Dragon On Top (Dragon Kin #0.4)(47)

Chapter 19

The Sand Dragon King’s first born son and his entourage of fifty, a count that did not include his battalion of warrior dragons, gazed down at Rhiannon for several minutes. He said nothing as he watched the queen, then sniffed and turned from her.

Bercelak had his sword out and almost embedded in the Prince’s back but the black dragon was taken down by at least four of his brothers and three of his sisters.

“I’ll sign,” the Prince said, sounding more bored than he’d been on the trip—which was no small feat. He represented his father on this, the king refusing to sign anything until he or someone he trusted had met with the new queen. So instead of Bram getting the signature he needed and returning to Rhiannon with alliance in claw, he’d been forced to bring the Prince and his entourage back to the queen’s court. It would have been an intolerable and long trip, too, if not for Ghleanna.

Bram held up the parchment and handed him a quill. The Prince scratched off his signature and walked out, his entourage and guards following.

Ghleanna motioned to several of her cousins, “Escort them to the Borderlands. Keep ’em safe until they cross.”

Once the Prince had left her court, Rhiannon snarled, “The arrogance!”

“He is the Dragon King’s first born and heir to his throne,” Bram reminded her.

“A throne of sand. As if that’s anything to brag about.” Rhiannon closed her eyes and roared, “Bercelak! Would you leave your brothers and sisters alone!”

“They started it!”

Rhiannon opened her eyes and smiled at Bram. “So my Lord Bram, it seems there are traitors in my midst.”

“Aye, my queen.”

“Did you get any names from Feoras?”

“Well . . .”

“I took his head before we had the chance,” Ghleanna admitted.

“Honestly!” Rhiannon shook her head. “Just like your brother. Kill first, ask questions of the corpse later. Well . . . I guess I’ll just have every Elder interrogated until someone admits his involvement—”

“Or,” Bram quickly cut in, “I could do a quiet inquiry into the matter. Perhaps I can find more accurate information than torture can provide.”

“Did I say torture? I don’t remember saying torture. But your mercy, as always, leads the way. So you have my permission.”

“Thank you, Majesty. And the truce?”

“Truce?”

“The one you wanted with Empress Helena?”

“The squid? Oh, yes. Yes.” Although Ghleanna knew the conniving cow forgot nothing. “Leave the documents with Elder Margh.”

“Very well, my queen.”

“And thank you, Lord Bram, for all your excellent work and sacrifice.”

“I’m at your service and the service of your throne.”

She smirked. “I know.” Rhiannon glanced at the alliance document the Sand Dragon had signed. “But I must say that when Bercelak and I have our offspring, we will never allow them to be as arrogant as that!”

Ghleanna passed one quick glance to Bram before they both replied, “Uh-huh.”

Please don’t hug me. Please don’t hug me.

But she did. And now Bram had two sets of black eyes glaring at him.

Finally, he said out loud, “It’s not me! I swear!”

Rhiannon laughed and leaned back from Bram. “So cute! Isn’t he cute, Bercelak?”

“No.”

“Bercelak’s only teasing.”

“No, I’m not.”

And then Ghleanna was there, prying Rhiannon’s forearms from around Bram’s shoulders.

“Back off, she-viper! This one’s mine. You’ve got yours. Now you’re stuck with him!”

“Oy!” Bercelak bellowed.

Bram pulled Ghleanna away from the one Dragonwitch who could turn her blood to acid. “Everyone just calm down. There’s no point in—”

“And what the hells is going on with you and my sister?” Bercelak demanded.

“Uh . . .”

Ghleanna stepped between Bram and her brother.

“I wouldn’t challenge him if I were you, Bercelak.”

The greatest Dragonwarrior snorted. “Is that right?”

“He’s got skills.”

“What skills?”

“He’s a right good head-butter. You should see what he did with the Fins.”

Good gods, had the female gone mad?

Bercelak moved in. “Their heads are soft—like pudding. Not like mine. Hard as granite.”

That’s when Ghleanna said, “Addolgar says his head is harder than yours.”

“That’s ’cause it is,” Addolgar happily tossed in.

“Centaur shit.”

“Come on then, brother. Try me.”

Bercelak refocused his attention on his brother and Ghleanna grabbed Bram’s claw and dragged him out of the throne room.

“Wait . . . are they really going to—”

“Head butt each other until one passes out or dies of blood on the brain? Yep. They really are.”

“And they protect our queen and lands. How reassuring.”

“You’ll get used to it.”