Last Dragon Standing
Page 71
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“Not yet she’s not.”
“Och!” Keita barked, stepping out of the Great Hall and into the late-day suns. “I simply can’t believe Briec named his poor hatchling after that slithering pond scum!”
“Shouldn’t you just call her Mum when we’re on her territory?”
“Only when she’s directly in earshot.”
Keita watched as Ragnar returned with Gwenvael and some servant.
“There you are! You can’t just go wandering off, warlord. Unless, of course, you were hoping for a haircut so you can match your brother.”
“Is it my imagination or is that concern in your voice?” the warlord asked.
“Hardly. More like annoyance.” She continued down the steps and grabbed Ragnar’s forearm. “Come. We need to talk.”
“Where are you going?”
“Don’t question me, Gwenvael.”
“But Keita—”
“Later. I need to talk to Ragnar.” Keita stopped by the servant.
“Please ensure our Northland guests have all they need. I believe they were taken to the third floor. Make sure they have food. My sister has a tendency to forget that sort of thing.” She glanced at what stood behind the servant, a large bone held in its mouth. She’d seen a lot of those around the territory.
More than she’d seen before. Must be an overpopulation issue. Something she could help with. “Dog might do. Roasted. Not heavy on the salt.” She sighed longingly. “Roasted dog. Yum.” She pressed her hand to her stomach and realized how hungry she was. “Send some up to my room as well. We’ll be back in a bit.”
Keita hopped off the last step and looked back at Ragnar. Shocked at the warlord, she could only ask over his laughter, “What’s so funny?”
“Keita—” her brother said.
“What?”
Gwenvael put his arm around the servant, and Keita sighed softly in exasperation. Why her brother felt the need to protect every female, especially now when he had some barbarian warlord mate of his own, was beyond Keita’s reckoning. It wasn’t as if she’d battered the female into submission or something. She’d given her simple orders to follow. That was her job, wasn’t it?
“I’d like you to meet Dagmar Reinholdt,” Gwenvael said.
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.
“Och!” Keita barked, stepping out of the Great Hall and into the late-day suns. “I simply can’t believe Briec named his poor hatchling after that slithering pond scum!”
“Shouldn’t you just call her Mum when we’re on her territory?”
“Only when she’s directly in earshot.”
Keita watched as Ragnar returned with Gwenvael and some servant.
“There you are! You can’t just go wandering off, warlord. Unless, of course, you were hoping for a haircut so you can match your brother.”
“Is it my imagination or is that concern in your voice?” the warlord asked.
“Hardly. More like annoyance.” She continued down the steps and grabbed Ragnar’s forearm. “Come. We need to talk.”
“Where are you going?”
“Don’t question me, Gwenvael.”
“But Keita—”
“Later. I need to talk to Ragnar.” Keita stopped by the servant.
“Please ensure our Northland guests have all they need. I believe they were taken to the third floor. Make sure they have food. My sister has a tendency to forget that sort of thing.” She glanced at what stood behind the servant, a large bone held in its mouth. She’d seen a lot of those around the territory.
More than she’d seen before. Must be an overpopulation issue. Something she could help with. “Dog might do. Roasted. Not heavy on the salt.” She sighed longingly. “Roasted dog. Yum.” She pressed her hand to her stomach and realized how hungry she was. “Send some up to my room as well. We’ll be back in a bit.”
Keita hopped off the last step and looked back at Ragnar. Shocked at the warlord, she could only ask over his laughter, “What’s so funny?”
“Keita—” her brother said.
“What?”
Gwenvael put his arm around the servant, and Keita sighed softly in exasperation. Why her brother felt the need to protect every female, especially now when he had some barbarian warlord mate of his own, was beyond Keita’s reckoning. It wasn’t as if she’d battered the female into submission or something. She’d given her simple orders to follow. That was her job, wasn’t it?
“I’d like you to meet Dagmar Reinholdt,” Gwenvael said.
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.
