“I am nice. I haven’t killed her yet, have I? And the gods know that I’ve been tempted.”
The boy laughed again until he saw something behind his mother.
Enjoying his delightful stew, Gaius glanced toward the front of the hall to find out what the boy was looking at and Gaius’s mouth dropped open for a moment.
“Oh . . . Mum.”
Annwyl barely glanced back at a nearly destroyed Zoya Kolesova. Even Gaius, who had been watching gladiator games since before he could fly, still had to stop eating. Yes. It was that bad.
“She talked about you like cattle,” Annwyl said again. “I didn’t like it.”
“But this . . . this wasn’t necessary.”
“She started it. She challenged me.”
Poor Zoya was being helped by Kachka and her sister. She had one arm around each sister and her face was bloody, bruised, and battered. The other Riders followed behind them, not even bothering to assist.
“She will not let your witches help her,” Kachka explained as they stopped in front of the queen.
“Let her die then.”
“Mum!”
“What?”
“You’re better than this,” her son argued.
“She is not,” Kachka pointed out.
“Truly. She is not,” Elina confirmed
They were so direct, Gaius couldn’t help but laugh, and that’s when the queen’s gaze suddenly locked on him, those mad green eyes staring at him through all that hair.
“Gaius. There you are. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Shocked, Gaius looked around the hall, expecting to see someone else—anyone else—who might be named Gaius.
When he found no one, he looked back at the queen and pointed at his chest with his spoon. “Are you . . . are you talking to me?”
“Yes, you!” she snapped. “Who else would I be . . . ? What other Gaius is . . . ? What is wrong with everyone?”
That’s when the queen spotted Dagmar Reinholdt as she suddenly floated into the room with Lady Talaith and Princess Morfyd. Dagmar had always looked so out of place here at Garbhán Isle. An elegant Northland female among the brawny Southlanders. Quiet. Intelligent. And dangerously plotting. She always seemed to belong somewhere less . . . full of yelling.
Dagmar Reinholdt placed her small hand against her chest. “Me? What have I done, my queen?”
The queen snarled and took a step, but her son quickly pulled her back. “Hello, Auntie Dagmar.”
The Battle Lord went up on her toes and kissed her nephew-by-mating on the cheek. “Talan. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. We brought visitors back with us.” He gestured toward Gaius with a tilt of his head.
“King Gaius.” She moved past the others and over to Gaius’s side. He stood, took her outstretched hand, and kissed the back of it.
“My Lady Dagmar. Always good to see you again.”
“And you, of course. Although I have to say I am a bit surprised you’re here.”
“Had a spot of trouble. Nothing to worry about.”
A snort from Kachka had Gaius glancing over, an eyebrow raised. “Something you’d like to say, Lady Kachka?”
Now Dagmar laughed, and Kachka, snarling a little, pulled away from poor Zoya, her sister almost crumbling under the weight of the much bigger woman.
“Cousin!” Tatyana exclaimed, quickly moving in to help Elina before she was lost under the massiveness of Zoya.
“Something you want to say to me, tiny Northlander, with tiny head I can crush between hands?”
Dagmar, never one to back away from much of anything, stepped directly into Kachka’s space, quiet demeanor still in place.
“I’d like to see you try, Outerplains slut.”
“Fucking your nephew once does not make me slut. It makes your nephew very lucky.”
They had their hands around each other’s throats by the time Gaius and Lady Talaith reached them. Talaith handled Dagmar, yanking her back one way, while Gaius yanked Kachka the other.
“Stay away from my nephew!” Dagmar yelled as Talaith dragged her from the hall.
“I already fucked him, Northlander! I promise I am done with him!”
Dagmar screeched and managed to pull herself out of Talaith’s grasp, but the former assassin—a Southlander secret Gaius had known about for years—lifted her up and carried her out the front doors.
“Dagmar Reinholdt’s nephew?” he softly asked Kachka. “A little young for you, isn’t he?”
“He had to learn from someone. And a boy that pretty to have me . . . ? It was honor for him.”
Before Gaius could respond to that, Annwyl took hold of Gaius’s forearm. It surprised him. He didn’t think Annwyl had ever touched him before. He wasn’t sure why she was touching him now. He felt the need to duck . . . or simply prepare for death.
Thankfully, however, none of that was necessary. The queen simply said, “Come on. Let’s talk.”
Gaius nodded, ready to follow.
“Wait,” a still bleeding Zoya called out.