Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(71)

“Izzy doesn’t seem to be in a very good mood,” Fal observed.

Izzy was scowling so hard, she almost looked like Uncle Bercelak, which was strange since none of them were actually related to Izzy by blood.

It didn’t matter, though. They were all kin now. And after two years and countless battles, Branwen had grown impossibly close to Izzy. She was nicer than any of Branwen’s sisters and more understanding than any of her brothers. True, they were more than six decades apart in age, and Iz was tragically human, but it wasn’t something that mattered. Not to them.

Branwen released her brother’s hair and stepped over the log he sat on. “Izzy?”

Izzy stopped, faced her cousin. “Did you know?”

“Did I know what?”

“You mean about your mother?” Fal asked, looking all sorts of bored.

He shrugged. “I knew.”

“You knew what?” Branwen demanded of her brother, but he never got a chance to answer. Izzy picked up one of the logs they used for sitting and with one good swing, knocked Fal up and back into their brother Celyn, who’d come up behind him to find out what was going on. Both dragons hit the ground hard, and Izzy tossed the log down, the ground shaking a bit from the weight of it.

“Can you take me back to Dark Plains?” Izzy asked her.

“Aye, but—”

“General Ghleanna wants me to give something to my queen as soon as possible, so it’ll be faster this way.”

“Anything, Iz, but—”

“Five minutes then?” And not bothering to wait for Branwen’s answer, Izzy walked off.

Celyn stood next to Branwen now, both ignoring their groaning brother with the broken jaw. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”

“I’ll take her back to Dark Plains,” Celyn offered.

“Like hell you will.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Don’t be stupid,” she whispered and motioned to poor Fal. “Take care of our brother. I think his jaw’s broken.”

“Then maybe he should have kept his mouth shut for once.”

“There she is!” Briec walked into the room, and for a moment, Keita actually believed he spoke of her. She was wrong. “There’s my perfect, perfect daughter.” He removed the child from Keita’s arms without asking permission. As always, her brother was rude!

“Isn’t she perfect, Keita?” He motioned to Fearghus and his offspring.

“Unlike those two.”

In response, Fearghus’s little girl pulled back her arm to toss her wooden blade at her uncle’s head, but Fearghus yanked it away from her before she could carry through.

The baby clung to Briec, small arms wrapped around his neck. But, for the first time, Keita noticed that she didn’t smile.

“Does she not smile?” Keita asked, and she knew it was the wrong question when both Talaith and Fearghus winced and Briec snapped, “She’ll smile when she’s gods-damn ready!”

“Don’t bark at me!” Keita snapped back. “It was a simple question.”

“Well, if you’d been here, you wouldn’t have to ask those bloody questions!”

“Bring that up one more time, Briec, and I’m—”

“Flouncing back to your cave?” Fearghus asked.

“Oh, shut up!”

“You know what we haven’t told her?” Talaith suddenly asked, a big grin on her face as she jumped to her feet. “The children’s names.” Talaith stroked her hand down Fearghus’s girl’s black hair. “This is Talwyn.” Then she tickled the boy’s cheek. “This is Talan.” She held up her hands and, as if she were offering something for sale, she announced, “And this…this is Rhianwen.”

Keita’s eyes narrowed, and she stepped away from her safe window, barely noticing Fearghus’s twins were crawling away from her until they again hid behind their father’s shoulders. “Rhianwen?” Keita all but roared.

“You named her Rhianwen?”

Briec raised a silver brow. “Is there a problem with that, sister?”

“Why not just curse her with the name Despair? Or Bringer of Misery?”

“I happen to like the name Rhianwen. And before you say it, Rhianwen is not that similar to Mother’s name.”

“You’re pathetic!” Keita accused her brother. “Always sucking up to that she-cow! At least Fearghus had some backbone with his naming!” Briec turned on her. “Well, when you breed some hatchlings of your own, Mistress Whine, you can name them what you’d like! But as far as I’m concerned, any perfect offspring that are sprung from my loins deserves a majestic name— and that majestic name is Rhianwen! ” Disgusted beyond all reckoning, Keita stormed out of the room and down the hallway to the stairs. She was cutting through the Great Hall when Ren caught up to her.

“You look ready to roast an entire town. What’s wrong?”

“Rhianwen!” she exclaimed. “That suck-up named his daughter Rhianwen!”

“Rhianwen?” Ren exclaimed back. “Why not just call her Misery or She Who Despairs?”

Keita stopped, turned, and threw her arms around Ren, hugging him tight. “This is why I’ll always love you, my friend.” Laughing, he patted her back. “I know, old friend. I know.” Talaith shook her head. “That went well.”