And she did truly adore them. That didn’t mean, however, she felt comfortable waking up with the youngest of the Five sitting on her bed, silently gazing at her.

“Thora?” Dagmar raised herself up on her elbow, quickly noticing her very brave, very large dogs were huddled in a corner of the room, watching but not really helping. They hadn’t even let out a little bark so that Dagmar would know she was no longer alone. “Is everything all right?”

Her youngest nodded that beautiful, golden head. Eyes bright gold like her daddy’s. Gwenvael’s Five were mirror images of him, the eldest of the Five now fourteen and this little one just turning eight.

“Do you need something?” Dagmar tried again.

Thora had one of the puppies from the kennel stretched out in front of her. She played with the puppy, handling it with care. Something Dagmar was very glad to see about her youngest child, who rarely spoke.

“I don’t need anything, Mummy. I just have to keep you busy for a little while.”

Sighing, Dagmar fell back on the bed. “What are your sisters up to now?”

“Nothing. We just don’t want you facing her. We know how you are. And she’s in a . . . mood.”

Dagmar studied her daughter before asking, “You don’t want me facing who?”

Gold eyes lifted to meet Dagmar’s and Thora said softly, “Auntie Brigida.” She chewed her lip for a bit before adding, “She’s here to see Arlais.”

* * *

Arlais walked into the kitchens, pausing as soon as she stepped inside. She glanced back at the armed female guard that followed her around. Her mother said she’d put this female on Arlais to protect her from being kidnapped. But Arlais knew better. Her mother just didn’t like her “sneaking around.”

That’s what her mother had called it! “Sneaking around.” Like Arlais was a barn cat!

Arlais didn’t sneak anywhere. She walked. With purpose. Anywhere she bloody wanted to go.

Gods! She couldn’t wait for her father to get back so he could keep the great Dagmar Reinholdt busy. Arlais was tired of being that woman’s focus. Amazing since Dagmar had an entire kingdom to deal with, but somehow . . .

“Let my dog outside and then wait in the hall for me,” she ordered, but the guard simply stared at her. Petting the wonderful, furry beast pressed against her side that she’d raised from a pup, she added the warning, “Don’t make me unhinge my jaw.”

Glaring, the guard snarled, “Don’t try and run.”

Arlais smiled. “Wouldn’t dream.”

Once her nosy protection was gone with her pet, Arlais walked over to the main cook and took the bowl of fruit she offered her.

“Here to see me?” she asked the robed figure in a shadowed corner. “I’m honored.”