“I don’t know why you are using that accusing tone, cousin. I don’t appreciate it.”
“What have you done?” Brannie demanded, standing tall.
“There it is again. Still don’t like it.”
“Answer me, Keita. What have you done?”
With a dramatic sigh—although Keita always seemed dramatic to Aidan—she lifted her skirts, turned, and flounced off.
With a growl, Brannie followed and Aidan went after both She-dragons.
He quickly caught up with Keita as she reached a small group of royals. She faced them and with a majestic wave of her hand announced, “I did this.”
They were all dead. Every last one of them. After they’d had a drink of water from the nearby pond, he was guessing.
“Oh, Keita,” Brannie sighed, shaking her head.
“What? What is that tone?”
“Why did you kill them? Are you just bored?”
“Of course I’m not!”
“If you’re that bored, there’s a whole battlefront you can go to where you can kill to your heart’s desire.”
“Oh stop, Branwen. I killed these people because they had to die.”
“Because you were bored? Or do voices tell you things? Evil things?”
Keita rolled her eyes . . . again, dramatically.
“For the love of the gods,” Keita sighed. “They were transporting gold that would then be shipped to Duke Salebiri so he could hire more troops.”
“He hires troops?”
“They’re not all Zealots, cousin. Anyway, I was traveling with them, to see if my information was correct, and it was. So I poisoned the pond water and there you go.”
“And there you go?” Brannie barked. “What if someone else drinks it? We almost drank it! We were going to give the water to Caswyn and Uther, too!”
“Who knew you idiots were roaming around here?”
“That’s not the point.”
“The poison I used has a very short lifespan and with the fresh water coming in from that waterfall, everything should be fine in a . . . week or two.”
“Week or two?”
“I had to make sure they were dead.”
Brannie briefly closed her eyes and Aidan winced. He knew she was getting angrier by the second.
Finally she asked, “Why aren’t you safe back in Devenallt Mountain, cousin? Or, even better, with your bloody mate in the Northlands?”
Keita raised a finger. “First, I see I need to remind you, again, that I am unmarked by any male. I have no mate.”
“You’ve had twelve of his offspring. Twelve! How can you not be Ragnar the Cunning’s mate?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you, child.”
“I am not a child anymore, Keita.”
“Well, you never were,” Aidan pointed out.
Brannie glared at him.
“Because you’re dragon,” he explained, which got him one of Brannie’s rare eye-crossings.
“You know . . .” Keita suddenly studied them both and Aidan was dragon enough to admit . . . that made him very nervous.
“We know what?” Brannie asked, also sounding a little terrified.
Keita’s head tipped to the side and one long finger tapped the side of her mouth as she studied them.
And, for the first time ever, Aidan saw what Éibhear had always said. “If you look closely, you realize Keita resembles my mother more than Morfyd ever could.”
Aidan had dismissed Éibhear’s statement, believing that Morfyd, with her white hair and crystal-blue eyes, was like a twin to the queen. But Éibhear had been right all along, hadn’t he?
Aidan knew that now as he watched the princess coldly size them up like cattle she’d found at an open market.
“Plus you also have Uther and Caswyn with you?”
“They’re wounded.”
“I’m sure that can be fixed.” She nodded. “This could work out perfectly,” Keita announced. “Yes. Perfect. I can definitely use you all.”
Aidan just bet she could.
“Use us for what?” Brannie asked.
“To help me—”
“No,” Brannie stated quickly, with no room for argument. But Keita found room. She always found room.
“If you’d only listen—”
“No.”
“It’s import—”
“No.”
Keita put her hands on her hips, her expression now truly annoyed. “I am a princess. I order you, Branwen the Awful.”
And when Brannie bent over at the waist, her hands on her knees, her hysterical laughter ringing out over the entire forest—Aidan wasn’t exactly surprised.
Then Brannie looked at him. She looked at him in that way she had.
And that’s when he started laughing, too.
* * *
“Oh, thank you, Keita,” Brannie stated with all honesty. She wiped tears from her eyes. “Poor Aidan and I had been sniping at each other the last hour or so, but you made us feel so much better. Didn’t she, Aidan?”
He nodded since he was unable to reply verbally. What with the hysterical laughter and all.
“I’m not joking, Branwen. I’m ordering you all to accompany me on my journey.”
“Stop! Stop!” Brannie begged, now leaning against Aidan’s shoulder, unable to keep herself standing. “You’re killing us!”
Keita’s dark brown eyes narrowed on Brannie, but what did her ridiculous cousin expect? That she actually had any control of this situation? Yes. She was a princess. Yes. She was royal born. But during a war the only ones with true power over troops were the queen and those given military titles. Like Branwen. Like her mother. Like all her uncles and aunts. Not like Keita. Never Keita.
She loved her cousin, she really did, but she’d never taken her seriously. Not unless it involved juicy gossip about the family or other useless royals like herself.
Still . . . no point in hurting Keita’s feelings—assuming she had any feelings—so Brannie choked back her laughter and reached over to slap Aidan’s shoulder to get him to stop laughing as well.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He stood tall, his laughter under control.
Until they made the mistake of locking eyes. Then they both burst out laughing once more, Brannie bending over at the waist, Aidan forced to lean against Brannie this time in order to continue standing.
“We’re sorry, Keita,” Brannie gasped out, seeing through her tears that her cousin had closed her eyes. She assumed in frustration. “It’s just—”
“Finding amusement at my daughter’s expense?” Brannie heard a voice ask. A voice she recognized better than her own.
Brannie wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hands, and she gawked at her Aunt Rhiannon, who was standing not too far from her. She was in her human form, completely naked, and eating plums from a nearby tree.
Plum trees? There were no plum trees in this forest.
“Auntie . . . Rhiannon?” Brannie shook her head, glanced around, confused. “How did you . . . ?”
Aidan was still laughing so she punched his shoulder and pointed. When he saw Rhiannon, the Mì-runach immediately dropped to one knee, head bowed.
Brannie fought her desire to sneer and roll her eyes. Her aunt wouldn’t appreciate that one bit.
To avoid doing any of that, Brannie looked around again and now understood what was confusing her. They were no longer in the forest with the poisoned pond. They were somewhere else.
“My sacred space, dear,” Rhiannon replied, even though Brannie hadn’t asked the question. “Much easier than sending messages back and forth through Keita since she can never seem to get that right.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Keita complained while reaching for one of the plums hanging near her. She had one in her hand but her mother slapped it away.
“Mum!”
“My plums!” Rhiannon snarled before smiling sweetly at Brannie and Aidan. “Stand, my dear Aidan the Divine. Stand.”
He did but, to Brannie’s growing disgust, she immediately noticed he still didn’t make eye contact with the queen.