Last Dragon Standing
Page 96
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“Trust me, Fearghus, if what Annwyl has been dreaming, if the details I’ve received are correct, then she has good reason to be concerned. We all do.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ragnar was heading down a side street when he saw the pub.
Although it wasn’t the pub that caught his attention, but the men going into it. Practically running.
He sighed. Honestly. The things he was reduced to.
He stepped into the pub, moving past tables, punters, and barmaids until he reached a small table in the back. That’s where he found Her Majesty holding court, human males surrounding her.
“Lord Ragnar!” she cheered when he stood in front of the table, towering over the other males. “Gentlemen, this is Lord Ragnar. Lord Ragnar, these are my gentlemen.” She giggled at that, and he debated pulling her out by her hair. But that sounded too much like something his father would do—making it impossible for him to do the same. “What brings you here, my lord?”
“I’ve been looking for you. Thought you could return with me to the fortress.”
“But I’m having such fun,” she said, raising the pint in her hand.
Gods, how much ale had she had since she’d run off? It hadn’t taken him that long to track her down.
“It’s time for your fun to end, I’m afraid.”
“But I don’t want it to end,” she pouted, and damn her for looking so adorable while doing so.
“I don’t care—”
“Why don’t you leave off?” one of the men snapped. “Just go—” Ragnar held up his hand in front of the man’s face, silencing him and the entire pub with a thought.
“Don’t annoy me, my lady. Just come along.”
Oblivious, Keita said, “But I don’t want to go.” She was testing him, and he didn’t like it.
Glancing at the man who’d been so protective of her, Ragnar ordered,
“Bark like a dog.”
And when he did, Keita’s eyes grew wide, her mouth dropping open.
“Stop it,” she told him.
Ragnar glanced at the man to his right. “Quack like a duck.”
“Ragnar!” she squeaked over the quacking and barking. “Stop it!” Curious, he asked, “Why do you care what I do to them?”
“Because what you’re doing is wrong. Can’t you see that?” He could; he was just surprised that she could see it as well.
“What do you do that’s so different from what I do?”
“You must be joking.” And he realized she wasn’t drunk at all.
“Not really. These human males would crawl across broken glass to entertain you.”
“Of their own free will. I force no one to do anything and would you stop the quacking and barking! ”
“Stop.”
They did as ordered, and Keita’s eyes narrowed. “Can you do the same to me?”
He laughed. “Dragons are never that easy, princess. But lusty men have to be the easiest of all.”
“Which you’re saying is my fault?”
“You certainly don’t help.” He held his hand out to her. “Now, are you coming, or should I have them start mooing?” Keita stood and walked around the table. She took the hand he held out to her, but wouldn’t move. “Release them, Ragnar.”
“As you wish.”
He did as she bade, everyone returning to what they’d been doing without missing a beat.
The men, realizing Keita was leaving, begged her to stay.
“I’m sorry, all. I must go. But I’ll be back.” She let Ragnar lead her to the front door and outside. “That was mean!” she said, snatching her hand away.
“So is your testing me.”
“I was not.”
“Weren’t you? To see what I’d do with you surrounded by so many men?”
“I do not call them to me. And do you really think I’m that petty?”
“Yes. I do.”
Keita gasped, outraged, and pulled her fist back to assault him with one of her weak pummelings when her sharp gaze caught sight of a blonde wearing a dark blue cape and moving quickly down the street. “It’s her!”
“It’s who?”
“Come.”
“Pardon?”
“We can’t let her get away!” She caught his hand and tried to drag him with her. When he only gawked at her, refusing to be moved until she told him what was going on, she dropped his hand, lifted the skirt of her gown, and followed the woman.
Who knew that sleeping late would cause Éibhear to miss a second fight between Annwyl and Vigholf and Meinhard? And this time he wouldn’t have had to worry about stopping them and possibly losing his head in the process or being responsible for a small territorial incident because it had all taken place in the training ring. But according to the servants who’d brought him something to eat earlier, he’d missed quite the battle. Typical.
But he was home and he was glad to be.
He walked down the stairs and into the Great Hall. No one was around; even the servants off doing something else, somewhere else. It didn’t help that he was bored and still feeling the effects of all that wine from last night. Still, he’d had quite the good time at the pubs with a few of his male cousins and several of the barmaids.
He debated what to do now, and decided that heading into town would work. He could stop by the booksellers and see what was new and interesting—which would probably be everything since it had been ages that he’d purchased a new book. The Northlanders were not big on books and on very few occasions did he get a chance to stop by a bookseller or library.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ragnar was heading down a side street when he saw the pub.
