“Mornin’, Aunt Dagmar,” Talan murmured around her food. Only eighteen and his voice was no more than a low rumble of sound. It had been that way since he was twelve. Something that still disturbed her a bit.

“Talan.”

“Anything interesting in there?” he asked, trying to see the documents she was reviewing.

Dagmar placed her arm over the parchment, stared her nephew directly in those black eyes. “Nothing for you to see, I assure you.”

His grin was disturbingly wicked for someone so young. A smile that his sister only had when weapons were involved.

“What’s all this about?” Talwyn asked, motioning down the table with her apple.

“Rhi is going to be spending the day with young Albrecht.”

“What?” Talwyn looked at Rhi. “Oy!”

Rhi let out a breath and Dagmar knew the girl was steeling herself. The connection between the twins and Rhi was unbelievably strong. But the arguing . . .

Gods. The arguing.

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She slowly faced her cousin. “Aye?”

“What’s this about the Pombray brat?”

“This has nothing to do with you, Talwyn. Stay out of it.”

“I won’t stay out of it.” Talwyn looked to her uncle. “And you’re all right with this?”

“I’ve given my permission.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I have to admit,” Briec said, “I liked it better when you didn’t speak.”

“Back off, Talwyn.” And that came from Talan. Brother and sister looked at each other and Dagmar instinctively leaned back in her chair. Of course Frederik, oblivious as always, leaned closer to the table so that he could study the plate of food one of the servants had placed in front of him. What exactly did he expect to see? Besides eggs and slabs of meat?

“Stay out of it, Talan.”

“Leave her alone, sister.”

“You don’t tell me what to do, brother.”

“If she wants to spend time with Pombray—”

“You may think it’s quite all right to stick your c**k in anything that moves—”

“What does my c**k have to do with anything?”

“—but I don’t trust Pombray or his son and I won’t have her spending time with any of them.”

“It’s none of your bloody business, sister. Lay off.”

“Make me.”

Rhi stamped her foot, her frustration evident and clearly growing. Once again, her cousins’ bickering was getting between her and her enjoyment. Something she’d grown less and less tolerant of the last couple of years or so. “Both of you, stop it!”

But it was too late. Brother and sister had locked on each other, both of them getting to their feet, hands moving toward the weapons they kept on them at all times.

“I mean it,” Rhi tried again. “Stop it!”

Dagmar quickly got out of her chair, her papers held against her chest. But as she started to move away, she realized Frederik was still sitting there, toying with some bacon. Completely oblivious. She was reaching for him when a large hand she knew so well reached past her, grabbed the boy by the back of his cotton shirt and yanked him from the chair.

Dagmar stumbled into the wall, nodding her appreciation up at her mate, who still held the boy in his arms.

“I leave you alone for five minutes,” he quietly joked.

She pressed into Gwenvael the Handsome’s side. “I know. I simply can’t be trusted on my own.”

“Tragically weak female.”

He winked at her, but then the twins were up on the table and charging each other, short swords unsheathed.

Rhi slammed her foot against the ground again and screamed out, “Stop it!”

And, her mouth open in shock, Dagmar watched as Talan was flung into the wall and Talwyn flung right across the Great Hall and out the doors.

“Huh,” Gwenvael said. “That’s new.”

Dagmar shook off her surprise and quickly said to Frederik, “You didn’t see any of that. Understand me?”

“Didn’t see what?” the boy asked.

Dagmar wanted to believe Frederik had caught on quickly, but she actually knew he was just painfully clueless.

After they stabled their horses, Brannie had headed off to one of the nearby lakes where many of her dragon kin camped whenever they came to visit or protect Garbhán Isle. According to Éibhear, the three other Mì-runach had stayed in town to spend time at one of the pubs while Izzy and Éibhear walked to the castle.

They were cutting through the courtyard, nearing the steps that would take them to the Great Hall, when Éibhear abruptly stopped, his head tipping to the side. Izzy stopped as well. The dragon had the best hearing she’d ever known and if he thought he heard something—

His arm slipped around her waist and he yanked her out of the way just as a loud bang echoed out from the Great Hall and something exploded through the doorway.

They watched that something shoot past them and slam into one of the nearby buildings. When it landed, Izzy sighed. “Talwyn.”

“Good gods!” Éibhear exclaimed. Then he added, “She’s gotten tall.”

“That she has.”

“Do you think Talan did this?”

“I don’t know. I usually find them entangled in a pit fight, not throwing each other around.”

They became quiet and that’s when Izzy realized that Éibhear’s arm was still around her waist. She looked down at his arm and then up at him. He smiled at her until she murmured, “Someone’s a naughty uncle.” Then he couldn’t release her fast enough.




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