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Maseo hesitated. “Thanks to his drunken rants, I’m well aware of my father’s obsessive interest in you. It’s something he never hid from me.”

Kitsuki felt a flicker of discomfort at the reminder. “The less said about that, the better.”

A wry smile touched Maseo’s lips. “He would kill me if he could see me now, speaking with you like this.”

“Given how possessive he is, that is true,” Kitsuki acknowledged.

And if he knew how much we burn for Maseo, his jealous rage would know no bounds, his dragon added.

Maseo studied him with unexpected perceptiveness. “Are you well, Your Majesty? You seem tired.”

The simple question asked with genuine concern lowered Kitsuki’s guard. “The constant battles are draining. I have always preferred peace to war. If this proves to be the last conflict of my reign, I will consider myself fortunate.”

Maseo hesitated. “What about my uncle?”

“Uncle?” Kitsuki repeated, confusion displacing his fatigue. “Nasume’s younger brother died in childhood.” Rumors hadalways swirled that he had died by Nasume’s own hand, but there had never been proof.

“I meant King Fenalo Venrik of Reflorna,” Maseo clarified. “He’s my first cousin once removed, but I’ve always called him Uncle Fenalo.”

Understanding dawned. “Ah, yes. Fenalo has aided Nasume indirectly by allowing unrest to spread to his kingdom, but none of our reports suggest he is actively supporting Nasume’s campaign.”

“I’m not surprised,” Maseo said. “Their relationship has always been strained, though they maintain the appearance of a familial alliance.”

“As long as Fenalo does not take up arms against Valzerna, I have no quarrel with him. I find him an annoyance based on our previous interactions, but it is not his fault he shares blood with Nasume, any more than it is yours.”

Maseo nodded. “That seems reasonable.”

Kitsuki studied him, noting the slight reservation in his expression. “I sense there is more you wish to say.”

“I have no proof, but I have misgivings about my uncle. But I admit I’m biased because he always treated me poorly, viewing me as a stain on the royal bloodline. I learned a long time ago not to trust him.”

Sympathy stirred within Kitsuki. “I understand your concerns. But unlike my father, I have little interest in being a warlord. Maintaining peace throughout Talwyn better suits my temperament and vision for Valzerna’s future. However, if Fenalo becomes an issue, we will address it then.”

“You are a formidable warrior and leader,” Maseo said, his voice warm with admiration. “But I respect that peace is always your goal. It is unfortunate that Nasume stands between us and that.”

“Not for long,” Kitsuki assured him, taking quiet satisfaction in the way Maseo’s shoulders relaxed at his words.

A moment of companionable silence fell between them. Maseo appeared on the verge of speaking again, his lips parting before he seemed to reconsider. He stood up and gave a respectful bow. “I’m sorry, I should let you rest. Thank you for your reassurance. It means more than I can express.”

“Sleep well, Maseo,” Kitsuki replied, watching as the half-wolf shifter left.

His dragon struggled against his control, demanding they call Maseo back. Kitsuki held firm, his hands gripping the arms of his chair until his knuckles whitened with the effort of restraint.

The emptiness of the tent seemed to mock him, emphasizing the solitude that came with his crown and his choices.

We should have told him, his dragon lamented.We should have explained what the trinity bond means to us.

“It is not the right time,” Kitsuki murmured, though the words felt hollow even to his own ears.

He needs us now more than ever, his dragon accused.Our need for him grows stronger with each passing day, with each battle we fight alongside him, with each moment we spend in his presence.

Kitsuki rose from his chair, pacing the length of the tent. “He must stay focused on the battles ahead. I will not discuss this further.”

His dragon retreated to sulk, but the dissatisfaction and longing remained, a constant undercurrent beneath Kitsuki’s calm composure. He returned to the maps spread across the table, forcing himself to focus on the coming campaign, on the strategic approach to Norello, on anything but the ache that had taken root in his chest.

The success of Norkon’s mission had brought them a step closer to the day Maseo would face his father, as Kizoshi had foretold. Another step closer to the end of the conflict.

Kitsuki refocused his attention on more pressing matters. They had overcome one obstacle in dismantling the Deathward Constellation, but Nasume’s necromancy remained a threat. The desecrated graveyard, the bones arranged in patterns of dark power, and the mysterious shadow figure that had vanished from sight all pointed to dangers yet to be faced.