That Annwyl didn’t seem so great to Kachka. To blame Elina for any of this was beyond ridiculous. Who would do that?

Kachka looked up to see the queen, now dressed for travel, with a travel pack on her back and weapons around her waist, heading toward the stairs. The silver-haired male was right beside her, and they were clearly arguing.

When the queen reached the top of the stairs, the man grabbed her arm to halt her, and Kachka wondered if this was the king of these lands. Who else would put their hands on a royal? And something about him screamed haughty.

But then that queen turned and kicked the silver-haired man in the knee. It was a hard kick, meant to shatter, but the male merely hissed in pain and released her. She made it down the stairs, but the man caught up with her again. He grabbed her around the waist and she brought her elbow back, hitting him right in the face. Blood immediately poured from his nose, but this time he kept his grip.

He lifted the queen off the ground and started to take her back toward the steps, but she pulled out a dagger she had sheathed at her side and rammed it into his thigh.

He dropped her then and stumbled back.

Readjusting her travel pack, she started for the hall doors. But two more males rushed in from the courtyard. One was big like a bear and had blue hair. Wait. Blue hair? The other was like a golden god, and Kachka knew he would be in great demand among the worthy warriors in need of husbands.

The two men stopped in front of the queen, hands up.

“Annwyl,” the golden one warned, “don’t make us hurt you.”

In reply, the queen cracked her neck, lowered her head, and snarled—like an animal. The golden one immediately stepped back. “Nope. I’m much too pretty for this. You handle her,” he told the bear.

“Why do I have to do it?” the enormous man asked, panic in his low voice. “I’m pretty, too!”

“Well, where the hell is Fearghus?”

“Not as close as we’d like.”

“Move!” the queen bellowed, startling Elina out of her self-pity.

She spun around. “What’s happening?” she asked Kachka.

“I have no idea. But it’s fascinating.”

“Annwyl . . .” the golden one tried. “Be reasonable.”

The queen unsheathed the sword at her side, and the golden one immediately turned away, hands up to cover his head. “Not the face!” he begged. “Not the face!”

“I have to agree with him,” Kachka said low to her sister. “Not that face. It is beautiful.”

“He’s a dragon, too.”

Kachka scratched her head. “By the horse gods, they’re everywhere.”

The bear—another dragon, Kachka would guess—stepped in front of Annwyl, his big hands on her shoulders, his face turned away, his eyes closed tight.

“Please, Annwyl!” the bear begged. “Please just calm down!”

“Look!” the queen yelled, her arm swinging out toward Kachka and Elina. “Look what that bitch did to her!”

The two males and Annwyl looked over at Elina, and Kachka and her sister glanced at each other, then behind them. They didn’t see anyone back there so Kachka quickly realized Annwyl was talking about Elina.

“Me?” Elina said, pointing at her chest.

“I will not let this go unanswered!” the queen raged.

“I know you’re upset, Annwyl,” the bear went on, “but let’s wait until Dagmar or Bram gets here. Then we can all sit down and discuss the best course of—”

The queen, clearly not liking what she was hearing, grabbed the bear by his blue hair and yanked him down and around.

“Owwwwwwwwwwwwww!”

She stepped past the bear and out the doors.

Kachka turned to Elina, about to say something, when she heard the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh. The queen stumbled back into the hall and a tall, brown-skinned woman followed her in. The queen was stunned by the first hit, and before she could take a swing of her own, the brown-skinned woman punched her in the face again, then once more. The third hit landed the queen on her back, and the brown-skinned woman shook out her hand. “Her bloody jaw is like granite!”

Celyn rushed in with another woman who resembled him greatly but who had shorter black hair. He stopped right in the doorway and looked down at the queen.

“Tell me I did that for a good reason,” the brown-skinned woman growled.

“You probably prevented a war. So . . . good job, Iz!”

“I think I broke my hand.”

“Don’t whine,” he said, rushing over to Elina and Kachka. “Are you two all right?”

“Are they all right?” the silver-haired one demanded as he bled heavily from his leg wound. “What about me?”

“Is all this because of me?” Elina asked, pointing at the queen.

Celyn shrugged. “Annwyl has issues with . . . family. She didn’t really get along with her father. Or her brother.” He glanced back at the silver-haired male but quickly turned away, not appearing interested in that one’s plight at all. “I had a feeling she would react this way once she found out Glebovicha was your mother.”

“Gods,” the bear said loudly, “she’s waking up!”

“Don’t just stand there, you idiots!” the gold one yelled. “Get some chains!”

“Chains will never hold her,” the brown-skinned girl nearly screamed. “Let’s make a run for it!”