need. We have our secret weapon.
What secret weapon?
“I don’t have time for this ridiculousness,” Dagmar cut in before the fight between the two She-dragons could become physical. “So let’s move this along, shall we?”
When the Dragon Queen stared at her, Dagmar pointed out the window toward the suns. “It’s getting late. . . . I have things to do, my good lady.”
“I think you might be getting a bit big for your leggings, Miss—”
“Don’t believe me?” Dagmar cut in. She dug into one of the hidden pockets of her dress and pulled out a piece of parchment. “Let me read my daily list to you.”
“Don’t bother.” Rhiannon immediately stepped away from Ghleanna. Nothing the She-dragon hated more than hearing Dagmar’s daily chores.
Smirking a bit, Dagmar slipped the parchment back into her dress. Amazing how just a little paperwork seemed to make every dragon nearly wet him- or herself at even the tiny suggestion of such boredom.
And Dagmar wasn’t ashamed to admit . . . she used that fear to every advantage she could wring from it.
While Celyn stared mindlessly at a spot on the stone floor of the war room, Rhiannon quickly went through her plan again for Bram and Ghleanna. When she was done, Bram gave a small shrug.
“It’s not a horrible idea. But until we talk to this Rider, we can’t count on her to do anything for us.”
“The idiot has a point, Rhiannon,” Bercelak said as Bram caught the back of his mate’s chain-mail shirt to prevent her from throttling her brother, while Celyn caught the back of his sister’s chain-mail shirt to prevent her from throttling their uncle. “We need to talk to this . . . person. Where is she?”
“Oh . . . I don’t know.”
Bercelak began rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers and softly growling.
“Oh, stop it, Bercelak.”
“How do you not keep track of someone who was sent here to kill you? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know where she is. I’m the queen,” she reminded him. “I don’t need to know. But I know who does know where she is.”
“And who would that be?”
That’s when Rhiannon suddenly pointed at Celyn.
And Celyn immediately looked behind him to see if someone was standing back there.
When he saw no one, he faced the queen and pointed at himself. “I know?”
“Of course you know. I told you to take her someplace safe.”
“You did?”
“You knew about this?” Bercelak asked Celyn.
Celyn blinked and calmly asked, “Knew about what?”
“The girl,” his queen said.
“What girl?”
“The girl I asked you to keep safe.”
Celyn scratched his chin. “The girl you asked me to keep safe . . .”
The queen sighed. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“Not even a little.”
Bercelak started to stalk toward Celyn, but Ghleanna quickly grabbed his arm, halting him.
“The girl who came to kill Rhiannon?” his mother prompted. “And she wasn’t very good at it?”
“Ohhhh! That girl.”
“Aye!” the queen cheered. “That girl!”
“Some bitch comes to kill your queen,” Bercelak snarled, Ghleanna still holding him away from Celyn. “And you did nothing?” He ended on a bellow.
“I followed my queen’s orders.” Celyn repeated the creed of the Queen’s Personal Guard. A creed that had been rewritten by Bercelak himself when Rhiannon came into power. “My duty is to follow her orders and no one else’s. For I am—”
“Shut up!” Bercelak roared.
“Oh, stop it, Bercelak!” Rhiannon snapped. “We have no time for this.” The queen smiled at Celyn. “Now, dear boy, where did you put that pale little girl? In that cute pub in town?” She snapped her fingers. “Or that lovely house by the river?”
“Uh . . .” Everyone was staring at Celyn again, so he had no option but to admit the truth. “Well . . . since she did try to kill you, my queen—”
“Gods, Celyn!” Rhiannon gasped. “Tell me you didn’t kill her!”
“No, no! You ordered me to keep her safe. So that’s what I did.”
Gwenvael snorted, easily spotting the hole in that story in seconds. He was so much smarter than any of his siblings gave him credit for. “And what exactly did keeping her safe entail, cousin?”
Celyn cleared his throat. “I . . . uh . . . I put her in the Garbhán Isle . . . jail.”
Rhiannon’s eyes grew wide as Annwyl and Talaith gasped in horror, Dagmar groaned and rolled her eyes, and Gwenvael laughed outright. The prissy bastard.
“You put that woman in jail?” Rhiannon yelled.
“She tried to kill you!”
“Oh, come on! She didn’t try very hard!”
“That’s not the point! Auntie Rhiannon—”
“Don’t you dare!” she snapped. “I gave you strict orders. And as my guard—”
“You gave me vague orders. ‘Keep her safe.’ That’s what I did. Because behind bars . . . where was she going?”
Dagmar lifted her hand and silenced everyone. Honestly, Celyn wanted to know, who really ruled the Southlands?
“It may not be that bad,” Dagmar said calmly. She focused on Celyn. “How many days since you put her in jail?”
“Uh . . . eight or nine . . .” Celyn cleared his throat. “. . . months ago.”
“Months?” Izzy roared. “You left a human female alone in a jail for months?”
“She tried to kill my queen!” he reasoned.
Rhiannon dramatically threw up her arms. “She’s probably been raped to death by now!”
“Rhiannon!” Talaith snapped.
“Don’t blame me, little girl. It’s your human males with no self-control. They see a pussy and they just have to fuck it!”
“Mum!”
“Oh, pipe down, Morfyd.”
“I’ll go get her,” Celyn stated, trying to keep everyone calm. “I’ll go get her.”
“Don’t you mean get what’s left of her, cousin?” Gwenvael asked.
Finally sick to death of the prissy royal, Celyn started to stalk across the room to cut his tongue out, but Brannie grabbed him by the hair and led him through the doorway and out into the hall.
“We’ll be right back,” she said before closing the door.
“I hate him,” Celyn snarled. “I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.”
“Be grateful he’s just a cousin and not one of our brothers.”
“If he was one of our brothers, he’d be scale-less, bald, and alone.”
“Let’s just go, brother,” she said, pushing him toward the exit.
As they walked, Brannie