Tharon

THARON

T he throne room opened before us, late-afternoon sunlight streaming through towering windows. Guards lined the approach, their ceremonial armor gleaming.

But this moment belonged to Niam.

She walked beside me with quiet grace, the blue silk of her dress whispering against marble floors. So different from my memories of past formal audiences - the rigid ceremony, the barely concealed political maneuvering. Niam brought something new, something real.

“My father is anxious to meet you,” I murmured as we approached the grand doors.

She straightened her back. “Then let’s not keep him waiting.”

The herald’s staff struck the floor three times, silencing the gathered nobles. “His Royal Highness Prince and his chosen mate, Lady Niam of Terr!”

King Sarl sat straight-backed on the throne despite his illness, silver-streaked hair bound in formal warrior braids. The crown of Zashi rested heavy on his brow, but his eyes remained sharp as he studied us.

“Welcome home, my son.” His gaze shifted to Niam. “And welcome, Lady Niam. We have heard much of your deeds.”

She sank into a graceful curtsy. “Your Majesty honors me.”

“Rise.” Father’s voice carried easily through the hall. “Tell me, what brings a daughter of Terr to seek her fate among the Shakai?”

My beast growled at the implied challenge, but Niam’s voice rang clear and steady. “Not fate, Your Majesty. Choice. I chose to break free of the Temple’s control. I chose to trust your son when he offered aid. And I choose now to stand before you, ready to serve Zashi.”

Murmurs rippled through the watching nobles. Father’s expression remained neutral, but I caught the spark of interest in his eyes.

“Bold words.” He leaned forward slightly. “And what would you bring to Zashi as its future queen?”

“Understanding,” she answered without hesitation. “For too long, fear and mistrust have divided human and Shakai. I would build bridges between our peoples, starting with trade agreements that benefit both sides.”

“You speak of trade when the Temple has fallen?” One of the older nobles stepped forward, challenge in his bearing. “When chaos threatens Terr?”

“I speak of opportunity.” Niam met his gaze steadily. “The Temple’s fall creates a vacuum. Better to fill it with cooperation than conflict.”

The beast purred approval at her strength. Around us, I noted subtle shifts in stance, expressions changing from skepticism to consideration.

Father sat back, studying her. “And what of our traditions? Our ways?”

“I would learn them.” She smiled slightly. “Already your son teaches me the beauty in Shakai culture. The strength in your warrior traditions. The wisdom in your ways.”

“And the beast?” Another noble called. “You would mate with a Valti, knowing what we are?”

My control slipped slightly at the blatant challenge. But Niam’s hand found mine, her touch anchoring.

“The beast is part of who he is.” Her voice carried conviction. “I accept all of him - warrior and prince, man and beast. As he accepts all of me.”

Silence fell. Father rose slowly from the throne, descending the steps with measured grace. He stopped before us, power radiating despite his illness.

“You speak well, Lady Niam.” His eyes met mine briefly before returning to her. “But words are wind. Actions prove worth.”

“Then let my actions speak.” She lifted her chin. “Test me as you will. I am ready.”

The Valti roared with triumph. My brilliant, brave mate.

Father’s expression softened slightly. “Very well. The traditional trials await - duty, loyalty, leadership. Are you prepared?”

“I am.”

He nodded to the chamberlain, who stepped forward with an ancient scroll. “Then let us begin.”

The questioning lasted hours. Father and the high nobles took turns presenting scenarios, testing her judgment. Trade disputes between clans. Diplomatic relations with hostile neighbors. Internal conflicts requiring careful balance.

Through it all, Niam remained poised. Her answers showed both wisdom and practicality, drawing on her knowledge of both cultures. When she spoke of using Terr’s craft guilds to establish new trade routes through the mountains, even the most skeptical nobles nodded approval.

“Enough,” Father declared finally. “You have proven your worth, Lady Niam. Let the celebration begin!”

Servants threw open the doors to the great hall where tables groaned under the weight of traditional feast dishes. Musicians took up their instruments as nobles filed in, the formal atmosphere dissolving into celebration.

“You were amazing,” I murmured as we took our places at the high table.

She smiled, some of her tension easing. “I had a good teacher.”

