“Addolgar, I’m trying to protect you and, unfortunately, now all of your kin.”
“The kin you just slapped around?”
“They’re still breathing, aren’t they? Because, usually, I don’t allow for that last part. I was just trying to leave. Your family decided to keep me here.”
“Because I’m trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need your protection, you git!”
“And I don’t need yours, brat, but here we are!” Addolgar folded his arms across his chest and suddenly realized something. “You’ve made me angry.”
“I’ve been angry for hours now.”
“We’re not talking about you. You’re Braith of the Darkness. I’m Addolgar the Cheerful. I’ve earned this name, and you’re ruining it by being unreasonable.”
“You throw me into a tree—”
“That was for your own good.”
“—have me attacked by your kin—”
“You brought that on yourself.”
“—and leave me alone with Brigida the Foul, of all She-dragons—”
“She got away from us. Normally none of us would have done that. Not even to our worst enemy.”
“—and I’m being unreasonable.”
Addolgar nodded. “See? You do understand.”
Eyes closing, Braith sighed once more, her head dropping into her open hands. “I can’t believe I once thought you were adorable.”
“Really?” Addolgar grinned. “You think I’m adorable?”
That’s when Braith dropped to the bed, using a pillow to cover her face.
“Wait. Does that mean ‘Yes, I think you’re adorable’ or ‘No, I don’t think you’re adorable’?”
When Addolgar pulled that pillow off her, she refused to open her eyes. She didn’t want to see his handsome face. This whole thing was ridiculous. She didn’t understand what she was doing. What he was doing. What anyone was doing!
“Well?” Addolgar asked her.
Braith finally opened her eyes and found Addolgar leaning right over her. “Well what?”
“Do you really think I’m adorable?”
Braith raised her manacled hands, gripping his chain-mail shirt with her fingers. She lifted her body up by pulling herself closer to his face. Then, while trying to rein in her anger, and failing, she snarled, “I am trying to help you!”
“I know,” he said simply. “We’re trying to help each other. Like friends.”
“Friends?”
“Aye. We’re friends now.”
“Are we?”
“Of course we are!” he replied cheerfully—just like his name. “Why wouldn’t we be friends?”
“Because you threw me into a tree?”
“To help you. You keep forgetting that part.”
Unsure what else to do, Braith released her grip on his shirt and dropped back to the bed.
“So are you just going to keep me here? Locked in chains like some human prisoner?” She studied him. “Maybe I should just shift to dragon and be done with all this.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” he told her with what seemed to be an astounding amount of confidence, considering what they’d recently been through. “I know you wouldn’t harm innocent humans, nor destroy my father’s property.”
Damn the bastard, but he was right.
“Look, Braith, once I’m sure you’re not going to do anything incredibly stupid, I’ll release you. And going to the Queen to tell her about your father—incredibly stupid.”
“So is hiding from her.”
“You’re not hiding. You’re trying to fix the problem. We’re trying to fix the problem. And we will.”
“This isn’t your fight, Addolgar.”
“It’s more my fight than yours. It was me they’d planned to kill. That alone will bring every Cadwaladr within a thousand leagues to exact revenge. Trust me when I say you don’t want to be in the middle of that shit storm.”
“What does it matter? Your family already hates me.”
Addolgar gazed at her for several moments before asking, “Why would you say that?”
“Because they attacked me in your father’s courtyard?”
“Only because you battered Ghleanna. And she only tried to stop you because of me. Actually . . . my kin was quite impressed. Once we wrapped up their wounds and snapped bones back into place. Where did you learn to fight like that?”
“My mother. And she learned from her mother. The females on my mother’s side are, what my father has always called when he was feeling nice, hearty.”
“Hearty’s good. The Cadwaladrs respect hearty.”
Braith couldn’t help but snort a little laugh at that while she tried to figure out where to put her damn hands with these damn manacles and chains on them.
“What’s so funny?” Addolgar asked.
“Lady Katarina wasn’t exactly what I’d call hearty . . . and you didn’t seem to have any problems with her.”
“Well . . . no. She wasn’t hearty. Not like you.” And Braith briefly entertained using the chains to choke the life from the big idiot. “But she’s a nice lass.”
“Addolgar, she poisoned you.”
“But she didn’t kill me. That’s what’s important.”
Her mother had been right, all those years ago, when she’d told Braith, “Males will always make excuses for the pretty.” It was too bad, really. Braith had always hoped Addolgar wasn’t like most males. But in the end, they were all the same, weren’t they?
“You’re sneering at me,” Addolgar noted.
“Am I?”
“Your lip is curled, so it does look like you’re sneering.”
“I don’t mean to.” She really didn’t. “I just don’t know how we’re going to fix this. My father . . . he’s destroyed my life, the honor of my bloodline. He’s destroyed everything. And for what?” she asked. “To take the throne of Addiena?”
“That seems like a foolish goal. He’d have to get rid of Addiena, which is near impossible with her Royal Guard protecting her. And then there’s her offspring, two of which are witches.” He shrugged massive shoulders. “In other words, the House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar is not to be fucked with, I’m afraid.”
“Perhaps my father’s raised an army.”
“Wouldn’t you know if he had? Wouldn’t he discuss it with you first?”
“My father and I aren’t . . . close. We never have been. He wanted two things when he chose my mother as his mate: sons and her royal title. I was never part of his plan and I mean nothing to him.”
“Then why did he involve you in this at all?”
Braith admitted the sad truth. “Because he hates me. Always has. He knew I’d never go along with this. I’m a Daughter of the House of Penarddun, and our oath is our bond. He’s never had the guts to outright kill me, so he was hoping I’d go along, put up a fight, and one of the soldiers would do the nasty job for him. This way he keeps his talons clean and he still has his precious sons.”
She saw a very dark frown on Addolgar’s face, and he said, “Or you could have just gone along with his plan.”
“The honor of my mother’s bloodline means everything to me,” she snapped, “just as it meant everything to her and to all our female ancestors who came before us. You may be from the Cadwaladr Clan, Addolgar the Cheerful, but I’m a direct bloodline from the House of Penarddun. A Daughter. That means something to us. So, I’d rather be executed knowing I’d kept our honor than live a millennium in shame.”
Addolgar said nothing as he gazed into her face. She didn’t know what he was looking for or what he expected to find. Instead, she held his gaze until a voice at the doorway said, “Then we’d best figure out how to get your granite fists out of this, Braith of the Darkness.”
It was Ghleanna. She leaned against the door frame, a wet cloth held to her swollen cheek. Her nose had already been put back into place by kinder hands than the one that had knocked it out of joint.