The Dragon Who Loved Me (Dragon Kin #5)(105)

“Thank you, Annwyl!”

“You’ve earned this, Izzy.” She pushed Izzy back until she crouched in front of her. “I don’t know what I would have done without you, especial y these last couple of years. You protected me, protected your comrades, and fought like one of the gods of war. You stuck with me when everyone else thought I’d completely gone round the bend and made sure I got back here alive and wel to my children . . . to Fearghus. So thank you, Iseabail, Daughter of Talaith and Briec. Thank you for everything.”

“Annwyl—”

Brannie screaming Izzy’s name out in the courtyard cut off her next words and her queen grinned at her. “Go on. I’m sure your grandfather’s spoken to Brannie, and I know you two have some girlish squealing to do that wil only manage to set my nerves on edge.” Izzy nodded, then reached over and hugged Annwyl again, whispering, “I’m loyal to you until my last breath, my queen.”

“Gods, let’s hope that’s not for a very long time or I’l never hear the end of it from your mother!” Izzy laughed and Annwyl pushed her away. “Go. See Brannie before she pees her leggings in excitement.” With a nod, Izzy ran out the Great Hal doors, stopping at the top of the stairs. Brannie stood at the bottom, the pair staring at each other. They’d been through much together and Izzy knew that over the next few years they’d be separated, sent off on different assignments, different missions.

But they’d been a team that no one could touch and nothing would ever take away al they’d gone through.

At the same time, they both squealed and Izzy leaped down the stairs, slamming into Brannie, knowing the She-dragon was one of the few females who could handle that. Spinning in a circle while managing to jump up and down, they squealed more than seemed right that early in the morning. They squealed and squealed until Izzy heard her mother ask, “What’s going on?” At that point—they stopped squealing.

Annwyl was digging into her second bowl of porridge, trying desperately to ignore the squealing from outside when Dagmar made her way downstairs. Poor thing, she looked exhausted as she sat down across from Annwyl, the servants putting a large cup of tea in front of her.

“Morning, Dagmar.” Annwyl’s Battle Lord blinked, and squinted across the table at her. “Your spectacles,” Annwyl prompted.

“I must have forgotten them upstairs.”

“Actual y, they’re on top of your head, luv.”

Dagmar reached up, touching the smal round spectacles she wore except when she was asleep or reading. “Oh . . . there they are.” She placed them on, yawned.

“You al right?”

“Fine. Why?”

“Because you look like I guess I looked nearly two weeks ago.” She leaned in a bit. “Gwenvael missed you, didn’t he?”

“More than seems reasonably possible.”

Annwyl laughed, licking her spoon. “I think it’s cute and rather romantic.”

“And that’s why you can shut the battle-f*ck up, my queen.”

Laughing harder, Annwyl reached into a bowl of raisins. She leaned her head back to drop a few into her mouth, and that’s when she saw Talaith standing next to her, seething, arms crossed over her chest.

Annwyl held out her hand. “Raisin?”

Talaith slapped the raisins from her hand. Honestly, no one respected royals anymore.

“You made that stupid, stupid girl a corporal?”

“She deserved it. Your daughter is one of the best soldiers I’ve ever had the honor of—ow! Let go my nose! Let go my nose!”

“You vicious, horrible, female!” Talaith slapped her own hand off, which hurt Annwyl’s nose more than she thought possible since it was stil a bit sore from being broken only a few days before. “I thought we were over with this insanity! That she’d come home—”

“She has!”

“—and that she’d stay for good.”

“Oh . . . yeah, that’s not happening. Ow! Let go my nose!”

“Talaith,” a new voice interjected, “you had to know this was going to happen. Izzy’s a natural.” They al looked down the length of the table at Keita.

“How long have you been sitting there?” Talaith asked, releasing Annwyl’s nose.

“Since you started yel ing at Lady Insanity.”

“That’s an unfair title. . . .” Annwyl muttered. “Mostly.”

“Gods, I’m starving.” Keita crinkled up what she referred to as her “adorable” nose. “I don’t want porridge, though.” She motioned to one of the servants. “Have any meat?” She whispered loudly, “Perhaps a little dog?”

“Don’t make me kil you,” Dagmar warned around a yawn. “I have no qualms about kil ing you.”

“Speaking of which,” Annwyl cut in. “Where are my dogs?”

“In their own kennel.” Dagmar glared at her. “They’d become unruly under your handling. They’re worse than your horse.”

“Because they know they’re better than everyone else.”

Morfyd walked into the Great Hal from the courtyard. “How wonderful!” she announced. “Izzy just told me the good . . .” Her words faded off when she saw Talaith glowering, and she finished with “. . . horrible, terrible news about her promotion. Just horrible.”