As the feast progressed, the musicians shifted to a slower melody. The traditional love song’s haunting notes filled the great hall, the tale of a warrior finding his true mate beneath enemy stars.

“Dance with me.” I held my hand out to Niam.

Her eyes widened. “I don’t know your dances.”

“Then I’ll teach you.”

She placed her delicate hand in mine. The beast approved of her trust as I led her to the center of the floor. Other couples stepped back, giving us space.

“Follow my lead,” I murmured, drawing her close. One hand settled at her waist while the other clasped hers. “Step with me, like this.”

Her body molded against mine as we began to move. The silk of her dress whispered against my formal leathers. She stumbled slightly at first, but quickly found the rhythm.

“That’s it.” I guided her through a simple turn. “Let the music flow through you.”

Her natural grace emerged as she relaxed into the dance. We moved as one across the floor, her feet matching mine perfectly. The sweet scent of her hair filled my lungs with each breath.

“Everyone’s watching,” she whispered.

“Let them.” I spun her out, then pulled her back tightly into my embrace. “They see what I’ve known since I first found you - that you belong here. With me.”

A soft blush colored her cheeks as we swayed together. My beast rumbled contentedly at having her in our arms, safe and cherished.

The music swelled and I lifted her in a traditional sweep. Her startled laugh rang out as I set her down, pure joy lighting her face. Several nobles nodded approval at her quick mastery of the steps.

“See?” I pressed my forehead to hers as we continued moving. “You’re a natural.”

“Only because you’re leading.” Her fingers tightened on mine. “You make me feel...”

“What?”

“Free.” She met my gaze. “Safe. Like I can be myself, not what others expect.”

My heart clenched at her words. I’d spent years building walls, cultivating fear and respect. But this woman had slipped past every defense, claimed both man and beast.

The song drew to a close. I dipped her low, supporting her weight easily. She arched in my arms, trusting me completely.

When I drew her up, she stayed close, one hand resting over my thundering heart.

“Thank you for the dance, my prince.”

The beast stretched languidly, satisfied by her nearness.

“May I claim a dance with my new sister?” Drax appeared beside our chairs, offering his hand to Niam.

She glanced at me, eyebrow raised in question. I nodded encouragement.

“Of course.” She rose smoothly. “Though I warn you, I’m still learning Shakai dances.”

“Then I shall teach you, as Lita taught me human ones.” He led her away while I moved back to the head of the room.

“She truly is remarkable.” Father’s quiet voice drew my attention.

“She is.” Pride filled my chest watching her execute the complex steps. “More than I deserve.”

“Perhaps.” He sipped his wine thoughtfully. “Or perhaps exactly what you need. What Zashi needs.”

Before I could respond, he continued. “The crown will pass to you soon, my son. I feel it in my bones. But I go to the ancestors easier knowing you will not rule alone.”

Emotion closed my throat. “Father...”

“Let us speak of lighter things.” He waved Drax and Niam back to the table. “Tell me how you met. I sense there is quite a tale there.”

We spent the next hour sharing carefully edited highlights of our journey. Father laughed openly at Niam’s description of our first meeting, while Drax and Lita added commentary from their own experiences with the Temple.

As the evening wore on, nobles began retiring in small groups. Finally, Father rose, signaling the official end of the celebration.

“Rest well,” he told us. “Tomorrow begins your new life.”

Servants led us to our chambers - a suite in the family wing with sweeping views of the city below. As the door closed behind us, Niam sank onto a cushioned bench.

“That went well, far better than expected,” she admitted.

“You were perfect.” I knelt before her, taking her hands in mine. “But I have one more tradition to observe.”

From my pocket I drew a small box carved from mountain heartwood. “Among our people, new mates exchange gifts representing their bond.”

She opened it carefully to reveal a delicate chain supporting a pendant of deepest blue - the same color as the mountain twilight when we first kissed.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“The stone comes from the highest peaks.” I fastened it around her neck. “Where few dare to climb. Like you, it appears delicate but holds incredible strength.”

Her fingers traced the pendant. “Thank you.”

I cupped her face in my hands. “Thank you for choosing me. For choosing us.”

Turning her head slightly, she kissed my palm. “Always.”