“Brigida ordered me to.” Ghleanna shrugged. “And I don’t want to be a lizard. She can turn anyone into a lizard.”
“I understand not wanting to be a lizard, Ghleanna, but still—”
“Look, a good war cleans out the weak.” She tapped Braith’s chest. “You should come with us to battle. I heard what you did to those Lightnings.”
“Your brother says I have a way with hammers.”
“You should talk to our older brother Rhys then. His name is Rhys the Hammer. He only fights with hammers. He’d get you set up with a nice one.” She pushed her short, black hair off her face. “You in love with my brother, Braith?”
“Rhys? I barely know him.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass, royal.”
“Don’t ask me personal questions, Low Born.”
Ghleanna pointed a finger at Braith. “You better be in love with my brother.”
“You’re ordering me to love your brother?”
“I won’t have his gods-damn heart broken because of you!”
Braith faced her. “Heart broken?” She straightened her back. “Over me?”
“Of course over you,” Ghleanna barked, punctuating it by placing both hands against Braith’s shoulders and shoving.
“Well, he never told me,” Braith snapped and pushed back.
“Maybe you’re just not paying attention, royal.” Shove.
“And maybe you’re just assuming, Low Born.” Shove back.
Ghleanna stopped, sniffed the air. “Oh,” she said, smiling, “my brother’s coming this way. Maybe we’ll just go ask—”
Braith didn’t let her finish. She grabbed the She-dragon by her face and flung her toward the closed back doors of the horse stalls. Ghleanna’s body rammed into and through the wooden doors, landing in the woods on the other side.
By the time Braith turned back around, Addolgar was walking into the stalls from the other open doors.
“There you are,” he said. “Hungry? Food’s on, but you’ll have to move fast or miss out. The Cadwaladrs will descend on that table in a matter of minutes.”
“All right.”
Addolgar studied the damaged back doors. “What happened over there?”
“Got me.”
Braith headed out, but as she crossed the courtyard, Addolgar caught up to her and took her hand into his.
“Addolgar?” she said as they neared the steps.
“Mhmm?”
Braith opened her mouth to tell him what she was feeling but quickly closed it again. She couldn’t. Not without knowing how he really felt. She refused to make a fool of herself.
“What is it?” he pushed.
“My aunts,” she decided to tell him, “want me to come back with them. For a little while. Get to know them and the cousins a bit.”
“Good,” he said. He smiled, his hand briefly squeezing hers. “It’s become painfully obvious to me what you’ve been missing all these years is being with your Penarddun kin. You belong with them.”
“I do.” They reached the stairs, and Braith took the opportunity to pull her hand away. “And what about you?”
“Probably with Bercelak to fight the Lightnings. The three of us—me, Bercelak, and Ghleanna—fight well together.”
“Excellent.” She patted his shoulder before turning and walking up the stairs. As Braith entered the Main Hall, a cheer went up from her kin. Most likely because someone had broken out the ale.
“There she is!” Crystin announced, now comfortably situated on her mate’s lap. “Ailean, you should have seen our girl. Fights just like her mum. Full of ruthless rage and uncontrollable brutality.”
“Would have brought a tear to my eye . . . if I hadn’t been bleeding from it at the time,” Aledwen tossed in.
“Oh, look,” Owena stated, waving toward the door. “It’s The Mountain!”
Addolgar let out a sigh and, cringing, Braith looked up at him and mouthed, Sorry.
“He’ll be coming with us tomorrow, too, Shalin,” Crystin said to Addolgar’s mother. “But don’t worry. We’ll take care of him like he’s one of our own.”
“Hopefully not like one of your own sons,” Shalin muttered.
“It’s not like we kill the males at hatching, so I don’t know why you’re complaining,” Owena snapped.
“And we know they’re around somewhere,” Crystin explained. “I’m sure our sons are fine . . . wherever they are.”
“Don’t worry,” Crystin’s mate explained, his big hand around a pint of ale. “There’s always a male around to train them since the females have no interest.”
Braith stepped up to the table and explained to her kin, “Actually, Addolgar’s not coming with us. He’s going with Bercelak into the Northlands.”
Addolgar pulled out a chair and sat down. Braith began to do the same, but Addolgar’s arm went around her waist and he pulled her onto his lap.
“It’ll take a few weeks for Bercelak to get all the troops and supplies he’ll need together,” he told her. “Until then, I’ll be with you.”
“Oh. All right then.”
This wasn’t what Braith had expected. She’d wanted a clean ending. Not this lingering thing where she would only manage to get more and more attached until she wouldn’t ever be able to let him go.