Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(23)

He closed his eyes again and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Oh. You’re back.”

“I never left.”

“Yes, but you weren’t quite here either.”

Ragnar opened his eyes. “Is there something you want, princess?”

“I have questions.”

“Can they not wait? It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”

“Of course, you’re right. We can talk in the morning.” Ragnar watched her walk off, but he sensed she wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t answer her questions. Since they had some hard traveling coming up—none of which he planned to do with her relaxing on his back, filing her talons—he asked, “Is this about Esyld?”

She stopped, her tail scratching patterns in the sand. “If it is?”

“Then perhaps you can ask your questions quickly.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “How did you know about my aunt?”

Ragnar’s eyes nearly crossed. Why did he continue to expect more from her? But at least she seemed loyal to her aunt. Esyld would need friends when she was brought back to Dark Plains. Because Ragnar had no doubt that the queen would not give up until she found her sister. “Let me be clearer, princess. Ask your questions quickly and try not to make them inane.”

“Fine.” Keita returned to his side. “Have you f**ked her?” Ragnar cringed. “I see we’re sticking with inane.”

“Not if you’ve f**ked her. Then you’re betraying your lover.”

“She is not my lover.”

“Now?”

“Ever.”

The princess sat back on her haunches, eyes narrowing. “Why did my mother choose you?”

“I don’t know.”

“What has she planned for my aunt?”

“No idea.”

“What do you know?”

“A vast number of things. But what your mother is thinking is not one of them.”

An agitated talon tapped on the sand.

“Why didn’t you tell your mother you knew where your aunt was?” he asked.

“Because other than fleeing for her life after my mother choked the life from my grandmother—an escape most would consider wise—my aunt has done nothing to earn or keep the title of traitor.”

“Are you sure?”

“What does that mean?”

Ragnar lifted up the traveling bag that lay beside him and placed it in front of her. “Look inside.”

Using her tail, Keita gingerly opened the bag and lowered her head to peek inside.

Ragnar might normally be insulted by such actions, but he knew the truth. “Could you be more obvious about having brothers?”

“Among my kin, if you open a bag without checking first, you might find yourself suddenly face-to-face with a poisonous sea snake—and you know how much their bites sting.”

When nothing slithered or leaped out of the bag, she picked it up with her front claws and dug inside.

“I don’t think you have enough parchment in here. And yes, that’s sarcasm.” She paused, pulling a robe out of his bag. “A monk? Really?”

“An innocent nobleman’s daughter?” he asked in return. “Really?”

“Point made, warlord.” She shoved the robe back in the bag and continued to dig. “Ooooh, shiny.”

Ragnar watched the royal closely as she pulled the necklace out from the bottom of the bag and held it up. Her gaze moved from the necklace to Ragnar. “When you’re alone do you also wear a matching gown and pretty pink slippers to go with this?”

“It was in your aunt’s house. Over her bed.”

“Are the Northland dragons truly that poor you must steal a She-dragon’s lone piece of jewelry?”

“Do you not recognize the style?”

She studied the piece and finally shrugged. “I’ve seen this style, as you call it, in every market in every town in—”

“Copies. Badly and cheaply made. This, however, is not.” He took hold of the necklace and turned it over. “It’s signed by the creator. Fucinus.”

“I’m not familiar with his work.”

“Not surprising. His only shop is in the heart of the Quintilian Sovereigns.”

The royal blinked. “So?”

Ragnar handed the necklace back to her. “When was the last time you were in the Sovereigns, princess? Has your mother an alliance with the iron dragons that I am not aware of?”

“Are you suggesting…Esyld couldn’t have…she wouldn’t…she can’t be that…” Keita’s talons wrapped tight around the necklace. “You can’t show this to my mother.”

“Do you understand the risk you take if I don’t tell her?”

“I always know the risks I take when dealing with my mother.”

“And yet you’d keep this from her? Perhaps the only clue we have?”

“A clue perhaps. But my mother will take one look at this and leap, headlong, to a conclusion. That’s what she does, and by the gods she does it well.”

“But protecting Esyld now—”

“I didn’t say I would protect her. I simply want real proof. This necklace could have been smuggled out of the Sovereigns. It wouldn’t be the first or the last. Esyld could have found it, bought it. It could have been given to her. All these things are possibilities but once my mother sees this, the chance to explore all that will be gone. So I’m saying again, you can’t show this to my mother.”