

She bid farewell to her ladies and followed Talon from the room. He held her hand, twining their fingers together. They passed through the main room of the tower and she caught sight of Feowen and Jeanine entering—returning. They offered respectful greetings before disappearing down the adjacent stairwell to the lower levels.

She'd given her guards shifts. With eight, she only needed four at a time. They took turns, which allowed them time to explore the city and their own pursuits. They didn't altogether enjoy being enclosed within the tower. They were used to wandering their forest.

Talon had offered up the queen's garden on the tower's roof as a place of refuge. They were often there, and even tended to the plants. It thrived.

Talon led her into his war room, which consisted of a giant table and a map that displayed all of Dragonwall, with little pieces that represented their armies, scattered across the kingdom. There were ships too, that represented their navy. "Your Majesties," Koldis drawled. He wasn't the only shield in the room. She also found Bedelth, Dallin, Jovari, Verath, gazing back at her.

Her eyes snagged on Bedelth. She'd seen a lot more of him lately and knew exactly why. He was avoiding his parents.

Dallin had melded into their ranks seamlessly. On the outside, at least. She wasn't sure what Shield-things went on behind closed doors. Things she wasn't privy to. Who knew, maybe there were initiations? She almost snorted at the thought, her college days coming back to her, remembering rush week and all the silly things eighteen and nineteen year olds were doing to initiate themselves into fraternities and sororities. Was there a dragon version? Did he have to hunt the largest grazer? Or get blindfolded and dumped somewhere where he'd have to fight his way free?

"Do tell us, what private joke is so funny?" Jovari chirped.

"Oh." Her cheeks flushed. She blinked and found all of their intent gazes, including Talon's. He lifted an eyebrow, bunching the scars on his forehead. "Uhm. Nothing."

"Very well," Talon said, calling them to attention. "We thought it was time to tackle the matter of the Dragon Stones. Taylynn requested we spend time pinpointing their locations. Claire has dreamt of them in the past. While there's not much else to go on, our hope is that from her dreams, we can glean some idea using landscape cues, to narrow down their locations."

Some of them hummed with interest. "And if we do? Are we to go in search of them?" Verath asked, rubbing his jaw. "That could take weeks. Months, even."

"Indeed. So let's hope we guess correctly."

"Could we not send out others in our stead? Navigators? The kingdom's army has plenty of trained cartographers and explorers."

"Possibly," Talon mused.

"Kane used a lot of magic when hiding the stones," Claire pointed out. "No one but a trained mage, or even a Sprite, could hope to find and free them."

It was a valid concern, both hers and Verath's, because they didn't have months to spend flying all over the kingdom, and yet, they were the most qualified to free the stones from whatever enchantments Kane had used. These factors created a challenge that needed solving. But they were used to such puzzles.

The remaining hour before dinner was spent pouring over Dragonwall's map. She described each of her dreams in detail—as much as could be recalled. They argued over possible landscape locations, placed pieces around the map, and theorized over how best to reach such places.

By the end of it, she wasn't sure if she felt hopeful or hopeless. "Everything will work out," Talon told her, pulling her aside as they left the room, heading down to dinner. Her four on-duty guards fell into formation and the others trailed behind, chatting casually.

It often felt like a royal procession.

She asked Talon about his day, listening to him talk about the problems he'd encountered at court and during his lower council meeting. "I had to try a city official because it was discovered that he severely misused funds set aside for the city's orphanages. Now the position is vacant, and I've got an entire list of complaints from the orphanage mothers who submitted a formal written petition."

"And things like this...happen often?" she asked, frowning.

"More often than you would think. If it's not a city official, its merchants caught scamming, or tax fraud, or any number of other financial crises that arise. In a city this size, it's always something. That's just the capital. Each lower council member represents a Dragondom, and each one has cities requiring the same level of care, with problems that mirror those in Kastali Dun."

She asked him for more details, especially about the capital city and its funds. She was particularly curious about the orphanage issue, circling back often. He explained that a portion of taxes was supposed to be set aside for both charity to the poor and philanthropy. Those in control of that money weren't always trustworthy.

"But, can't you just check with them to make sure they're using the funds correctly?" she argued as they descended the final grand staircase that led to the dining hall.

"My love," he paid her a patient look. "There numerous people managing positions like this, seeing to the proper expenditure of taxes. We do. I do. But I am but one person, and some issues aren't visible on the surface. Even with the help of my steward and lower council, we can only do so much before issues arise." He had a good point. "Besides, I already don't sleep enough, according to my mate, who reminds me often that sleep is important."

"Oh? Your mate? Who is she? She must be very wise to impart such advice."

"Wise, beautiful, and far too good for the likes of me."

"Talon," she warned, snorting.

They entered the hall and everyone came to their feet. Talon nodded, the signal that they may resume their seats, then led her down the aisle. Once seated, she continued to pepper him for information about his duties. Now that she was forced to sequester herself in her study for hours on end, reading over papers, she was subjected to a crash course in Spriten court politics. Those of the Drengr couldn't be all that different.

It surprised her when she found herself saying, "I'd like to manage the charity funds, if you'll let me. Even those set aside for investments and philanthropy purposes. I might need a secretary or advisor to help, but it would be a good way for me to get my feet wet with Dragonwall's politics and feel like I'm contributing something—as its future queen."

If Talon was surprised by this, he didn't show it. Instead, he looked thoughtful. "All right. I think I know just the person for that. Are you sure you do not already have enough with your current duties?"

