What a Dragon Should Know (Dragon Kin #3)(18)

“Don’t you worry you’ll need a god one day?”

“No. They can’t be relied upon. One is better off standing on her feet, relying on herself rather than falling on her knees praying to gods who will not listen.”

He chuckled. “She would have liked you.”

“Would she?”

“She liked thinkers. ‘Those who think beyond their day-to-day cage,’ she’d say.”

“You really have met her. I’ve only read that phrase in some letters of hers a friend gave to me. Never in her books. Were you there when she passed?”

“No.” He winced at the memory. “We stopped speaking when she caught me in bed with one of her daughters. She was so mad. Came after me with a pitchfork.”

Her demure pose ended when her hands rested haughtily on her hips. “You defiled her daughter?”

“I didn’t defile anyone. Her daughter was a young widow. I was merely helping her back into life.”

“How altruistic of you.”

He grinned. “I thought so.” Gwenvael dropped his arms out at his sides and fell back on the bed. “Tub! Or I start stomping my feet and crying.”

“Please do. My father looked moments from throwing you out anyway.”

“He did, didn’t he?”

“A good crying fit should toss him right over the edge.”

“That would be a shame now, wouldn’t it?”

“Would it?”

“It would. Annwyl’s a powerful queen. An alliance with her would be wise.”

“You can broker an alliance for the queen?” she asked carefully.

“Of course.”

“So the Blood Queen sends you as an emissary and you think it’s a good idea to laugh at the Only Daughter of The Reinholdt in front of his sons and troops?”

Gwenvael flinched. She got a direct hit with that one.

He forced himself to sit back up. “All right. I’ll admit that was not my best moment. I know this. But you need to understand that for the entire long trip here I kept hearing about The Beast. The Beast, The Beast, The Beast! The scary, frightening Beast. The size of a bear with the cunning battle skills and fangs of a jungle cat. And then you walk out. And you’re … you’re …”

“Plain, boring, and fangless?”

“I was going to say dainty.”

“ ‘Dainty’? Me?”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Compared to the women I know, you’re as dainty as an air fairy.” He gestured at her body. “Look at you. Your feet are small, your hands delicate, your neck long and lithe, and there’s not a scar on you. Not that I have a problem with scars. They can be quite alluring. But it’s been a while since I’ve seen a woman who didn’t have at least a few.” He pointed at her spectacles. “And being nearly blind only makes you appear more innocent and vulnerable.”

“I am not nearly blind. And it is believed in the north that a woman who has scars other than those from her typical daily chores, does not have a male in her life who takes very good care of her.”

“And the women I know don’t need a man to take care of them.”

“That doesn’t repulse you? Women like that?”

“Hardly. But my brothers keep finding them first and then they won’t let them go. Even for a night.”

Her lips began to bow into a smile, but she managed to stop before it got out of hand. “I do have a tub you can use. I’ll have it moved in here. It might take a bit, though. It’s heavy.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll just come to your room.”

It was only a smirk, but it was lethal. “Oh, will you?”

“Don’t you trust me, my innocent Lady Dagmar?”

That cold gaze scrutinized him for a long time. “I trust no one,” she finally admitted with what Gwenvael instinctively knew to be complete honesty. Complete honesty he doubted she practiced most days.

“My room is five doors down, on the right,” she said. “I have to tend to my dogs now that you’ve frightened the life from them, so it will be empty until after tonight’s dinner.”

“Thank you, Lady Dagmar.”

She walked back across the room and pulled open the door. That thing she called a dog stood there, waiting for her. His head lowered and he bared his fangs at Gwenvael.

“Canute. Out.” She never raised her voice, and apparently she didn’t have to because the dog stopped immediately.

“That reminds me,” he said, standing up. He knew if he lay back down, he wouldn’t get up again for hours.

“And what is that?”

He took a long look at the dog before smiling at Dagmar. “I’m starving. Anything to … snack on before dinner?”

Her eyes narrowed and she made a quick motion with her hands. The dog immediately walked off. “I’ll have some cheese and bread sent up to you.”

“Cheese and bread? Don’t you have anything with a little more mea—”

“Cheese and bread, Southlander. Be happy you’re getting that. And stay away from my dogs.”

She walked out, and Gwenvael yelled after her, “Someone is not taking very good care of me!”

Chapter 7