“Ailean?”
“We can’t take these. It’s probably all Bram has.”
“You mean except for all those cases he has in the library closet?”
“He has cases of my grandfather’s ale?”
“Aye.”
“That stingy bastard. It never occurred to him to share?”
Izzy took the bottles back and placed them on the table. “Apparently not with you.”
“This isn’t to be wasted on the meal,” he said, moving the bottles away from the plates and moving a carafe of water closer.
“If it’s not for the meal, then what’s it for?”
Éibhear grinned. “Dessert.”
“Have you talked to Talwyn?”
Talaith watched her friend. Annwyl had been so quiet lately. Not like her. It wasn’t so much that she was a boisterous monarch. She wasn’t. But she wasn’t so quiet either. So removed. It was like she was waiting for the other boot to drop.
And maybe she was right to be feeling that way. Although Talaith had her own concerns with her child, the Kyvich weren’t one of them. As mortal enemies of her Nolwenn sisters since the beginning of time—at least that’s what she’d been told from birth—the Kyvich tolerated the presence of her daughter but didn’t engage her.
Although the last couple of years, the leader of the Kyvich squad would sometimes watch Rhi. Not as she watched Talwyn, with pure calculation. Instead, Talaith saw concern on the commander’s hard face. Which worsened as Rhi’s power became more and more obvious.
Ásta saw Rhi as a threat, of that Talaith was sure. Another reason why Talaith was beginning to think that sending her young daughter to the south might be the best answer for all.
“Talk to her about what?”
“About her relationship with that Kyvich bitch?”
“What is there to discuss? Ásta and the others are her protectors. Of course she’ll feel close to them. They were here when I wasn’t.”
“Don’t,” Talaith said, pointing a finger. “Don’t you dare go down that winding road, my friend. Sacrifices were made those years by us all—and for damn good reasons. So I won’t hear you put yourself down or elevate those cunts because of what you had to do to protect your children. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, yes, you do,” the Southland Queen said quickly, her lips twitching as she tried not to smile.
“Good, good. Now if you want, when Izzy gets back we can talk to them both together.”
“Gets back from where?”
“She went to Bram’s home to get some documents he forgot. That dragon would forget his head if it wasn’t attached.”“She went to . . .” Annwyl snorted a little, looked off.
“What?”
The queen rubbed her nose, shook her head. “Nothing.”
“What?” Talaith pushed, her butt wiggling in her chair. “Tell me!”
“I, uh, asked that boy, Dagmar’s nephew, if Éibhear was coming to evening meal tonight and he said he was going to Bram’s castle for some reason. He didn’t know why. I just assumed Bram forgot something again.”
“Does . . . Izzy know that?”
“Doubt it.”
Talaith stared at her friend until they both began laughing, so hard and loud that Talaith began to cough and Annwyl cry. It was so bad, Briec walked in, watched them for a few moments, then walked out again, slamming the door behind him.
Chapter 16
Izzy pushed her empty plate away and, realizing she couldn’t avoid it anymore, lifted her gaze to the dragon sitting quietly to her left.
“All right, fine,” she finally admitted. “It was amazing.”
Éibhear patted her hand. “I know that hurt to admit.”
Swatting at him, Izzy pushed her chair back, stood, and turned so that she could sit on the table, her legs hanging over.
“Do you have something against chairs?”
“They’re confining.”
“So’s the army.”
“That’s a confinement I’ve never minded.” She pulled one leg up, tucking the heel against her inside thigh, her body turned enough to look at Éibhear. “Truly, though, that was delicious.”
His smile full of pride, Éibhear nodded. “Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now, maybe you can tell me what the battle-fuck is going on.”
Éibhear watched Izzy’s defenses immediately come up. Like giant brick walls. “Going on about what?”
“I’ll admit, I’ve not been part of the day-to-day of my kin in quite some time. But I know when something is going on, Izzy. That, I’m afraid, has not changed. And something is going on. And I think you know it.”
“Is that why you followed me here? Because you think you can bully me into telling you that which my father and uncles will not?”
“I would never try to bully you to do anything. I would, however, try to cajole and lure. Perhaps lull . . .” He thought a moment. “Is that wrong?”
She stared at him, but did not answer.
“I promise,” he went on, feeling a sense of hope from the small smile he saw, “the last thing I’m trying to do is bully you or anyone else. But I want to know what’s going on. It’s clearly upsetting you and worrying my brothers. My brothers don’t worry about anything. They’re soulless bastards. I love them,” he added, “but they’re soulless bastards.”