The Dragon Who Loved Me
Page 103
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Annwyl was digging into her second bowl of porridge, trying desperately to ignore the squealing from outside when Dagmar made her way downstairs. Poor thing, she looked exhausted as she sat down across from Annwyl, the servants putting a large cup of tea in front of her.
“Morning, Dagmar.” Annwyl’s Battle Lord blinked, and squinted across the table at her. “Your spectacles,” Annwyl prompted.
“I must have forgotten them upstairs.”
“Actual y, they’re on top of your head, luv.”
Dagmar reached up, touching the smal round spectacles she wore except when she was asleep or reading. “Oh . . . there they are.” She placed them on, yawned.
“You al right?”
“Fine. Why?”
“Because you look like I guess I looked nearly two weeks ago.” She leaned in a bit. “Gwenvael missed you, didn’t he?”
“More than seems reasonably possible.”
Annwyl laughed, licking her spoon. “I think it’s cute and rather romantic.”
“And that’s why you can shut the battle-fuck up, my queen.”
Laughing harder, Annwyl reached into a bowl of raisins. She leaned her head back to drop a few into her mouth, and that’s when she saw Talaith standing next to her, seething, arms crossed over her chest.
Annwyl held out her hand. “Raisin?”
Talaith slapped the raisins from her hand. Honestly, no one respected royals anymore.
“You made that stupid, stupid girl a corporal?”
“She deserved it. Your daughter is one of the best soldiers I’ve ever had the honor of—ow! Let go my nose! Let go my nose!”
“You vicious, horrible, female!” Talaith slapped her own hand off, which hurt Annwyl’s nose more than she thought possible since it was stil a bit sore from being broken only a few days before. “I thought we were over with this insanity! That she’d come home—”
“She has!”
“—and that she’d stay for good.”
“Oh . . . yeah, that’s not happening. Ow! Let go my nose!”
“Talaith,” a new voice interjected, “you had to know this was going to happen. Izzy’s a natural.” They al looked down the length of the table at Keita.
“How long have you been sitting there?” Talaith asked, releasing Annwyl’s nose.
“Since you started yel ing at Lady Insanity.”
“That’s an unfair title. . . .” Annwyl muttered. “Mostly.”
“Gods, I’m starving.” Keita crinkled up what she referred to as her “adorable” nose. “I don’t want porridge, though.” She motioned to one of the servants. “Have any meat?” She whispered loudly, “Perhaps a little dog?”
“Don’t make me kil you,” Dagmar warned around a yawn. “I have no qualms about kil ing you.”
“Speaking of which,” Annwyl cut in. “Where are my dogs?”
“In their own kennel.” Dagmar glared at her. “They’d become unruly under your handling. They’re worse than your horse.”
“Because they know they’re better than everyone else.”
Morfyd walked into the Great Hal from the courtyard. “How wonderful!” she announced. “Izzy just told me the good . . .” Her words faded off when she saw Talaith glowering, and she finished with “. . . horrible, terrible news about her promotion. Just horrible.”
“That was smooth,” Keita sneered.
“Quiet, lizard!”
Dagmar pointed at Annwyl. “Do you realize that you have a big scar right across your face?”
“Yes.”
“Just going to leave it there, eh?”
“Why shouldn’t I? I think it’s stylish.”
“My father would like it,” Dagmar admitted. “Which does nothing but horrify me.”
“I like your father.”
“And that horrifies me more.”
“Is it true,” Talaith snarled, pul ing the chair beside Annwyl out and dropping into it, “that you took my daughter with you to see that murdering lowlife scum lord?”
Keita grinned. “We just cal him daddy.”
“Not that murdering lowlife scum lord,” Talaith snapped. “Gaius Domitus.”
“I did.” Annwyl looked at Dagmar. “He’l make a good al y. His sister, though . . .” She shuddered a bit. “She makes me look forgiving and benevolent.” She leaned forward. “Her flame is so hot . . . it can melt the scales of other Fire Breathers. It melted stone.” Morfyd rested her hands against the table. “Are you sure?”
“That’s what Rhona told me. Double-check with her.”
“Why does it matter?” Dagmar asked.
“I’ve just never heard of that before. Unless she’s a witch.”
“Not that I know of.” Annwyl ate a few more raisins. “Rhona also said that once the sister was released, the other Irons were terrified of her.”
“If she can melt the scales of other Fire Breathers . . . they should be afraid.”
“Yes, yes. That’s al quite fascinating, but . . .” Keita sat up a little tal er, fluffed her hair a bit. “Notice anything different?”
