Authors: G. A. Aiken
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Romance, #dragons
Really? Now there had to be proper introductions to servants? But Keita didn’t want to argue any more with her siblings. Even Gwenvael. “Nice to meet you, Dagmar. You can call me Lady Keita.”
That seemed to make Ragnar laugh harder, when the dragon rarely laughed at all. He especially didn’t laugh like this.
“
What
is so funny?” she demanded.
“Dagmar Reinholdt,” her brother said again, as if she hadn’t understood him the first damn time. “Thirteenth Offspring of The Reinholdt, Only Daughter of The Reinholdt, Chief Battle Lord of Dark Plains, Adviser to Queen Annwyl, Human Liaison to the Southland Dragon Elders, and my
mate.
”
Oh.
Shit.
Oh, shit!
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Pulling from nearly two centuries of royal training, Keita broke out her most dazzling smile. “Of course she is!” she said with a laugh. “I was merely teasing.”
She went back up several steps until she was close enough to the Northland warlord’s daughter. Keita grasped one of the human’s tiny hands between her own. “I am so glad to meet you, my Lady Dagmar! It’s taken far too long for us to meet.”
“It has,” the human said. For the first time, Keita noticed that the female wore little round pieces of glass held between two wires that she had perched on her nose. Whatever for? Was she blind? “I’ve heard so much about you and have longed to meet you. You are truly as beautiful as all the
many
men throughout the land have said.”
Another laugh escaped the barbarian dragon, and Keita briefly thought about flipping him over the stair banister. “And you are,” Keita said in return, “well…
you
. And I’m sure you’re the best you that you can be.”
At this point, Ren now headed back into the castle and Gwenvael forced the two females’ hands apart.
“All right then!” her brother said with an obscene amount of forced cheer. “That’s enough greeting, don’t you think?”
He turned his mate toward the doors and shoved Keita back down the stairs. Keita barely kept her snarl in—and on her feet—but before she could stomp away, the human maneuvered around Gwenvael and said, “Oh, my Lady Keita, one other thing.”
Keita stopped and faced her, keeping that cheery smile on her face. “Aye?”
“Dogs…off limits.”
“Are they now?”
“If you hadn’t heard, it’s a rule of the land. And I’d hate to see you get into trouble over it with your mother.”
“My mother?” Keita asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. “My mother agreed to a law banning the eating of dogs?” The same dragoness who wouldn’t even agree to a written ban on the eating of humans? Instead she felt it was something her dragon subjects should simply know not to do “unless they can get away with it.”
“In fact, she agreed happily.”
Knowing when she was beat, at least in one area, Keita said, “Of course. The gods know I wouldn’t want to go against my mother.”
“Then I’m sure we won’t have any problems.”
Normally Keita would argue the point, but she was starting to feel terrible about the whole thing and decided it was best to simply walk away.
Reaching up, she caught hold of Ragnar’s hand and pulled him off toward the gate’s east-side exit. And it wasn’t until they’d gone about twenty feet or so that Keita heard the warlord’s daughter snap, “Canute!”
She and Ragnar stopped walking and looked behind them. The dog that had been with Lady Dagmar now stood behind them. He dropped his bone and pushed it toward Keita with his snout. Lifting his massive head, his tongue hanging out, he grinned at her.
“Ohhh,” Keita exclaimed. “Aren’t you sweet?” But before she could pat the dog’s head, Ragnar yanked her away, sniffing in disgust.
“Well, don’t get mad at me,” she argued. “Is it my fault males always want to give me things?”
Ragnar got as far as a copse of trees outside the fortress walls before he decided to stop and face the princess. She gazed up at him with those brown eyes and asked, “That went badly, didn’t it?”
And that’s when the laughter started all over again. So bad, he couldn’t stop. He just sat down in the grass and let the laughter roll right through him.
“It’s not funny!” Keita yelled, stamping her bare foot. “You could have bloody warned me!”
