Before Aidan could move, Brannie had slammed Uther’s head into the table, then moved on to Caswyn. She grabbed him by the throat and lifted him out of his chair, slamming his back against the wall. The full tables beside them cleared out as the humans fled.

She pinned Caswyn’s drunk ass to the wall with one hand.

“I should have killed you when we were still on that mountain!”

“Bran—” Aidan began but she silenced him with one raised finger on her free hand. And for once, he didn’t think his intervention would help any.

“Do not abuse them so, Branwen the Awful,” Kachka said with a small smile. “It was your fault for trusting anything to weak males who cannot hold their watery ale.”

“Oy,” Uther drunkenly cut in. “We’ve won contests.”

“Contests with other weak males,” Kachka replied. “I am unimpressed.” She looked back at Branwen. “Being angry at them is like being angry at stubborn cow. Why bother? It will not move faster.”

“And that is why you need us,” Zoya said, her grin wide. “We will come with you and help you die with honor! Will that not be fun?”

“No,” Brannie said. “That will not be fun. I don’t plan to die. I plan to live a nice, long happy life destroying others!”

“Caswyn’s turning blue,” Aidan felt the need to interject.

“Good!”

Rolling his eyes, Aidan finally ordered, “Let him go.”

“No.”

“Branwen . . . let him go.”

She did. Right after she threw him into the corner, making sure his head slammed against the wall before he hit the floor.

Brannie faced him. “Happy?”

Laughing, Kachka motioned to the empty chairs. “Come. Sit. Let us discuss our plan.”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Keita stated. “I can’t go to the Eastlands with a bunch of burly Riders coming along with us.”

Zoya looked Keita up and down before asking, “Who are you, tiny female?”

Aghast, Keita barked, “I am Princess Keita of the House of—”

Spitting on the floor, Zoya cut in, “Another decadent royal. Who cares?”

“Everyone. Everyone cares. Because I’m me. I’m Keita!”

Kachka leaned toward the other Riders. “She is one that gives my sister useless eye patch in many colors.”

“Those are fashion statements. So your sister doesn’t look like a bloody freak at family get-togethers. I’m trying to help her.”

“Yes, yes. Very helpful,” Kachka said with a dismissive wave. “Now, Branwen and Aidan, you two sit down. Let us talk about our plans.”

“Our plans?” Keita slammed her hands on the table. “They are my plans, peasant.”

“Your plans? To what? Give Empress festive gown for when the rest of us kill her?”