“Your hips getting wider?” Morfyd asked, which got her punched in the leg. “Ow! You viper!”
“Anything else?” Keita pushed them. “Anything new about me?”
“Morning, Dagmar.” Annwyl’s Battle Lord blinked, and squinted across the table at her. “Your spectacles,” Annwyl prompted.
“I must have forgotten them upstairs.”
“Actual y, they’re on top of your head, luv.”
Dagmar reached up, touching the smal round spectacles she wore except when she was asleep or reading. “Oh . . . there they are.” She placed them on, yawned.
“You al right?”
“Fine. Why?”
“Because you look like I guess I looked nearly two weeks ago.” She leaned in a bit. “Gwenvael missed you, didn’t he?”
“More than seems reasonably possible.”
Annwyl laughed, licking her spoon. “I think it’s cute and rather romantic.”
“And that’s why you can shut the battle-fuck up, my queen.”
Laughing harder, Annwyl reached into a bowl of raisins. She leaned her head back to drop a few into her mouth, and that’s when she saw Talaith standing next to her, seething, arms crossed over her chest.
Annwyl held out her hand. “Raisin?”
Talaith slapped the raisins from her hand. Honestly, no one respected royals anymore.
“You made that stupid, stupid girl a corporal?”
“She deserved it. Your daughter is one of the best soldiers I’ve ever had the honor of—ow! Let go my nose! Let go my nose!”
“You vicious, horrible, female!” Talaith slapped her own hand off, which hurt Annwyl’s nose more than she thought possible since it was stil a bit sore from being broken only a few days before. “I thought we were over with this insanity! That she’d come home—”
“She has!”
“—and that she’d stay for good.”
“Oh . . . yeah, that’s not happening. Ow! Let go my nose!”
“Talaith,” a new voice interjected, “you had to know this was going to happen. Izzy’s a natural.” They al looked down the length of the table at Keita.
“How long have you been sitting there?” Talaith asked, releasing Annwyl’s nose.
“Since you started yel ing at Lady Insanity.”
“That’s an unfair title. . . .” Annwyl muttered. “Mostly.”
“Gods, I’m starving.” Keita crinkled up what she referred to as her “adorable” nose. “I don’t want porridge, though.” She motioned to one of the servants. “Have any meat?” She whispered loudly, “Perhaps a little dog?”
“Don’t make me kil you,” Dagmar warned around a yawn. “I have no qualms about kil ing you.”
“Speaking of which,” Annwyl cut in. “Where are my dogs?”
“In their own kennel.” Dagmar glared at her. “They’d become unruly under your handling. They’re worse than your horse.”
“Because they know they’re better than everyone else.”
Morfyd walked into the Great Hal from the courtyard. “How wonderful!” she announced. “Izzy just told me the good . . .” Her words faded off when she saw Talaith glowering, and she finished with “. . . horrible, terrible news about her promotion. Just horrible.”
“That was smooth,” Keita sneered.
“Quiet, lizard!”
Dagmar pointed at Annwyl. “Do you realize that you have a big scar right across your face?”
“Yes.”
“Just going to leave it there, eh?”
“Why shouldn’t I? I think it’s stylish.”
“My father would like it,” Dagmar admitted. “Which does nothing but horrify me.”
“I like your father.”
“And that horrifies me more.”
“Is it true,” Talaith snarled, pul ing the chair beside Annwyl out and dropping into it, “that you took my daughter with you to see that murdering lowlife scum lord?”
Keita grinned. “We just cal him daddy.”
“Not that murdering lowlife scum lord,” Talaith snapped. “Gaius Domitus.”
“I did.” Annwyl looked at Dagmar. “He’l make a good al y. His sister, though . . .” She shuddered a bit. “She makes me look forgiving and benevolent.” She leaned forward. “Her flame is so hot . . . it can melt the scales of other Fire Breathers. It melted stone.” Morfyd rested her hands against the table. “Are you sure?”
“That’s what Rhona told me. Double-check with her.”
“Why does it matter?” Dagmar asked.
“I’ve just never heard of that before. Unless she’s a witch.”
“Not that I know of.” Annwyl ate a few more raisins. “Rhona also said that once the sister was released, the other Irons were terrified of her.”
“If she can melt the scales of other Fire Breathers . . . they should be afraid.”
“Yes, yes. That’s al quite fascinating, but . . .” Keita sat up a little tal er, fluffed her hair a bit. “Notice anything different?”
“Your hips getting wider?” Morfyd asked, which got her punched in the leg. “Ow! You viper!”
“Anything else?” Keita pushed them. “Anything new about me?”