A Tale Of Two Dragons (Dragon Kin 0.2)(8)

“That’s not what I meant.” She turned her body a bit so she could see Addolgar clearly. “I don’t trust these guards.”

Addolgar stepped closer. “Why not?”

Braith did not answer right away. She might be attracted to Addolgar, but that didn’t mean she could trust him. In fact, Braith trusted few, which was why she spent most of her time alone in her cave. It was safer.

Addolgar knelt down on one knee, one forearm resting on his massive thigh.

“What is it, Braith?” When she still didn’t answer: “You can trust me.”

Perhaps she could, but Braith had been protecting herself by herself for more than a century, since the death of her beloved mother, when her mother’s kin had sent her a letter saying they wanted nothing to do with her because she had her father’s blood coursing through her veins. So no, she wouldn’t suddenly confide in Addolgar the Cheerful, but what she would say was, “Watch the guards. They are loyal to my father, not to the Queen.”

Addolgar’s head tipped to the side. “But your father’s loyal to the Queen, is he not?”

“My father is loyal to my father. I have always made sure never to forget that.”

From the camp they could hear Lady Katarina calling out to Addolgar. Something about tea. Braith hated tea.

“We’ll be eating soon,” Addolgar said.

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Braith replied, turning her body back around to face the lake.

Addolgar stood and began to head back to camp. But he stopped just before stepping into the trees. “Want me to save you some ox?” he asked kindly. Why did he have to be so bloody nice?

Braith didn’t even bother to turn around. “No, thank you.”

She heard him walk off, which wasn’t really hard since he stomped like a moose. Once she knew she was alone, she let out a long sigh.

Briefly, she entertained the thought of breaking her oath to the Queen and just flying off. It would be easy enough; no one really cared that she was here. No one cared about her at all. But she knew she couldn’t do that—her oath was her bond. Just as her mother had taught her.

After allowing herself to really wallow in all that self-pity, Braith decided to head back to camp. But as she stood, she knew dragons were near again. Once more, she brought up her fists and spun around, ready to fight.

Strong claws covered handsome faces because they, if no one else, knew what those fists could truly do.

“A little nervous, sister?” her brother asked from behind his raised claws.

“Always a little nervous,” her other brother said.

And once Braith saw her older brothers standing in front of her, in the middle of nowhere, she knew she’d been right—her father was going to betray the Queen.

By the time Addolgar returned to the campsite, Lady Katarina was waiting for him with fresh tea and biscuits. She smiled at him as he approached.

“I was afraid you’d abandoned me, Sergeant.”

“No, no. Not at all. Just checking on Lady Braith.”

“She doesn’t seem very happy,” she murmured.

“Oh, she always looks like that.” Addolgar sat down by the fire and took the tea from Lady Katarina, holding the metal cup between both claws. He sipped it, forced himself not to wince at the bitter flavor. He’d never been a fan of tea. He preferred water . . . or just plain ale. He really liked ale. “She just has a lot on her mind.”

“I’m sure she does. In fact, I think she has you on her mind.”

“Me?” Addolgar chuckled. “Doubt that, Lady.”

“Why would you say that?”

“She’s never shown me the least bit of interest. I doubt she’d start now.”

She held out a tin of biscuits and Addolgar picked one up with the tips of two claws, nibbled it, rather than shoving it into his mouth before grabbing a handful more. He worried he’d have to eat the oxen like this as well. All polite nibbles and patient rendering, rather than tearing and ripping until he could get to the steamy insides like he usually did at mealtime.

She motioned to the tea, apparently done with the topic of Braith of the Darkness. “Drink up. The bitterness will go away in a bit.”

Addolgar nodded and took another gulp of the tea.

He didn’t think Lady Katarina was right, though, because he couldn’t imagine the tea tasting better anytime soon.

Lady Katarina sat down beside Addolgar. “You’re very . . . sweet, Sergeant Addolgar.”

Addolgar couldn’t help but smile. “You mean . . . compared to my family?”

“Oh, no, no—”

“It’s all right, Lady.” He shrugged. “I’m a Cadwaladr. I have no shame about that. No . . . insecurities.”

“You’re proud of them.”

“Of course I am. They’re my kin.”

“And they’ll be there for you? No matter what?”

Addolgar frowned, confused by the question. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

“I’d heard they can be”—she thought a moment—“harsh. To each other, I mean.”

“Some might say. But no more than any one of us can handle. And usually not more than any one of us deserves.”

“Good.” Her smile was soft . . . and a little sad. “I’m glad.”