“You didn’t give me or anyone else a chance! I don’t know which was better. The look on your face or the look on hers!”
Keita paced away from him, her hands twisting against each other. “How was I supposed to know
that
was Dagmar Reinholdt? A warlord’s daughter? I thought she’d be huge! A snarling, snapping hound beast!” Ragnar pushed himself up on his elbows and studied her. She gave a small shrug. “My brother has…interesting tastes.”
She continued to pace. “I feel horrible!”
That surprised him. “You do?”
“Of course I do. I never wanted to hurt her feelings. But with that headscarf, those pieces of glass on her face, and all that grey…how was I to know?”
“Those pieces of glass on her face are spectacles.”
Keita, appearing horrified, briefly covered her mouth before asking in a desperate whisper, “She’s blind, isn’t she? I mocked a blind woman!”
Laughing again, Ragnar fell back on the ground.
“It’s not funny!” She stood over him, scowling. “Don’t you see? She’s probably crumpled at my brother’s feet right now—sobbing hysterically!”
Stretched out on their bed inside their fortress sleeping quarters, Gwenvael asked, “Does this mean I can call you my sassy servant girl now?”
“No, it does not.” Dagmar sat on the edge of the bed and pointed a finger at her dog. “And don’t you come over here. I’m still not speaking to you.”
Whining, the dog lay down on the floor, tucking his muzzle between his paws.
“How about blind slave girl?”
“No.”
Gwenvael moved over until his head rested in her lap. “How about saucy serving wench?”
Dagmar plucked lint off the sleeve of her gown. “All right, but only when we’re alone and you’re naked.”
“Shouldn’t you be naked as well?”
She sighed, in desperate exasperation. “If I’m already naked, then you can’t very well rip off my clothes and demand I service you with my mouth or you’ll bring in your many brutal guards to force me to comply—now can you?”
Gwenvael shivered, his hand reaching up and sliding into Dagmar’s hair before pulling her down to him. “How in all the hells did I forget the best part?”
“I’ve devastated that poor, wee thing and destroyed her will to live.”
“You really have not been in touch with your kin at all these last two years, have you?”
“I was busy!” She paced away from him, returned. “I’ll go straightaway and apologize. It’s the least I can do.”
She hadn’t even moved yet, but Ragnar caught her arm. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because you’ll only show Dagmar weakness, and she will prey on that weakness the way one of your relatives is preying on that carcass over there.”
Keita looked off into the east field and raised her free arm. “Hello, Uncle Amhar,” she called out loudly so he could hear her from the distance between them.
The older dragon lifted his head, blood covering his snout and dripping down his fangs. “Hello, my lovely niece! All well?”
“Aye! Enjoy your meal!” She returned her attention to the Lightning at her feet and tilted her head to the side. “You were laughing,” she observed.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know you were capable.” Keita sat down beside him, spreading her gown out around her. “So apologizing is out.”
“Definitely. I taught Dagmar well, and she’ll only see your apology as something she can use against you later.”
“Taught her?”
“I’ve known Dagmar many years. I met her when I was traveling through her father’s lands as a monk.”
“How old was she?”
“Ten, maybe.”
“And what, exactly, were you teaching her?”
Ragnar pulled his legs up and rested his arms on his raised knees. “Please don’t make me destroy…everything.”
“Sorry, sorry. I’ve just known a few dragons who’ve done that sort of thing. They don’t touch their humans until they’re of age, but the grooming starts much sooner.”
“It was never like that.”
“Good. When I’ve discovered that sort of thing in the past, it was very upsetting.”
“I can well imagine. What did you do?”
“Told my father.” She picked a flower that had managed to bloom before the winter set in. “And he killed them.”
Ragnar’s head fell forward, and he let out a breath. “Is that the answer your kin have to everything?”
“Yes.”
He studied her for a long moment. “Is that why you’re an assassin?”
Insulted, “I am
not
an assassin. I am a Protector of the Throne. And have been since I was thirteen winters.”
