Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(139)

Putting his arm around Keita’s shoulders, he said, “Come, Keita. I want you to meet someone.”

Athol took her through a door in the back of his private rooms that led to a staircase. With his assistant behind him, he escorted Keita to the fourth floor—and to another set of rooms that she’d never been to during her time at Castle Moor.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“These are my private chambers for special guests.”

“I am in no mood for any of that, Athol,” Keita said, trying to pull away.

“Of course you’re not. That’s not what’s here.” He led her through several rooms until he reached glass doors in the very back. He knocked once and opened them, stepping inside.

“Keita, it is my pleasure to introduce you to your mother’s cousin and Overlord Thracius’s wife—Lady Franseza.”

Keita had heard about Franseza. She, like many who’d feared Rhiannon’s reign, had fled when Keita’s mother took power. But no one had any idea Franseza had joined forces with Thracius and become his wife.

Then again, no one had really cared about Franseza at the time.

“My mother’s cousin?” she asked, making sure to sound appropriately confused.

“Hello, my dear.”

Franseza was dressed in the Quintilian fashion of a long, sleeveless tunic draped around her human frame, gold bangles on her wrists, gold earrings dangling from her ears, and a thick gold necklace around her throat.

“I have waited so long to meet you, dearest cousin.”

“Meet me? Why?”

“We can discuss all that later.” Franseza held her arms out. “Come.

Let me get a better look at you.”

Keita stepped forward, moving around a large bed. But she stopped, her gaze catching sight of the naked female lying on the floor, a thick collar around her neck, and the chain attached to it locking her to the bed.

“Esyld!” Keita ran to her aunt, carefully turning her over, and cradling her in her arms. “What have you done to her?” Franseza cringed dramatically. “That was horrible of me, wasn’t it?” And the beauty of that statement was that it was said without even a trace of sarcasm. “I know. I know. On the surface it looks terrible, but she simply wouldn’t cooperate.”

Esyld’s eyes opened, and when she saw Keita’s face, she grabbed hold of her niece’s fur cape. “I said nothing,” she told Keita, hysterical. “I swear, Keita. I told her nothing!”

“Shh-shh. It’s all right, Esyld.”

“I don’t think she realized that was part of the problem. Not telling me things. If she’d only told me things, I wouldn’t have had to hurt her so. That was hard for me, you know? We are first cousins after all.”

Keita felt sick just hearing the female’s voice, but nothing had her more worried than the fact that her aunt was cold to the touch. She was a She-dragon of Dark Plains. She was made of fire. The last thing Esyld should ever feel was cold.

Hands clasped together, steepled forefingers pressed under her chin, Franseza asked, “Now, Keita, how would you like to one day rule the land of Dark Plains?”

“Rule? Dark Plains?” Keita had to work hard to keep the game up when she felt her aunt dying in her arms. But she knew this scenario for the test—and warning—that it was.

“I know it sounds impossible, my dear, but I promise you it’s not. You just have to trust me.”

Desperate, her aunt clung to her tighter, shaking her head. “Keita, please.”

“It’s all right, Esyld. Really.” She kissed her aunt’s forehead and carefully lowered her back to the floor. She petted Esyld’s cheek once, deciding then it was time to end this game. So Keita closed her eyes and sent out one thought: It’s time, Ragnar.

She stood and faced Franseza.

The She-dragon’s smile grew wider. “Are you about to challenge me, Keita the Viper? Don’t be foolish.”

“I’m never that.” Keita pointed at the plate of fresh fruit on the table beside Franseza. “Isn’t the fruit here delicious? I’ve always enjoyed it myself.”

“Yes. It’s very tasty. And so juicy, I’ve been picking some every day.”

“From the tree that hangs over Athol’s gate, yes?” Athol took a step forward. “Keita?”

Keita giggled. “All right. I can’t lie…much. Honestly though, Franseza, I’ve been watching you for days. Every morning you’d come out, pick your fruit, and nibble on it throughout the day, between fresh cow carcasses that are delivered. And the servants don’t touch the fruit anymore because you already had a servant girl whipped who did. That is just like the Irons, isn’t it? Claiming everything as your own.”

“You little—”

“It wasn’t too bitter, was it? What I used? I do try to be so careful about taste and all.”

Her breath growing short, her hand on her stomach, Franseza asked,

“Do you think I’m alone here, that I have no one to protect me?”

“I know you’re not alone.” Keita tossed her hair. “You know, the poison would be much less effective if you were dragoness. Too bad about Athol’s spell keeping you in human form.”

The Iron looked at Athol, but he only shook his head. “I can’t. If you can shift, so can she. And anyone else she has with her.”