Kachka cringed at the ridiculous moniker these Southlanders insisted on using. She’d gotten tired of correcting them, so she let out a breath and snapped, “What?”
“Margo”—the leader of the kitchen staff—“was wondering if you could perhaps, if you’re not too busy, round up some meat for us? Some of the Cadwaladrs will be attending dinner tonight and the butchers don’t have enough to feed them all. You know what hearty eaters dragons are. So she was just—”
As the sheep went on—begging—and Kachka stared her in the face, she raised her bow, an arrow already nocked and ready, and shot the first thing she saw from the corner of her eye. The bison cried out once before dropping to its knees and bleeding out from the wound on its neck.
“Anything else?” Kachka asked.
The woman was pale now, her head shaking in answer.
Disgusted—hunting was not a challenge for a Daughter of the Steppes; it was more like breathing—Kachka turned away and started walking.
“Kachka?” She stopped and looked over her shoulder to see her sister.
“Fuck,” Kachka muttered as her sister walked over to her.
“You can’t be nice?” Elina asked in their native tongue.
Kachka’s sister wore a bright purple eye patch where her left eye should be. It had been the last thing their mother had taken from Elina. Over time, she’d grown accustomed to the loss, her skills at using her bow improving day after day. But the eye patches . . . this ridiculous purple one could have only come from that idiotic She-dragon, Keita. Her obsession with what Elina wore bordered on the disturbing. Wasn’t it bad enough the Shestakova sisters had already become decadent and lazy? Must they also become pathetic as well?
“I was nice,” Kachka replied, but when Elina pursed her lips, Kachka threw up her hands. “What more do you want from me, sister?”
“How about not terrifying the staff?”
“You mean the sheep?”
“And stop calling them that! You know they hate it!”
Gaius Lucius Domitus, Iron dragon and the one-eyed Rebel King from the west, rolled that one eye and continued out of the back halls of the Senate and toward the royal palace. He had important plans to make and he didn’t have time for yet another discussion about his poor kingly skills.
“I think you’re a fool to do this.”
“Thank you, Auntie. I appreciate your confidence.”
“Don’t get that tone with me.”
“What tone?”
L?titia Clydia Domitus grabbed Gaius’s arm and yanked him around. She was a small She-dragon and ridiculously tiny in her human form, but there was a power to her. There had to be in order for her to have survived as long as she had. There were few who had survived Overlord Thracius’s reign while openly loathing him, but L?titia had managed. Somehow.
“First off—” she began.
“Gods,” Gaius groaned. “There’s a first off.”
“—you shouldn’t be walking around these streets alone. You’re the king now. That makes you a clear target. Second, you’re king now. You can’t run off on stupid errands every time you get a bug up your ass. You have an empire to rule.”
“An empire that will no longer exist if I don’t get control of my cousins and, more importantly, squash the rise of Chramnesind cults.”
“I don’t disagree with you, but I don’t know why you need to go yourself. You have dragons and men at your disposal. Why do you not use them?”
“Why? Because I trust no one. Except my sister.” When his aunt groaned and rolled her eyes at the mention of Agrippina, Gaius gently pulled his arm out of her grasp and walked away.
“Wait! I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No. I didn’t. I love your sister—” Gaius snorted at that, and L?titia gripped his arm again and yanked him around to face her with even more strength than he’d given her credit for. “Do not, boy, question my loyalty to you or your sister. Ever. You two are the only thing left of the one sibling I adored, and that means something. But your sister went through hell. Absolute hell. And she hasn’t recovered from it, no matter how much both of you want to pretend that she has. So leaving the throne in her claws while you go off to be the hero king seems a . . . risky decision at best.”
“Well then . . . I guess . . .” Gaius glanced off, pretended to think a minute. “You’ll just have to give her your guidance while I’m gone.”
From the corner of his one eye, he saw his aunt desperately try to hide a smile. It wasn’t an evil smile. She, unlike most of his kin, was not evil. But, for the first time, she felt she’d be allowed to use her knowledge and skills directly rather than behind the scenes, which was usually where one could find her. Her machinations had been legendary, but they were often attributed to one of her other siblings. Of course, it was her willingness not to be openly involved that had kept her alive this long.
“Your sister,” L?titia finally said, “won’t like that.”