“You couldn’t even fly when you were thirteen winters.”
“All right, fine. If you’re going to be literal. I knew I was
going to be
a Protector of the Throne. I didn’t actually pledge myself until years later. There. Happy?” Ragnar began to answer, but she cut him off because she felt the need to make something clear. “But I am
not
an assassin.” She brought the flower to her nose, sniffed it. “That would be Talaith.”
“And who’s Talaith?”
“My brother Briec’s mate. She’s from Alsandair.”
Ragnar visibly winced. “Alsandair? Does she have a daughter? Tall girl?”
“Aye. You’ve met them?”
“I think so.” He scratched his jaw, and Keita noticed for the first time the scar he had on it. It was long but so low on his jaw, it wasn’t immediately obvious. “They killed my father.”
“Huh…dinner tonight might be awkward.”
“Not really. As you well know, he deserved it. But best not to mention it to my kin.”
“I’m glad you told me. Izzy will be here in a few days, and I’ll need to get to her before she says something completely inappropriate to Vigholf and Meinhard. She won’t mean to, of course. But it won’t matter.”
“So I’ll still be here in a few days?”
“I’m guessing.”
He leaned forward a bit, resting his cheek on his knees. “Tell me what you really think about all this with your mother.”
“I think I truly appreciate your not mentioning that necklace we found.”
“Right now your mother is unsure of Esyld’s loyalty. I sensed you were right, though, and her opinion would have changed quickly if I had told her about it.” He reached over and took one of her hands in his. “Tell me about your people and the Irons.”
She took in a breath. “During my ancestors’ time, the Iron dragons were just Southland dragons. They had wings and talons and fangs and breathed fire just like the rest of us. But they always wanted more. They began to segregate themselves from the others, and there were rumors of inbreeding in order to keep their blood lines ‘clean,’ was the word I heard used. Unlike the rest of the Southland dragons, their scales were all one color. The color of iron. Even you Northlanders, you’re all varying shades of purple, but the Irons were just one shade. And any that deviated, I’d heard, were destroyed at birth. They change their horns too. Use some contraption when their offspring hatch to curl their horns around their heads. They were finally forced out by my great grandmother, who had no tolerance for that sort of bizarre behavior, and they moved into the west. When my mother was young, the Irons attacked only once. My grandfather and his troops met them before they even cleared the Aricia Mountains. We won the day, of course, but my grandfather was captured and taken back to the Quintilian Provinces—the capital of the Sovereigns now, but then it was still just a lone province. He was tortured for days, they said. Until his execution.” Keita turned her hand over in his, pressed her thumb against the back of his hand. “Although we tell others he was killed in battle. Only the family knows the truth about his death.”
“And that truth will never leave me.”
She believed him and gave him a small smile. “My mother loved her father dearly. He protected her from her mother, and his death was a great loss to her.”
“Do you really think she only wants revenge? That she’d instigate a war with the Irons just for that reason?”
“My kin hold grudges like the ocean holds water. Forever, until a giant wave slams into the shore and devastates absolutely everything.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s wrong about this, Keita. You can’t say you don’t feel something barreling down on us.”
“I dreamed…”
“You dreamed…what?”
Keita shook her head. Was she really going to sit here and tell Ragnar about ridiculous dreams involving demon horses? What exactly did that have to do with the Irons anyway? “Forget it. But you’re right. I do feel something coming. But I also know my mother embraces war. The Elders have much less power when there’s a war.”
“And Esyld?”
“If my mother can use Esyld to get her war, she will—but I want to stop this before it goes that far. I need to protect the throne.”
Ragnar sat up. “Gods, tell me you don’t think the Irons can be reasoned with.”
“I won’t know that until I meet with them.”
“Meet with them?”
“Calm down. I don’t mean now.”
“You better not mean ever.”
“I can’t promise that. If I get the opportunity—”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“It’s so sweet of you to ask that like it’s not possible…even after meeting my kin.”
