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“The dragons like you too.” I smile to hide the pang in my chest.

I’m just…afraid. Afraid of what might happen to him if he goes. Afraid of what might happen to me if I’m left alone to rule without him. Afraid of what I might mess up without him here to help me.

All the details I missed while setting judgments that first day in court as Tirene’s ruler still haunt me.

“It’s not the same.” Sterling wanders closer until I can feel the heat of him against my back. “And the gods…they’ve reached out to you before. They kept me asleep and unaware while they were showing you visions.”

At the time it had been so scary, so intense, it never crossed my mind it might be something someone would want to happen. Even though I did feel special—chosen by them—the prophecy of my death always intermingled with those visitations.

I turn to face him, my hands coming up to rest on his chest. “That doesn’t mean⁠—”

“It means something.” His voice is firm now, with no hint of emotion. “You know it does.”

I let my forehead fall against his chest and inhale his familiar, delicious scent. His arms encircle me, pulling me closer, and I feel the steady beat of his heart against my cheek. “I don’t want to be apart from you. To not be the one covering your back.”

He strokes my hair, which is sweet, even if it musses the elegant half-up, half-down style Rhiann labored over this morning. “I know. But we’ve faced worse, haven’t we?”

A soft knock interrupts us.

We don’t spring apart. Not in our private chambers. But I do lift my head from Sterling’s chest as the door opens.

Agnar’s broad form fills the frame. He advances a step and falters, his emotions flitting across his face. Pain, loss, and a whisper of longing are quickly shuttered away behind his usual mask of calm competence.

When I catch that brief glimpse of raw emotion, my heart aches for him.

“Sorry.” He’s already retreating. “I can come back later.”

“No.” I pull away from Sterling. “Come in, Agnar. What is it?”

He hesitates, his blue eyes darting between us. “Just wanted to report that the packs are ready for tomorrow. Whenever you decide who’s going.”

This is so unlike the Agnar I know, who would normally jump at the opportunity to crack a crass remark in a situation like this.

Sterling hasn’t looked away from Agnar’s face. “What’s wrong, my friend?”

“Nothing.” The word comes too quickly, too defensively. He issues a hollow laugh and turns as if to leave.

Sterling steps away from me, his hand reaching out to clasp Agnar’s shoulder. “We’ve known each other for a long time. Don’t lie to me now.”

Agnar’s shoulders slump, and his throat works on a swallow. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“Sit.” Sterling gestures to the chairs by the hearth. It’s not an order, not quite, but there’s enough of the crown prince in his voice that Agnar complies by sinking into one of the cushioned seats.

I take the chair opposite him, while Sterling sits between us, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. The three of us form a small triangle, intimate and closed off from the rest of the world.

I keep my voice soft and gentle. “Talk to us.”

Agnar shifts in obvious discomfort, his large hands fumbling with the edge of his tunic. “It’s stupid. I shouldn’t have…it’s just…” He heaves a deep breath. “You’re both so good together. And don’t take this the wrong way, because no one is happier for you guys than I am, but sometimes I’m a little envious of what you two have. Even with everything stacked against you, you beat the odds.”

The wistfulness in his voice surprises me. My heart softens. “Cliché as this may sound, you’ll find someone when the time is right. You’re a wonderful man with an amazing heart. Plus, I’ve seen how women ogle you when you’re training.”

A flush creeps up Agnar’s neck and disappears into his hairline. “Think it’s the scars? They do lend me a sort of rugged charm, don’t they?” He tries to laugh again, but it’s even weaker than before.

Sterling leans back in his chair. “Miara is pretty. Why haven’t you ever gotten serious with her?”

“Oh, she’s pretty.” Agnar grimaces. “Also not the brightest woman in all the land.”

I chuckle despite myself. He’s not wrong. After the truth about eyril got out, she stopped drinking all teas and any other dark liquids. Even ones she prepared herself.