Fearghus sniffed. “Two years and no word from her. And she’ll come back like none of it happened.”
“You know how Keita is. She blocked us all, even Éibhear.”
“Yes, but it’s not like she’s Gwenvael.”
“Because we actually care if she’s dead or alive?”
“Exactly.”
“You two do know I’m right here?” Dagmar asked.
“It’s not whether we know you’re here or not,” Briec explained. “It’s whether we care that you’re here or not. And, I’m sure to your surprise, tiny crushable human, we actually don’t. Care, that is.” Dagmar adjusted her spectacles. “Actually what surprises me is that Talaith has not killed you in your sleep yet.” Briec grinned while Fearghus laughed. “Aye. It amazes her as well.”
Chapter Eight
They were still in the Outerplains when they took their first break in the afternoon. It should have been only a quick break of thirty minutes or less, but the princess shifted to human and put on a dress, which was strange enough. Then she dug into Ragnar’s bag and threw his chain-mail leggings and shirt at him. “Get dressed,” she ordered.
“Why?”
“Don’t question—just do.” She grinned and walked off. Ragnar kept on eating the dried meat from his bag until Vigholf shoved him with his shoulder. “Go on then.”
“Go on where?”
“Wherever she’s going. Don’t be an idiot.”
“I’ve got more important—”
Now Meinhard shoved his other shoulder. “Go. We’ll be here when you get back.”
“We need to leave.”
“Would an extra half hour really kill you, brother?” Vigholf motioned toward the royal, smiling. “Go. She’s waiting.” Knowing this was a waste of time but sure his kin wouldn’t let it go until he’d followed after the female like a needy puppy, Ragnar shifted to human and pulled on his leggings and shirt. He also added a sword strapped to his back, several daggers in his boots, and a hooded cape to hide his hair.
Once dressed, he set off after Her Highness and found her leaning against a tree less than a half mile away.
“Took you long enough,” she complained, then latched onto his arm and started off.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. It’s not far.” She glanced up at him. “You look so tense.
All that stress can’t be good for you.”
“I always look tense; it doesn’t mean I am.”
“But you have such a handsome face. Why waste it scowling all the time?”
Ragnar stopped, the princess stopping with him since she was holding on to him. “What are you up to?”
“I’m taking you for a walk.”
“Why?”
“You don’t want to walk with me?”
He didn’t answer, and she said, “I’ll make it easy for you.” She slipped her small hand into his, their fingers interlacing. “Now you can’t get away,” she murmured, and he realized that she was right.
They reached the clearing Keita had caught sight of when they were flying over the area, and she grinned up at the warlord. He, however, was busy rolling his eyes and looking as if he wanted to wish himself a million miles away.
“Oh, come on. A few minutes. What could it hurt?”
“I am in no mood for a fair, princess.”
“I still hear prince-ass, but no bother.” She tugged on his arm again, not stopping until he began to walk with her.
“I adore fairs,” Keita told him as they got closer. A juggler jumped in front of them, tossing several clubs in the air. “They’re so much fun!”
“And I can tell we’re getting closer to the Southlands.”
“Don’t you have fairs in the North?”
“No.”
“You should. A fair is a wonderful thing for humans. They don’t get enough entertainment in my estimation.”
“You’re quite the human lover.”
“I wasn’t always,” she admitted. “I could sometimes be quite cruel.
Especially to the men. And I nearly destroyed an entire village once. I don’t even think I was seventy-five winters yet.”
“Why?”
“The leader of their village wanted to use me as a protector by chaining me. And not in a fun way, either, but like some guard dog. Me! A dragoness of the royal bloodline. I made my point, though, and received a spiffy new name to go along with it. I doubt that the few humans left alive—mostly women and children—ever tried that again with some other dragon.”
“Most likely not.”
“But I realized later they were simply trying to protect their village, their people. It’s not any more or less than we do; it was just handled badly by those in charge. Over time, I began to realize it’s sometimes all about leadership and who rules. A bad ruler can put the most kind and wonderful people into a very horrible situation they don’t know how to get out of.”
“Is that why you didn’t destroy Bampour’s fortress?” She nodded. “Why make all those people suffer because of their bad ruler?” Keita winked at the juggler, and they walked around and headed to the stalls selling everything from food to clothes to weapons. “These days, with most humans, I’m more like my grandfather, Ailean the Beautiful.”