“Well,” Crystin said, “we’ll be staying here at least the night so I hope you’ll have time for dinner and a little chat about old . . .”

Crystin’s words faded away as three male dragons in human form walked out of the Main Hall doors. Addolgar didn’t recognize them, but Caron ran up the stairs and threw herself into one of the dragons’ arms.

“Daddy!”

Crystin crossed her arms over her chest and gawked up the stairs at her mate. “What the hells are you lot doing here?”

“Oh,” Shalin said, smiling, “when I heard from Addolgar that all of you were safe and coming back to the Southlands together, I sent out messengers to retrieve your mates since I knew they were part of the troops camped not too far from here. Isn’t that fortuitous?”

“Aye,” Crystin muttered. “So very fortuitous.”

The three males glowered down the stairs at their mates and one of them demanded, “What idiocy did you idiotic lot get me lovely daughters into this time, ya daft cows?”

“Don’t even start!” Aledwen barked back, stomping up the stairs to the Main Hall, her sisters stomping right behind her. The three couples bickered all the way into the castle, but the way the Penarddun offspring didn’t seem to notice or care told Addolgar this was how things went among their parents.

Once the Penardduns had gone inside, Shalin opened her arms and Addolgar went up the stairs to hug her.

“I’m so glad you’re all right.” She pulled back. “How’s your leg?”

When the Lightning had rammed that spear into his leg, Addolgar had done his best to block what was happening from his kin. But his mother always knew. Always.

“It’s fine, Mum.”

“Did you cry like a baby when that Lightning speared you?”

Addolgar scowled at his father. “No. I did not.”

“But you weren’t paying attention, were you, boy?” When Addolgar didn’t reply, Ailean threw up his hands. “How many times must I remind you lot to pay attention? Do you think I’ve been training you since hatching just for my bloody health?”

Shalin pulled away from Addolgar and placed her small hands on Ailean’s arm. “My love, why don’t you go check on our guests? I’m sure Crystin would just love to relive old memories.”

“Fine. You talk to the boy then.”

Once his father had gone back inside, Addolgar said, “I’m leaving.”

But he hadn’t even managed to turn all the way around so he could walk down the stairs before his mother grabbed him by the hair and held on tight.

“Mum!”

“You’re not going anywhere. You and your brothers know how your father is. You know why he does what he does. So why must we go through this over and over again?”

“But—”

“He loves you, Addolgar. He loves all of you. In his own . . . Ailean-like way. He would do anything for you. Never forget that. So do not be a prat and simply remember that I love you more than the suns.”

Knowing there was no point in arguing with the female he loved so much, Addolgar just sighed out, “Thanks, Mum.”

She released his hair, turned him around again so he faced her, and patted his cheek. “You’re welcome, dear.”

Braith, feeling uncomfortable just standing there behind Addolgar while he bickered with his parents, walked off, leaving them to it.

She wandered into one of the horse stalls. At first, she thought maybe these were horses for eating, but then she saw all the saddles and realized that these were horses for riding. Braith walked up to a stall with a large black stallion, resting her arms on the wood gate. It was so strange, wasn’t it? Dragons riding horses to get around even though dragons had wings. But the Cadwaladrs were . . . unique.

“Sorry about that.”

Braith looked over her shoulder at Ghleanna. “About what?”

“My brother and father.”

She shrugged and focused on the horse in front of her. “Doesn’t bother me. Besides . . . my father’s head just got tossed off Devenallt Mountain—it’s not like I have any room to judge how other families get along.”

Ghleanna winced. “Sorry about that, too.”

“It could have been my head.” Braith let out a breath. “Ghleanna . . . ?”

“Mmmhm?”

“I’m worried.”

“About?”

Braith let out another breath and admitted to Addolgar’s sister, “Olgeirsson did not take Lady Katarina.”

“Oh, I know.” She waved all that away. “Addolgar already told me.”

“Wait. You know?”

“Of course I know. My brothers hide nothing from me when it comes to our enemies.”

“And it doesn’t bother you that we may be starting a war based on a lie?”

“What’s the lie? Olgeir may have not taken Katarina, but he took Davon. She’s just as important.”

“I know she is, but . . .”

“But . . . what?”

“Well”—Braith frowned, the realization suddenly hitting her—“if Davon didn’t matter . . . why does Katarina? Because of her father?”

“Doubtful. It probably has more to do with the fact I reminded Addiena that with a war she wouldn’t have to get approval from the Elders for a gods-damn thing.”

Braith gawked at the She-dragon. “What in all the holy hells would make you tell her that for?”