“You’re right. I am a horrid mother. But now that your aunt Keita is back, you can feel free to head off to the Northlands with her and forget you ever knew me.”

“What? You don’t think I will?”

“I’m hoping you will.”

“Fine! That’s what I’ll do!”

“Well,” Dagmar suddenly bellowed back, “there’s the door! Don’t let it hit you in your snobby ass!”

Lifting her skirts, Arlais stormed out the double doors. Grabbing her stack of papers, Dagmar stormed from the Main Hall.

“I am so glad to be home!” Gwenvael announced to his giggling daughters.

A few seconds later, Var walked into the Main Hall from the back hallway. But as soon as he saw his father, he stopped, sighed, and stared.

Gwenvael threw his arms wide, a daughter still attached to each one, and cheered, “Son!”

Cringing, Var turned around and followed after his mother.

Gwenvael looked down at his grinning daughters. “So glad.”

* * *

Talaith was looking at a bolt of cloth for new dresses for her daughters. Dagmar was planning a party and she knew both her girls would want to dance and look beautiful.

Although the thought that Dagmar was planning a party shocked Talaith. That Northlander was usually the last one to enjoy a party. But then she’d found out the Eastlander royals were still in town and it suddenly made sense. Dagmar was nothing if not a politician.

“You weren’t even around to greet me, little witch!” Talaith heard from behind her.

She turned and gazed up into the violet eyes of the dragon she would love until she was called home to her ancestors. And with complete love and adoration she barked back, “When did I become the royal greeter of Garbhán Isle?”

“You’re my mate, woman! You should have been waiting for me with bated breath.”

“I have more important things to do than tend to your needs.”

“Such as?”

“Anything is more important than your needs!”

“Peasant!”

“Arrogant bastard!”

He smiled at her. “I’m glad I’m home.”

Talaith ran into his arms.

“I’m glad you’re home, too,” she whispered against his neck.

* * *

Rhiannon was sitting on her throne, bored out of her mind because she was being forced—literally forced—to be a gods-damn royal when her Mì-runach suddenly swarmed around her.

“Oooooh!” she giggled. “Activity!”

She watched royal dragons rush out of the chamber or attempt to hide in small caverns. Everyone seemed to be panicking and she had to admit, she was enjoying it all immensely.

Then Bercelak stomped into the chamber. His scales were damaged and his glower was so bad that it would terrorize the bravest dragon.

He came right to her, and even her Mì-runach moved out of the way once they realized it was Bercelak the Great and not some assassin.