About a Dragon
Page 70
“Come here, wench.”
“Not on your life, dragon.”
She made it downstairs, barely dodging Fearghus’ outstretched hand. But his other arm looped around her waist, lifting her completely off the ground.
“Let me go!”
“I’ve got you now, my queen. The question is what will I do with you?”
“Bastard!”
“Sweet talk will get you everywhere.”
The two laughed and struggled until they looked up and found both Brastias and Morfyd staring at them.
“Must you two do that?” Morfyd demanded in a harsh whisper. “In front of everyone?”
“Well, actually—” Annwyl began, but Fearghus feared what she’d say, so he covered her mouth with his hand.
“Sorry, sister. We’ll stop.”
“Good.”
She and Brastias walked off, but as soon as Fearghus released Annwyl she yelled after them, “We’ll do our best to be good little monarchs.”
Morfyd swung around so fast, fangs showing, that Annwyl stumbled back and then dodged behind Fearghus.
“My, aren’t we the brave queen, my love.”
“Shut up, mate.”
* * *
He was one of the young soldiers in training. He’d bragged about it for the last five minutes while he continually tossed his white blond locks over his shoulder.
Izzy didn’t like him. And she had the almost overwhelming desire to shave his blasted head and then stuff her pillow with all that blond hair.
Music suddenly flowed through the hall and dancing started. Izzy longed to dance because she never had before.
Turning from the boy—she’d never consider him a man—in the hopes of finding a dance partner who didn’t make her skin crawl, she froze when his hand grabbed firm hold of her arm.
She looked down at the hand holding her and then up at the boy attached to that hand.
“Let me go.”
“We weren’t done talking.”
“We are now.”
He gave her an indulgent smile she longed to punch off his face.
“Come. Dance with me.” Ignoring her attempt to get him to release her, he headed toward the dance floor. But three large men blocked his path.
“Problem, Izzy?” Achaius asked calmly, but Izzy had lived with the man for nine years. She knew when he might snap and crack open a few heads in the process.
“No. No problem.”
The boy was a fool but nothing she couldn’t handle.
Her Protectors, in unison, looked down at the hand holding onto her arm and back at her.
“Doesn’t look that way to us,” Achaius observed.
“Achaius—”
“Perhaps you better get out of my way, old man.”
Izzy winced and resigned herself to the boy’s fate.
Achaius ignored the boy and focused on Izzy. “What did we teach you, Izzy, when someone placed his hands on you without your permission?”
“But—”
“Izzy?”
With a sigh, Izzy moved around to face the boy, his hand still holding onto her arm. She used her free one to slam her fist into his throat.
Startled and unable to breathe, most likely, he stumbled back.
“Good lass.” Achaius patted her on the back. “Now off with you. We’ll take it from here.”
“Achaius, it really wasn’t—”
“Don’t make me get your mother over here, Iseabail.”
“No, no. Not necessary,” she replied hastily.
The boy may not realize it, but he’d be better off taking a beating from these three men in a dark corner than facing off against her mother. She’d seen the damage that woman could do, remembered the bodies lying on the field of battle.
No, it was best not to get her mother involved.
“Then go and enjoy yourself,” Achaius said as he gently pushed her toward the dance floor. “We’ll join you in a few minutes.”
She glanced at the boy and felt a small pang of regret for him, but he really did bring this on himself.
* * *
Talaith barely managed a yelp before a strong hand dragged her off into a deserted hallway. She went for her concealed dagger but quickly realized it was only Morfyd.
“Grabbing trained assassins and hauling them into dark corners is always a bad idea, Morfyd.”
Morfyd dismissed Talaith’s words with a wave of her hand. “Forget all that. I have something much more interesting.”
The two women stopped as a young man with white blond hair dashed by them. He’d been badly beaten, his face a bit of a bloody mess.
Talaith watched him disappear around a corner. “Should I ask—”
“No,” Morfyd cut in. “Probably not.”
The dragonwitch most likely spoke true. It was much better Talaith not know what was going on.
“So, what’s so interesting?”
“The captain of the guards finds you quite attractive.”
Talaith stared at the dragoness currently in human form—and she kept staring.
“Well?” Morfyd pushed, her excitement evident as she bounced on the tips of her toes.
“Well what?”
“Go dance with him.”
By the gods, she’s matchmaking.
“Absolutely not.” Talaith turned and headed back to the party when Morfyd’s words stopped her in her tracks.
“I thought you were over him.”
Talaith swung around to face her new friend and current royal pain. “We are never to discuss him. Ever.”
