How to Drive a Dragon Crazy
“What would possess her?”
“She seemed to think it wasn’t as bad as what Auntie Dagmar said. Mum didn’t agree. They’ve been at it ever since. Izzy’s been trying to calm everyone down.... It’s not working.”
“Should I go and help?”
“I wouldn’t.” She reached over and picked up a small tray. “One of the servants brought me cheese and bread. Here. Have some. I find it makes the viewing even better.”
“I agree.” He chose a slice of cheese and a slice of bread to put it on. “Now all this drama aside, how are you doing?”
Rhi sighed and turned her head to look at him, resting her temple against the wood bar. “Not as well as I’d like, Uncle Ragnar. I think . . . it’s time.”
“I think you’re right.”
“They’ll never agree.”
“But your sister’s here now. Maybe she can help.”
“Perhaps.” Violet eyes lowered. “But I’m afraid.”
“I know, Rhi.”
“At some point . . . I much fear I’m going to end up killing someone.”
Yes, Ragnar thought. You probably will.
While Izzy struggled to calm down her mother and Keita, Éibhear turned around and escorted Frederik outside to the stairs. He crouched in front of the boy.
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“It’s all right,” the boy said. “I knew they were planning this. At least I guessed it. I just feel bad for Aunt Dagmar.”
“Don’t. She’s got a lot on her mind. I doubt any of this has to do with you at all. But I do need you to check on something for me. My three friends, I haven’t seen them since last night. Can you go into town and find them for me?”
He nodded and Éibhear gave him a leather bag with some gold coins.
“What’s this for?”
“Just in case. Trust me. Ask for Aidan. He usually talks for all of them.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you.”
Éibhear watched the boy walk down the stairs. Nothing worse than finding out your own kin don’t want you. He didn’t blame Dagmar as much as those ridiculous brothers and nephews of hers.
Standing tall, Éibhear headed back into the Great Hall, meeting Izzy at the doorway.
“Can’t stand it anymore?” he asked.
“They’re not letting me get a word in. I’m going to see if I can find Brannie.”
“Then dress shopping? So you can woo Keita’s friend?”
Her lip curled, eyes narrowing. He was glad to see her look of disgust. He didn’t want to think about her even considering involving herself in whatever Keita was up to.
Without another word, she walked out, and Briec and Fearghus walked in. They stood on either side of Éibhear.
“What are they arguing about now?” Briec asked.
And Éibhear could have just said, “Oh . . . nothing to worry about.” He could have.
He didn’t.
“Keita wants to whore out your eldest daughter.”
Confused, Briec frowned, but Keita heard Éibhear and spun around, stomping her tiny, bare foot.
“Éibhear! Stop saying that! I’m not trying to whore her out!”
“Then what the hells are you trying to do?” Briec demanded, knowing their sister well enough to suspect that if she was bothering to defend herself, there was a chance she was doing exactly what she was trying to say that she wasn’t doing.
And now that Briec had taken over arguing with Keita, Talaith stepped out. She stopped by Éibhear’s side. “Where did Izzy go?”
“She said to find Brannie.”
“All right. Thanks.”
She started to walk off, but Éibhear took a quick step back, leaning down to get a good look at her face. “Everything all right, Talaith? This thing with Keita—”
Talaith quickly dismissed that with a wave and an eye roll. “Don’t worry,” she said, reaching up and patting his shoulder. “I’m fine.” She pulled her hand away, then reached up and patted his shoulder again. Then his entire arm. “Gods, Éibhear.”
“What?” he asked, looking down at his arm.
But she didn’t answer, just walked off in search of her daughter.
Izzy heard her name called and stopped, turning. Her mother ran up to her.
“Do you have some time to talk?” Talaith asked.
“About Keita? Really?”
“Not Keita. I’m letting your father deal with that.” She stepped closer, glanced around, and lowered her voice. “It’s about Rhi.”
“My house? I’ll make us some tea.”
Her mother nodded. “Sounds perfect.”
Arm in arm, mother and daughter walked to Izzy’s house. And although they chatted amiably, Izzy knew her mother well enough to know that something was bothering her. Something that had nothing to do with Keita’s latest outrageous political maneuver.
Once at the house, Izzy sat her mother down at the table and pulled out some cake that she’d bought for the dinner she’d had with Celyn and Brannie the evening before. She cut several pieces and put them on a plate before her mother. Then she went about making the tea.
By the time Izzy poured the tea and sat down at the table cattycorner from her mother, it was easy to see how distressed she was. Taking her mother’s hands in her own, Izzy said, “Mum . . . what is it?”