Brigida shook her head, a little disgusted. “I understand now. Just like your father, ain’t’ cha?”

“Now, now. There’s no need to be rude.”

“You two unleash your females upon the world, grinning as you do so, and the rest of us need to clean up the nightmare they create.” Her eyes narrowed. “But then . . . why did you allow that Northland female to . . . ?”

She snorted and slowly stepped away from Fearghus and the wide grin that had spread across his face. “You are smart, aren’t you, future king? Enough in you of your father and your mother to make you much more interesting than I first thought. You let the world believe there’s a collar on your mad dog so they all get close. Then they find out too late . . . that collar is nothing but an illusion. An illusion you orchestrated so that you can watch the carnage that comes after.

“They were right about you, Fearghus the Destroyer. Them villagers that you wiped from the earth all those years ago to get your name. You are a mean-hearted bastard.”

“Oy! Hag!” Annwyl snarled from the bed. “Think this mad dog can get her wounds tended? Sometime this year perhaps?”

Fearghus, happy to see Annwyl awake and alert, grinned again.

That’s when Brigida hissed at him like a coiled snake. “Just like your father.”

After a short nap, Elina walked down to the Great Hall. She stopped on the last step and watched her sister drag two wild boars toward the kitchens.

They nodded at each other as Kachka passed; then Elina walked to the table—stepping over the double lines of boar’s blood on the floor—and poured herself a chalice of wine.

“Where’s the boy?” a voice asked from behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Bercelak, decided he wasn’t that interesting, and went back to sipping her wine.

“Well?” the dragon in human form pushed.

“I am not his keeper, dragon.”

“Aren’t you his female now? Heard you two have been defiling the fur coverings together.”

Elina faced Bercelak. “His female? I am no one’s female. I am Daughter of—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just need to know where he is.”

“I do not know. And I do not think I like you.”

“I let you live, didn’t I? After you tried to kill my mate.”

Elina thought on that for a moment, then nodded. “What you speak is true, dragon.”

“What?”

“You are right. I came here to kill your queen. The fact I failed means nothing. So you letting me live . . . very generous. I will never forget that.”

“Oh,” he said, his frown suggesting he was confused. “All right.”

She motioned to her chalice. “Wine?”

“No. Uh . . . thank you.”

They stood in silence for several minutes until Bercelak said, “Tell the boy I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Why leave when we can keep staring at each other in awkward silence?”

“Uh . . . I . . .” With a brisk shake of his head, the dragon walked out.

“Who was that?” Kachka asked as she returned to the hall and took the chalice from Elina’s hand, finishing off the wine.

“Bercelak, the Dragon Queen’s husband.”

“What did he want?”

“Celyn. He called me Celyn’s female.”

“Did you punch him in the face for that?”

“Thought about it.”

“Maybe you should get used to it,” Kachka said in their own language.

“Why?”

“We are in Southland territories now. They seem to think the females belong to the males here rather than the way the gods truly intended it.”

Kachka waved the empty chalice at her and Elina poured her more wine.

“We have to face the fact, Elina, that we can’t go back to our lives on the Steppes. Whether Glebovicha has her eyes or not.”

“Glebovicha is dead.”

“The queen didn’t say that.”

“From what I’ve heard of Annwyl the Bloody all these years, she’s not one for leaving her enemies alive and blind. More like she took Glebovicha’s head and dug the eyes from them afterward.”

Kachka shrugged. “Does it matter anymore? Whatever has happened, whatever alliance this queen has in place, means nothing to our situation. We can never go back again. Our people will never trust us now.”

Frustrated, Elina tore off her eye patch and rubbed her damaged face with the palm of her hand.

“Are you . . . crying?”

Elina’s head snapped up. “Have you become as insane as the queen?”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Sometimes it feels like my eye is still there. But when I close the other one, to kind of test my theory, all I see is darkness. That’s when my face, from the scars on my forehead to under my chin, begins to itch like a demon. Sometimes I can’t stand it,” she snarled, rubbing her face harder and harder until Kachka caught her hand, held it. She finally pulled Elina’s hand away but still clutched it in her own.

“Do you know why, sister, I have no husbands?”

“You were waiting for perfect, perfect love, like the Southlanders do?”

“Do you want to hear this or not?” Kachka barked.

“Sorry.”

“With my record in battle, I could have at least ten husbands by now. But I choose none, because I knew that once I had one husband or a thousand, and the first child was born—I would be trapped there. In my heart, I’ve always felt there was more out here for us. For both of us. And perhaps, we will find it among these decadent, lazy imperialist dogs.”