“Now the bigger issue—”
“There’s a bigger issue than your insanity?” Ragnar demanded, wondering what this female was thinking.
“Surprisingly—yes! And that bigger issue, of course, is what are we going to do with you?”
“Pardon?”
“Well, in the past when Ren and I—”
“Yes. Your perfect Ren. How could I forget him?”
“That sounded an awful lot like sarcasm, but I’m choosing to ignore it. Now, I’ve thought about this all the way from Devenallt Mountain. And we need a good, solid reason for you to be around me. You can’t just follow me like a puppy. So, after some thought, I think the best idea is for us to be lovers.” She smiled. “Isn’t that a lovely idea?”
Gods! This female!
“What?”
She had the nerve to look insulted. “You don’t have to look so panicked. We can just fake it if it makes you more comfortable.”
“I’m not panicked—I’m trying to keep up.” He scratched his head as it dawned on him that she hadn’t said they would pretend to be lovers, which meant what exactly? “Do you
want
to be lovers?”
“Sure. Why not? You know, while we’re here.”
She was truly trying to drive him into drinking every day until he blacked out, wasn’t she?
“It’s kind of a ‘two mountains, one boulder’ sort of thing,” she explained. “It will give us something fun to do while waiting to stop a war that may devastate our entire continent.”
“Uh-huh.”
“
And
,” she continued, smile widening, “everyone will be disgusted that I’m willing to lower myself to actually bed a barbarian lightning breather. A definite win-win, wouldn’t you say?”
“How is that a win-win?”
“They’ll all assume I’m doing it to torment my mother, not realizing my mother could give a blessed shit, which will draw the traitors out sooner rather than later. See? It’s brilliant.”
Ragnar began to rub his temples with one hand. “Let’s try this again. Do you
want
to be with me?”
“You mean actually fuck you?”
Ale. He needed ale so badly right now. “Sure. Why not?”
Keita leaned back and studied him. “Aye. I think I’d enjoy fucking you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is there something wrong with your chest?” Ragnar slammed his hand down, and Keita leaned farther away. “You don’t have scale fungus, do you?”
“I do
not
have scale fungus! If you want the truth, this is
your
fault!”
“My fault?”
“You stabbed me, and this damn thing hasn’t healed in two years. Did you use a poison on your tail?”
“Of course I di—” Keita abruptly stopped talking, her hand covering her mouth.
“
You did, didn’t you?
” Ragnar bellowed. “
You did bloody poison me!
”
“It shouldn’t have lasted this long,” she argued while not trying very hard not to laugh. “I just rubbed it against an iustig plant before I—”
“Assaulted me?”
“If you want to be literal. But the itching should have stopped ages ago.”
“Well, it didn’t. Dammit, Keita! I thought I was losing my bloody mind.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Like hell you are.”
“No. Honestly. I
am
sorry.”
Ragnar shook his head. “Maybe we should talk about this later.”
“No, no.” Keita crawled into his lap, facing him, and pressed her hand against the scar. There was a shirt between her flesh and his, but he only felt Keita. “I am sorry, and I can get you an antidote.”
He grunted, looking off.
“Don’t be angry with me now—we were just getting along. For once.”
He still said nothing, and that’s when she asked, “Have you ever kissed as human?”
Was it possible for her to stay on one topic at a time? He didn’t think so.
“Once or twice.”
He’d been joking when he replied, but she winced, just a little. It was enough.
“Are you any good?”
“As a matter of fact—”
She raised her hand, cutting him off. “That’s all right. It’s not a large issue.”
She settled against Ragnar’s waist, her knees on either side of him. “I love kissing as human,” she explained. “I love fucking as human, too. Hope that won’t be a problem for you.” He again didn’t reply, not knowing what to think of any of this. “And the most important thing to remember is not to choke me to death with your tongue.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Although he was sure he would have sounded much ruder if he wasn’t panting just a little. But damn her, she was naked under that gown. He’d forgotten.