“And what was it?”

“An amazing night of fucking with a one-hundred-and fifty-four-year-old woman.”

Frederik froze and slowly looked up at Celyn. “Pardon?” “She didn’t mention that?”

“No. Her age never came up.”

“Elina’s her younger sister. She’s a hundred and forty-five.”

“I had sex with an old woman?”

“No. You had sex with a Daughter of the Steppes, and you should be grateful.” Celyn grinned, and he knew his grin was wide. “I know I am.” He bit into the fruit, decided he didn’t like the taste, and tossed it back into the bowl. “Speaking of which, have you seen Elina?”

“I saw her heading toward the training area with her bow.”

“Of course.” He patted Frederik’s shoulder. “Don’t fret. Kachka won’t be considered an old woman by her people for quite a few more centuries. And in a few days, this will all be just a glorious memory for you.”

Celyn walked out of the Great Hall and down the stairs into the courtyard. That’s where Gwenvael caught his arm and yanked him around.

“You need to keep your Rider females from my lady’s sight today.”

“First off,” Celyn stated calmly, “get your claws off me.”

“Listen, Low Born, don’t—”

“Second, I will cut that pretty face of yours.”

Gwenvael gasped and stepped away. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“So deep even your sister won’t be able to heal the scars.”

“Bastard!”

“Now what’s the problem?”

“Your whorish Riders—”

“Watch it. I’m a Cadwaladr, raised by Ghleanna the Decimator herself. I always have a blade at the ready.”

“Fine then. Kachka Shestakova fucked Frederik Reinholdt.”

“And?”

“Dagmar is not happy.”

“What does any of this have to do with the Shestakova sisters?”

“While her only son is with your father, Frederik is all Dagmar has. She still sees him as her little orphan nephew.”

“His father may be quite the bastard, but Frederik is not an orphan. Plus he’s past his twenty-third winter, six-four, and well over two hundred pounds.”

“And he’s still her little orphan nephew!” the dragon bellowed.

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Just get the Riders out of Dagmar’s sight. Right now I’ve got her holed up in her study with her weird little assistant for the next few hours. It would be nice if when she comes out for luncheon, reminders of her nephew’s lost innocence were removed.”

“He wasn’t a virgin.”

“I’m guessing that compared to what he’d had before Kachka Shestakova . . . he might as well have been.”

Celyn was about to argue the point until he shrugged and nodded, realizing his idiot cousin was right.

“Just get them out of here for a day. Maybe two.”

“And where, exactly, do you want me to take them?”

“Your father is going back to his house and taking Var. Let the sisters go with them. They can keep an eye on the boy.”

“I’m surprised Dagmar’s not sending you to watch out for Var yourself.”

“She tried, but unlike my mate, I’m confident he’ll be just fine under your father’s boring care. But your Riders will be great protection with their bows and bad manners.”

“I don’t know why you’re being so mean to them,” Celyn chastised. “Kachka herself told me that you’d fetch nearly a kingdom of gold among the tribes for your good looks.”

Gwenvael grinned. “Really?” He shrugged. “Well . . . I am beautiful.”

“And I’ll still happily slice that pretty face right open.”

“Stop saying that! Bastard. Just get your women out!”

“Only one is my woman,” Celyn barked back. Then he grinned, realizing the meaning of his statement. “Aye. One is my woman.”

“And surprise. She’s not Izzy.”

Celyn had his blade out, but Gwenvael immediately covered his face with both his arms.

“You cover your face but leave all your major organs exposed?” Celyn demanded, disgusted by his royal cousin. Always so disgusted.

“I’m protecting the most important thing about me besides my hair.” Gwenvael peeked around his arms. “According to castle rumor, it is worth a kingdom of gold.”

Celyn rolled his eyes, already regretting telling Gwenvael that, and tucked his sword back into its sheath. “You are pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.”

“But I am handsome.”

A young squire placed more arrows in Elina’s quiver and then brought a bucket filled with even more arrows, which he placed at her feet.

She nodded her thanks and nocked another arrow, waiting as a second squire moved in a new target since the last one was now covered in the arrows she’d already unleashed.

It was hard going, adjusting to the loss of her eye. But she was glad to see her aim getting better with each arrow shot.

“Elina?” Fearghus asked as he moved next to her from her sighted side. “Have you seen Annwyl this morning?”

She nodded at Fearghus’s question. “I have. She was standing in the courtyard, staring off toward the trees.” She gestured with her bow. “She seemed . . . preoccupied.”