“I don’t care what my mother says or your mother or the mother of all the gods. We do what we want, Izzy. And if that means f**king like bunnies, then that is exactly what we’ll do.”
“Can we discuss this later?” She snatched her hand back. “Much later?”
Izzy walked out, although he could tell she’d rather be running. Running all the way back to her legions and more killing. Anything rather than face the situation that was right in front of her. Not that he blamed her, but still. She had to know that no matter what happened between them the family wouldn’t take this well. She just needed to deal with it.
Back safely in the grove not more than a league from Garbhán Isle, Rhi looked up at her grandmother, who would escort Rhi back to the house now that they were done with their task. But still, something bothered Rhi. . . .
“Why did you say that to Izzy and Uncle Éibhear?”
“I had to, it’s nothing to worry about.”
“But I don’t understand, Gram. I thought you didn’t mind them being together.”
“Oh . . . my darling girl. When you’re a mother you’ll understand this better, but if you think for a minute that my blessing their union and telling them that it should have happened years ago would bond those two together for a lifetime, you are a very optimistic girl. Instead, it would only make them go out of their way to do the exact opposite. It’s what children do to their parents.”
“I don’t.” She scrunched up her nose. “But Talwyn and Talan do.”
“Exactly. No, no. This was ugly but necessary. Either I forbid the relationship now or I risk another three or four decades of those two fighting what everyone else can so clearly see.”
“You practically called Izzy a whore, though.”
“There’s no practically there, but I had to make it convincing. But don’t worry. Once I know that idiot and my granddaughter have stopped all this foolishness, I’ll apologize to her.”
“What about Uncle Éibhear?”
“He’s male, darling. It’s best to keep things simple and unadorned for the males. You’ll learn that, too, as you get older. Now”—she leaned in a bit—“would you like to go flying with Grandmum before we take you home, so you can watch her toss cows around for no other reason than her own amusement?”
“Sounds unnecessarily cruel.”
“Exactly!” Rhiannon used her tail to place her granddaughter on her back. “See? Already you’re learning what it means to be part of this family.”
Chapter 30
“Are you not hungry, Princess? Is the food not to your liking?”
Izzy looked up from the food she’d been toying with for the last forty minutes. As Éibhear had feared, Izzy seemed to be taking his mother’s words hard. Then again, not really surprising. Not only did Izzy adore his mother, she respected her. So what Rhiannon had said bothered Izzy more than if it had come from one of the Cadwaladr aunts who’d mostly ignored her over the years.
“No,” she said. “Everything’s fine.”
“Then what troubles you?”
Izzy glanced at the other three dragons who’d come to dinner in the king’s privy chamber: Lord Amsi, a duke from the outer regions of the Desert Lands; Bani, the king’s personal healer and friend; and Kafele, the king’s head magi.
“Nothing,” Izzy finally said.
“Now, now, Princess Iseabail. I want you to feel you can be honest with me. And these”—he gestured to the three other dragons—“are my closest confidants. Anything you say to me, you can say to them with no fear that it will spread beyond my chamber.”
“I understand, but—”
“No, Princess. Feel free to express yourself here. You are among friends.”
An eyebrow peaked. “Really?”
Uh-oh. “Izzy—” Éibhear warned.
“Fine,” Izzy went on, ignoring him. “You want me to express myself? Then that’s what I’ll do.”
“Izzy—”
“It’s all right, Prince Éibhear. I’m eager to hear Iseabail’s thoughts.”
At that point, all Éibhear could do was roll his eyes and sit back in his chair.
“Go on, Iseabail,” Heru said congenially. “Tell me your—”
“What the battle-fuck do you want with us?”
The duke sat up straight, his glower dark and dangerous. “Perhaps you forget your place, Southland human.”
“Keep your mouth shut,” Izzy warned, voice low. “Or I’ll split your spine.
“Now”—Izzy focused back on Heru—“I’m in no mood to f**k around about this anymore. You came, you got me . . . why? And don’t give me any centaur shit about feeling benevolent, or just in a mood, or gods-damn premonitions. All I care about at this point is what you want from me.”
Although Heru looked amused, the duke was definitely not and he seemed unable to keep out of all this.
“Look, human,” the duke sneered, “you may think you’re safe with your barbarian Mì-runach sitting at this table, but I can assure you—”
“I don’t need Éibhear’s help to kill you. I’ve killed dragons greater and stronger than you can even begin to dream of being. So hold your tongue or I’ll make it part of my wall decoration, along with the horns of Olgeir the Wastrel and the spine of Overlord Thracius!”