Last Dragon Standing
Page 64
“You’re forgetting your manners, brother,” Princess Morfyd lightly chastised.
“Oh. You’re right.” Éibhear carefully placed the woman in his arms down. “Talaith, Daughter of Haldane, this is Lord Vigholf and Lord Meinhard.”
The woman smiled, and all Vigholf and Meinhard could do was stare.
She cleared her throat and asked the royal, “Should I be running for my life?”
“No, no. I just think they’ve never met anyone from Alsandair before.”
“Ahh. I see.”
No. She couldn’t see. But Vigholf spoke for them both when he sighed out, “By the gods of war and death, my lady, you are astoundingly beautiful.”
Her grin grew, and she curtsied a bit. “Why thank you, fine sirs.” But before Vigholf and Meinhard could fight to the death to see who would claim her hand, they suddenly had some Southland dragon in human form standing between them and their prize.
“Lightnings,” he sneered.
“Fire Breather,” they sneered back.
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “This one’s mine.”
“Oy!” came the woman’s voice from behind him.
“Tragically, this one doesn’t have wings for you to hack off anyway, but feel free to go for the one that took your hair.” Vigholf roared at the insult, and Meinhard, hopping on one leg, reached for the battle ax tied to his back.
But good Princess Keita rushed between them. “No, no, no! All of you promised me!”
They had, and, as hard as it was, the cousins immediately apologized.
The Fire Breather, however…
“I promised you nothing, baby sister.”
“You most certainly…” The princess’s words faded, and she studied Vigholf and Meinhard closely. “Where’s Ragnar?” she asked them.
Suddenly that detestable Gold known among their people as the Ruiner caught his sister’s arm and swung her around to face him.
Meinhard reached for his ax again as the Ruiner demanded, “That purple-haired bastard is here?”
Éibhear pulled his sister away from the Gold and said, “He is, and you will not act like an idiot.”
“Where is he?”
“He went off.”
The Ruiner grabbed his brother’s nose and twisted until he had Éibhear bent at the waist. “Where, you idiot? Where did he go off to?”
“I don’t know! Toward some house in the woods outside the main gates!”
“Bastard!”
The Ruiner snarled and took off running.
The silver dragon, laughing, yelled after him, “Run, brother! Run before that Lightning snatches her out from under you—again!”
“And on that note…” Princess Morfyd clapped her hands together.
“Let’s get you upstairs, my lords, and get you settled.”
“I still didn’t agree to their stay—” a black dragon began.
But both princesses quickly barked out, “I don’t want to hear it!”
“Can you take care of our esteemed guests?” the beautiful Talaith, Daughter of Haldane, asked Princess Morfyd.
“Aye.”
“Good.” She caught hold of Princess Keita’s arm and dragged her toward the fortress steps. “Because this one has something to do that she’s left far too long.”
“We’re not going in there alone, are we?” Princess Keita asked, making Meinhard worried for her safety. “Shouldn’t we have guards or something to do this?”
“Stop it, Keita. They’re just children. It’s not like they bite…enough to cause permanently disabling injuries or death.” Children?
“Explain to me why we can’t go home?” Meinhard asked.
“Because my brother’s an idiot,” Vigholf replied.
“That’s what I thought.”
“So explain this house to me, Lady Dagmar. I saw it, and I somehow knew you’d be here.”
Dagmar’s gaze roamed the room, and her accompanying smile was soft and very sweet. A smile once reserved for Ragnar alone, but now—he knew—it was strictly for another.
“I mentioned once to Gwenvael—after too much of his father’s wine, I imagine—that I’d always dreamed of having my own little house on my father’s lands. A little spinster home of my own. I said that I guess I wouldn’t get that now that I had a mate. A mate who, according to him, wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon since he knew how much I adored him and couldn’t live without his presence.” She laughed at an arrogance most couldn’t tolerate for two seconds. “A few months later, Gwenvael brought me here. He’d had the royal builders make this just for me. And it’s perfect, isn’t it? Exactly how I imagined it. I was concerned it was too close to the castle, but I am continually amazed at how lazy you dragons are. If I’m sitting right in the Great Hall, you’ll stop and talk to me or around me for hours. But to traipse a few hundred feet away from the gates to chat…
that takes a taller order, apparently.”
“You forget, my good lady, that you can’t group us all together. There are many dragons, with all sorts of differences, and we hate each other equally.”
She laughed. “Good point. I always forget that.” Ragnar reached across the table and took her hand, his gaze fixed on where his fingers stroked her knuckles. “I’m very glad to see you happy here, Dagmar. And I am sorry about how things ended for us.” No. This wasn’t right. He couldn’t look away from what he’d done. He had to face it directly as he’d done with Keita. “I’m sorry,” he said again, this time making his eyes meet hers. “For how I lied to you all those years about who I was and what I was. I truly never saw a choice and—”
“Oh. You’re right.” Éibhear carefully placed the woman in his arms down. “Talaith, Daughter of Haldane, this is Lord Vigholf and Lord Meinhard.”
