“Do you think that’s why I’m worried about you going? It’s not. While I’m sure my mother will be more than happy to help your sister, she’ll have no use for you, Izzy. And those she doesn’t have use for—”

Izzy took her mother’s hand, held it to her chest. “Leave her to me. I promise to be careful. Very careful.”

“And what about traveling through the Desert Lands? It’s a vast region, Izzy.”

“I have maps and—”

“No worries,” Izzy heard from another stall, and she dropped her mother’s hand and spun around to see Éibhear standing by the horse he’d rode into Garbhán Isle just a few days before. “Oh. Sorry to startle you. Just cleaning out the muck from this one’s hooves.” He patted the horse’s rump. “Isn’t that right, girl?”

Taking the horse’s reins, he led her out of the stall. “As I was saying, Aidan lived quite a few years in the Desert Lands with an uncle. So he’ll be leading us once we cross Southland borders.”

“Oh.” Talaith looked back and forth between Izzy and Éibhear. “I didn’t know you’d be going with Izzy on this trip.”

“Mum wants us to handle the Iron dragoness if she turns out to be a true problem. It’s not the first time the Mì-runach have taken on this type of excursion. Besides, it’ll be nice to see where you come from, Talaith.”

“Right.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, but she didn’t question Éibhear, which seemed strange since one of Briec’s biggest complaints about his mate was that she asked too many damn questions.

“Well,” Talaith said, going on her toes as Éibhear came down a bit so she could kiss his cheek. “Both of you be careful. And I hope you’ll be back in time for the harvest festival.” She kissed Izzy’s cheek. “Good luck, luv.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

Talaith stepped back, looked both over again, then said, “Yeah, well . . all right then.” And off she went, cutting around Éibhear and his horse to head out the door.

Once her mother was gone, Izzy faced Éibhear and stared at him.

He smiled. “Well, you ready then?”

Aidan yawned and wished, again, that he was back in bed where he belonged. Honestly, the things he was sometimes forced to do for friends . . . which was probably why he didn’t have a lot of them.

He glanced over at Uther, watched the dragon in human form stick his nose against his horse’s neck.

“You can’t eat it, Uther.”

“I know.”

“Then stop smelling it.”

“It’s not my fault he smells yummy.”

“We’ll find you something to eat once we get on the road.”

“Why are we doing this again?” Caswyn asked. Instead of sniffing his horse, he merely laid his crossed arms over its back and his head on his crossed arms. A few times Aidan was sure he’d heard snoring. Then again, Caswyn was one of the few dragons he knew who could sleep while standing up . . . and with his eyes open. Aye. It was off-putting.

“Because Éibhear’s a desperate idiot,” Aidan replied to his comrade’s question.

“That’s what I thought.”

The gorgeous Lady Talaith walked out of the stables. And, gods, she was gorgeous. If her mate wasn’t a clearly unstable monarch whose brothers were even more unstable, Aidan would at least display his wingspan. He’d always found there was something about gold dragons in the early-morning suns with their wings unfurled that could entice any female. But he’d heard enough from Éibhear and his own kin—when he was still forced to talk to them—about the insanity of the Gwalchmai fab Gwyar and Cadwaladr bloodlines to know that there were some females simply not worth the risk.

Although if there was one who might possibly be risk-worthy. . .

As she walked by them, Aidan saw a mother’s concern on that beautiful face and felt the need to assure her. “We’ll take very good care of your daughter, my Lady Talaith.”

She stopped, looked at each one of the Mì-runach, smirked, and said to Aidan, “When my daughter is being a general, her legion’s well-being is of utmost concern to her. However, when she’s doing things without her legion, she’ll take risks that most would consider highly dangerous. Hence the name, Izzy the Dangerous, that she’d received long before I’d met her. So I say this as someone who is sure that all of you have someone who cares for you the way I care for my daughter—whatever you do, don’t let her get you killed. Because something does tell me . . . she’s really going to try with you lot. She’s going to try very hard.”

They watched the royal walk off.

“What was that about?” Aidan asked his comrades. His stupid comrades.

“Don’t know,” Uther sighed. “But I do like that dagger she’s got holstered to her leg.”

“Aye,” Caswyn agreed. “Very sexy. I think it’s her thighs.”

“Could anyone,” Aidan asked, “be as stupid as you two?”

“Before you get upset—” Éibhear began, but Izzy cut him off with a slight wave of her hand.

“No, no. I’m not upset.”

Éibhear forced himself not to shield his head with his hands. He just knew she was going to throw something at his head. “You’re not?”