She knew he was hesitant for her to take on too much. She'd seen plainly into his mind when they'd flown together. Seen his worries, that if she took on too much, too soon, it would burn her out before she was ready.

Still, her eyes narrowed because he was one to talk. Her expression must have said exactly that, because a laugh burst from his chest. "Very well, noted."

Their talk turned to less serious matters as she told him about her day and how Rosanne's visit had gone. Once he finished eating, he waited for her, draping an arm over the back of her chair, rubbing his thumb over her skin in frustrating patterns. His touch never got old.

After dinner, they went flying just as Talon had promised. She saw the path he intended, to Irelia Island. They'd only gone the one time, and remembering sent chills of anticipation across her skin.

"What can you be thinking?" he teased, knowing exactly where her mind was. Instead of waiting for an answer, he made his own thoughts clear, dreaming up scenarios that involved a moonlit swim like the one they'd enjoyed last time, except this time, there'd be a lot more involved. That was made clear when he imagined exactly how he intended to touch her.

They explored more of Irelia's ruins first. It was a wonder that dragons had once lived here. Seeing the hatching ground a second time reminded her of the mothers that would soon be giving birth to eggs. How long would they warm in the sands before hatching? How large would they be when that happened? As her feet crunched over colorful shell fragments, she imagined picking up a baby dragon the size of a small dog, cuddling it to her.

Warmth that felt a lot like yearning, flooded her.

They shed their clothes and waded out into the shallows. Seeing Talon's body was always a wonder, one that she never tired of. He didn't display shyness, despite his scars, despite how he felt about them. That he never shied away from sharing this with her shortened her breath. How many had been given such a gift, after he'd suffered? A slim few.

"What's that look for?" he asked, wading over after they'd both dunked themselves. The water came to her waist, hiding everything below. Still, she felt shy having her upper half on display. They'd bathed together, seen each other enough, and yet, his attention still left her shivering.

His gaze was possessive as it tracked over her exposed breasts. They puckered. "What look?" she challenged.

"The look you're wearing as you take me in. It looked a lot like wonder, but surely not."

"It was admiration and wonder," she clarified, reaching out for him, running her palms over his slick chest, eying the droplets that had formed. His chest hair was dark, trailing down to the vee outlined by his muscles, disappearing beneath the water's surface.

He pressed his hands over hers, flattening them. "Explain."

"Admiration because you are incredible to behold." Her gaze made a point of raking over him, taking in the deep groves of muscles honed by centuries. They twitched. "And wonder, because I alone have the privilege of enjoying you like this, enjoying the sight of your saltwater slicked body for my own pleasure."

A growl built in his throat, satisfaction in his eyes. "Such pretty words from such a pretty mouth," he purred, pulling her against him. He captured her lips and then her breath. It was a salty kiss, warm and languid, as his tongue stoked hers, like he wanted to taste every corner of her mouth and didn't mind spending an eternity doing so.

An eternity.

The years they had ahead of them certainly felt like it.

She'd only ever expected a human's lifespan. Now, once they were bonded, she'd share his. Years and years to deepen their love, to explore each other, to explore the world. To rule. To thrive.

But only if they could create such a world worth thriving in.

Talon's body hardened against hers, his breathing turning ragged. He swept her up. She circled his waist, anchoring herself to him while he walked them deeper into the sea. Their kisses turned hungrier. "Not much longer," he breathed between strokes of his tongue. "I will make you mine."

"Yes," she managed, growing lightheaded, almost dizzy. He made her dizzy. What they shared together made her dizzy.

"You'll like that, little mate, won't you? Being mine? Letting me claim you? Letting me worship you? In the many years I have ruled, I have never bowed to another, but I should like to bow to you, if you'll let me."

"Yes," she groaned before he captured her mouth again. His hands were dragon-fire hot as they roamed her.

A whimper rose in her chest. Her hips were lost to the moment, searching for friction. It was a torturous betrayal that had invisible claws scratching along the base of her spine, curling against the heated flesh of her core.

A gasp fell from her lips when his hand reached behind, low, so low, until he caressed the one place she needed him. His touch was a red hot brand. It was everything she begged for. It gave and gave and gave while she took and took and took, rocking against him with reckless abandon. Her breath punctuated the crashing waves, mixing and mingling, making music that twined with the rhythm of her body. Talon led her through a song she'd never quite heard—not like this. A song she sang soon enough as he dragged sounds from her lips, sounds telling of the pleasure he made her feel.

He added to those sounds, brushing his lips along the shell of her ear, whispering encouragement, begging her to give him exactly what his fingers wished to claim. Begging until she was trembling and collapsing against him. Quivering as wave after wave of bliss crashed over her, harder, more powerfully than the those rolling past them.

Then his lips were kissing her forehead, the closed lids of each eye, the tip of her nose, one cheekbone and then the other. The corner of her mouth, her chin, along her jaw. She breathed, in and out, dragging in gulps of air as the world's spinning slowed. Finally, she opened her eyes, met his. As she stared into the silver gaze waiting for her, she saw that eternity she'd thought of, and something deep in her chest stirred, latching on to it before settling down. And then he smiled.

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐

Hello Bookdragons!

I can't believe we're rushing headfirst towards Claire and Talon's bonding ceremony. It's been a long time coming and yet I can't believe we're already almost there. I hope you're as excited for it as I am!

Let's get this girl a crown. Okay, well, she has one already. So...a second?? :)

I have no idea what next week's chapter will be. I haven't written it yet. So we'll just have to wait and see.

I hope you're having a great week. See you Friday!

-Mel