How to Drive a Dragon Crazy
Page 37

Chuckling, Éibhear walked up to his niece and held out his hand. “I know what will get your mind off such great worries, little niece.”
Rhi’s smile grew, her nose crinkling as her small hand slipped into his. “Book shopping?” she asked hopefully.
“Book shopping.”
Izzy gawked at the table. “Really?” she asked the dragon next to her.
He shrugged massive shoulders. “It got a little out of hand.”
“A little?”
He winced, gazing at the books that had been delivered by three carriages. “Well, you like to read, don’t you?” And she heard the begging in his voice.
“Not really.” She patted his shoulder. “Have fun putting them all away in the library.”
“You’re not going to help?”
She headed toward the big doors. “I’d rather set myself on fire.”
“I can manage that well enough,” he muttered.
Izzy stopped, looked at him over her shoulder. “What was that?”
He sighed. “Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.”
That’s when Izzy noticed the boy. He stood in the corner, probably hiding there, hoping Éibhear wouldn’t notice him. She could understand that. When he was focusing on something, Éibhear had a brutal frown. Made him look like the mass-murdering bastard she’d heard him called over the last few years.
“Why don’t you help him with all those books . . . uh . . . ?”
Eyes wide, the boy stuttered out, “Fred . . . Frederik. Reinholdt.”
“Dagmar’s nephew.” Although it was somewhat easy to tell that just from the look of the boy. Pale, like he’d never seen the suns, and tall, like most of the Northland men. Not bad looking but a bit fearful to be around this brutish lot. “Can you read?”
“A bit.” He glanced away. “It’s a bit of a struggle.”
“No matter. You learn to read by doing and gods know, Éibhear needs the help.” She took the boy by his shoulder and led him to the table. “This has to be cleaned up by dinnertime.”
Éibhear blew out a breath. “Damn. Dinner.”
Laughing, Izzy left.
Éibhear glared at the cute ass walking out of the Great Hall, then refocused on the boy. “Frederik?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Nice to meet you. Name’s Éibhear.”
He frowned up at him. “You’re very . . . tall.”
“So are you . . . for a human boy.”
“You’re really a dragon?”
“I am.”
“And the lady?”
“Lady?”
“Who just left.”
Éibhear laughed. “I wouldn’t call Izzy a lady. Might get you punched. That’s General Iseabail, Daughter of Talaith.”
“You have women generals? She goes into combat? And you let her?”
“What you’ll learn, lad, is that you don’t let the females of the Southlands do a damn thing. You simply get out of their way or pray they don’t run you down.” He motioned to the books. “Let’s just get these to the library. We’ll organize them later.”
By the time Iseabail walked down the Great Hall stairs, Morfyd was coming around the corner. She wore the white robes of a healing cleric, her bag of herbs and spell paraphernalia over her shoulder.
“Morfyd!” Izzy waved and Morfyd rushed over, the pair hugging each other tight.
“Izzy! I heard you were back. I’m so glad to see you.” Morfyd stepped away, looked her over. “You’re too thin.”
“Am I?” She glanced down at herself, frowned. “Really?”
“To my eyes. Where are you off to?”
“To my house. I’m exhausted.”
“You’re not coming to dinner tonight?”
“No, but Uncle Fearghus said there might be something in a day or two, and that I’ll be attending.” She grinned. “There will be dancing.”
“Of course. Now, I’m glad you’re here. Your sister has plans to spend time with Lord Pombray’s son.”
“Isn’t Brastias escorting them?”
“He is, but I’ll need you to manage your father. He’s already burned the poor boy and . . . Iseabail! Stop laughing!”
“You know how Daddy is. Remember Lord Crom? All he did was put his hand on my lower back and the next thing I knew he was flying over the tops of the trees and Daddy was dropping him from his talons. . . .” She thought a moment and asked, “How is he anyway?”
“Dead. It wasn’t the fall that killed him. Or even the landing. It was Briec following up the whole thing with enough flame to wipe out a village.” She patted Izzy’s arm. “We didn’t tell you that part at the time. It would have just upset you.”
Appalled, Izzy demanded, “But he barely touched me!”
“And you were barely sixteen. It was completely inappropriate and Briec had warned him off. Twice. But he kept staring. The touching was the final straw. Now Lord Pombray’s son is your sister’s age, but that won’t matter much to your father.”
Izzy folded her arms over her chest. “What else have you lot hidden from me over the years?”
“Oh, lots of things. But it was always for the best.”
Before Izzy could argue that point, Morfyd asked, “So what brings you here? I thought we’d see you closer to the fall harvests.”