The woman smiled, and all Vigholf and Meinhard could do was stare.
She cleared her throat and asked the royal, “Should I be running for my life?”
“No, no. I just think they’ve never met anyone from Alsandair before.”
“Ahh. I see.”
No. She couldn’t see. But Vigholf spoke for them both when he sighed out, “By the gods of war and death, my lady, you are astoundingly beautiful.”
Her grin grew, and she curtsied a bit. “Why thank you, fine sirs.” But before Vigholf and Meinhard could fight to the death to see who would claim her hand, they suddenly had some Southland dragon in human form standing between them and their prize.
“Lightnings,” he sneered.
“Fire Breather,” they sneered back.
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “This one’s mine.”
“Oy!” came the woman’s voice from behind him.
“Tragically, this one doesn’t have wings for you to hack off anyway, but feel free to go for the one that took your hair.” Vigholf roared at the insult, and Meinhard, hopping on one leg, reached for the battle ax tied to his back.
But good Princess Keita rushed between them. “No, no, no! All of you promised me!”
They had, and, as hard as it was, the cousins immediately apologized.
The Fire Breather, however…
“I promised you nothing, baby sister.”
“You most certainly…” The princess’s words faded, and she studied Vigholf and Meinhard closely. “Where’s Ragnar?” she asked them.
Suddenly that detestable Gold known among their people as the Ruiner caught his sister’s arm and swung her around to face him.
Meinhard reached for his ax again as the Ruiner demanded, “That purple-haired bastard is here?”
Éibhear pulled his sister away from the Gold and said, “He is, and you will not act like an idiot.”
“Where is he?”
“He went off.”
The Ruiner grabbed his brother’s nose and twisted until he had Éibhear bent at the waist. “Where, you idiot? Where did he go off to?”
“I don’t know! Toward some house in the woods outside the main gates!”
“Bastard!”
The Ruiner snarled and took off running.
The silver dragon, laughing, yelled after him, “Run, brother! Run before that Lightning snatches her out from under you—again!”
“And on that note…” Princess Morfyd clapped her hands together.
“Let’s get you upstairs, my lords, and get you settled.”
“I still didn’t agree to their stay—” a black dragon began.
But both princesses quickly barked out, “I don’t want to hear it!”
“Can you take care of our esteemed guests?” the beautiful Talaith, Daughter of Haldane, asked Princess Morfyd.
“Aye.”
“Good.” She caught hold of Princess Keita’s arm and dragged her toward the fortress steps. “Because this one has something to do that she’s left far too long.”
“We’re not going in there alone, are we?” Princess Keita asked, making Meinhard worried for her safety. “Shouldn’t we have guards or something to do this?”
“Stop it, Keita. They’re just children. It’s not like they bite…enough to cause permanently disabling injuries or death.” Children?
“Explain to me why we can’t go home?” Meinhard asked.
“Because my brother’s an idiot,” Vigholf replied.
“That’s what I thought.”
“So explain this house to me, Lady Dagmar. I saw it, and I somehow knew you’d be here.”
Dagmar’s gaze roamed the room, and her accompanying smile was soft and very sweet. A smile once reserved for Ragnar alone, but now—he knew—it was strictly for another.
“I mentioned once to Gwenvael—after too much of his father’s wine, I imagine—that I’d always dreamed of having my own little house on my father’s lands. A little spinster home of my own. I said that I guess I wouldn’t get that now that I had a mate. A mate who, according to him, wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon since he knew how much I adored him and couldn’t live without his presence.” She laughed at an arrogance most couldn’t tolerate for two seconds. “A few months later, Gwenvael brought me here. He’d had the royal builders make this just for me. And it’s perfect, isn’t it? Exactly how I imagined it. I was concerned it was too close to the castle, but I am continually amazed at how lazy you dragons are. If I’m sitting right in the Great Hall, you’ll stop and talk to me or around me for hours. But to traipse a few hundred feet away from the gates to chat…
that takes a taller order, apparently.”
“You forget, my good lady, that you can’t group us all together. There are many dragons, with all sorts of differences, and we hate each other equally.”
She laughed. “Good point. I always forget that.” Ragnar reached across the table and took her hand, his gaze fixed on where his fingers stroked her knuckles. “I’m very glad to see you happy here, Dagmar. And I am sorry about how things ended for us.” No. This wasn’t right. He couldn’t look away from what he’d done. He had to face it directly as he’d done with Keita. “I’m sorry,” he said again, this time making his eyes meet hers. “For how I lied to you all those years about who I was and what I was. I truly never saw a choice and—”