Although it wasn’t the pub that caught his attention, but the men going into it. Practically running.
He sighed. Honestly. The things he was reduced to.
He stepped into the pub, moving past tables, punters, and barmaids until he reached a small table in the back. That’s where he found Her Majesty holding court, human males surrounding her.
“Lord Ragnar!” she cheered when he stood in front of the table, towering over the other males. “Gentlemen, this is Lord Ragnar. Lord Ragnar, these are my gentlemen.” She giggled at that, and he debated pulling her out by her hair. But that sounded too much like something his father would do—making it impossible for him to do the same. “What brings you here, my lord?”
“I’ve been looking for you. Thought you could return with me to the fortress.”
“But I’m having such fun,” she said, raising the pint in her hand.
Gods, how much ale had she had since she’d run off? It hadn’t taken him that long to track her down.
“It’s time for your fun to end, I’m afraid.”
“But I don’t want it to end,” she pouted, and damn her for looking so adorable while doing so.
“I don’t care—”
“Why don’t you leave off?” one of the men snapped. “Just go—” Ragnar held up his hand in front of the man’s face, silencing him and the entire pub with a thought.
“Don’t annoy me, my lady. Just come along.”
Oblivious, Keita said, “But I don’t want to go.” She was testing him, and he didn’t like it.
Glancing at the man who’d been so protective of her, Ragnar ordered,
“Bark like a dog.”
And when he did, Keita’s eyes grew wide, her mouth dropping open.
“Stop it,” she told him.
Ragnar glanced at the man to his right. “Quack like a duck.”
“Ragnar!” she squeaked over the quacking and barking. “Stop it!” Curious, he asked, “Why do you care what I do to them?”
“Because what you’re doing is wrong. Can’t you see that?” He could; he was just surprised that she could see it as well.
“What do you do that’s so different from what I do?”
“You must be joking.” And he realized she wasn’t drunk at all.
“Not really. These human males would crawl across broken glass to entertain you.”
“Of their own free will. I force no one to do anything and would you stop the quacking and barking! ”
“Stop.”
They did as ordered, and Keita’s eyes narrowed. “Can you do the same to me?”
He laughed. “Dragons are never that easy, princess. But lusty men have to be the easiest of all.”
“Which you’re saying is my fault?”
“You certainly don’t help.” He held his hand out to her. “Now, are you coming, or should I have them start mooing?” Keita stood and walked around the table. She took the hand he held out to her, but wouldn’t move. “Release them, Ragnar.”
“As you wish.”
He did as she bade, everyone returning to what they’d been doing without missing a beat.
The men, realizing Keita was leaving, begged her to stay.
“I’m sorry, all. I must go. But I’ll be back.” She let Ragnar lead her to the front door and outside. “That was mean!” she said, snatching her hand away.
“So is your testing me.”
“I was not.”
“Weren’t you? To see what I’d do with you surrounded by so many men?”
“I do not call them to me. And do you really think I’m that petty?”
“Yes. I do.”
Keita gasped, outraged, and pulled her fist back to assault him with one of her weak pummelings when her sharp gaze caught sight of a blonde wearing a dark blue cape and moving quickly down the street. “It’s her!”
“It’s who?”
“Come.”
“Pardon?”
“We can’t let her get away!” She caught his hand and tried to drag him with her. When he only gawked at her, refusing to be moved until she told him what was going on, she dropped his hand, lifted the skirt of her gown, and followed the woman.
Who knew that sleeping late would cause Éibhear to miss a second fight between Annwyl and Vigholf and Meinhard? And this time he wouldn’t have had to worry about stopping them and possibly losing his head in the process or being responsible for a small territorial incident because it had all taken place in the training ring. But according to the servants who’d brought him something to eat earlier, he’d missed quite the battle. Typical.
But he was home and he was glad to be.
He walked down the stairs and into the Great Hall. No one was around; even the servants off doing something else, somewhere else. It didn’t help that he was bored and still feeling the effects of all that wine from last night. Still, he’d had quite the good time at the pubs with a few of his male cousins and several of the barmaids.
He debated what to do now, and decided that heading into town would work. He could stop by the booksellers and see what was new and interesting—which would probably be everything since it had been ages that he’d purchased a new book. The Northlanders were not big on books and on very few occasions did he get a chance to stop by a bookseller or library.