“Not on your life, dragon.”
She made it downstairs, barely dodging Fearghus’ outstretched hand. But his other arm looped around her waist, lifting her completely off the ground.
“Let me go!”
“I’ve got you now, my queen. The question is what will I do with you?”
“Bastard!”
“Sweet talk will get you everywhere.”
The two laughed and struggled until they looked up and found both Brastias and Morfyd staring at them.
“Must you two do that?” Morfyd demanded in a harsh whisper. “In front of everyone?”
“Well, actually—” Annwyl began, but Fearghus feared what she’d say, so he covered her mouth with his hand.
“Sorry, sister. We’ll stop.”
“Good.”
She and Brastias walked off, but as soon as Fearghus released Annwyl she yelled after them, “We’ll do our best to be good little monarchs.”
Morfyd swung around so fast, fangs showing, that Annwyl stumbled back and then dodged behind Fearghus.
“My, aren’t we the brave queen, my love.”
“Shut up, mate.”
* * *
He was one of the young soldiers in training. He’d bragged about it for the last five minutes while he continually tossed his white blond locks over his shoulder.
Izzy didn’t like him. And she had the almost overwhelming desire to shave his blasted head and then stuff her pillow with all that blond hair.
Music suddenly flowed through the hall and dancing started. Izzy longed to dance because she never had before.
Turning from the boy—she’d never consider him a man—in the hopes of finding a dance partner who didn’t make her skin crawl, she froze when his hand grabbed firm hold of her arm.
She looked down at the hand holding her and then up at the boy attached to that hand.
“Let me go.”
“We weren’t done talking.”
“We are now.”
He gave her an indulgent smile she longed to punch off his face.
“Come. Dance with me.” Ignoring her attempt to get him to release her, he headed toward the dance floor. But three large men blocked his path.
“Problem, Izzy?” Achaius asked calmly, but Izzy had lived with the man for nine years. She knew when he might snap and crack open a few heads in the process.
“No. No problem.”
The boy was a fool but nothing she couldn’t handle.
Her Protectors, in unison, looked down at the hand holding onto her arm and back at her.
“Doesn’t look that way to us,” Achaius observed.
“Achaius—”
“Perhaps you better get out of my way, old man.”
Izzy winced and resigned herself to the boy’s fate.
Achaius ignored the boy and focused on Izzy. “What did we teach you, Izzy, when someone placed his hands on you without your permission?”
“But—”
“Izzy?”
With a sigh, Izzy moved around to face the boy, his hand still holding onto her arm. She used her free one to slam her fist into his throat.
Startled and unable to breathe, most likely, he stumbled back.
“Good lass.” Achaius patted her on the back. “Now off with you. We’ll take it from here.”
“Achaius, it really wasn’t—”
“Don’t make me get your mother over here, Iseabail.”
“No, no. Not necessary,” she replied hastily.
The boy may not realize it, but he’d be better off taking a beating from these three men in a dark corner than facing off against her mother. She’d seen the damage that woman could do, remembered the bodies lying on the field of battle.
No, it was best not to get her mother involved.
“Then go and enjoy yourself,” Achaius said as he gently pushed her toward the dance floor. “We’ll join you in a few minutes.”
She glanced at the boy and felt a small pang of regret for him, but he really did bring this on himself.
* * *
Talaith barely managed a yelp before a strong hand dragged her off into a deserted hallway. She went for her concealed dagger but quickly realized it was only Morfyd.
“Grabbing trained assassins and hauling them into dark corners is always a bad idea, Morfyd.”
Morfyd dismissed Talaith’s words with a wave of her hand. “Forget all that. I have something much more interesting.”
The two women stopped as a young man with white blond hair dashed by them. He’d been badly beaten, his face a bit of a bloody mess.
Talaith watched him disappear around a corner. “Should I ask—”
“No,” Morfyd cut in. “Probably not.”
The dragonwitch most likely spoke true. It was much better Talaith not know what was going on.
“So, what’s so interesting?”
“The captain of the guards finds you quite attractive.”
Talaith stared at the dragoness currently in human form—and she kept staring.
“Well?” Morfyd pushed, her excitement evident as she bounced on the tips of her toes.
“Well what?”
“Go dance with him.”
By the gods, she’s matchmaking.
“Absolutely not.” Talaith turned and headed back to the party when Morfyd’s words stopped her in her tracks.
“I thought you were over him.”
Talaith swung around to face her new friend and current royal pain. “We are never to discuss him. Ever.”
