At least that’s what Aidan thought they were going to do. So he was a little surprised when Keita took a turn down a street that moved them away from the docks and farther into town.

After nearly half an hour, she walked up stairs that led to a front door. She knocked and a servant answered.

Keita merely nodded her head and the servant opened the door fully, allowing Keita, Brannie, and Aidan inside. She had them wait in the hallway. He noticed marble floors, a gorgeous staircase leading to other floors, and expensive furniture.

Someone very wealthy lived here.

The servant returned and with another silent nod, she led them down the hallway to another doorway that opened onto stairs leading deep into the bowels of the building.

After his experience in the fort tunnels, Aidan would have been more than happy to wait somewhere near a speedy exit for Keita to finish her business, but that was never given as an option.

Once downstairs, they were taken through a dark tunnel until they reached a doorway. With a sweep of her hand, the servant gestured to the elaborate knob.

Keita pulled a small scarf from her cleavage and wrapped it around her hand. Then she opened the door.

“Is that doorknob poisoned?” Brannie asked, but the glare she got from her cousin instantly silenced her.

Males sat around a large room filled with books and parchment, and as soon as Keita stepped inside, they all got to their feet.

Keita moved quickly, cutting through all the men to throw herself into the arms of an elf.

“We just heard,” the elf told her. “I’m so sorry, Keita.”

She nodded against the elf’s neck before pulling back. “Gorlas, this is my cousin, Branwen the Awful and Aidan the Divine.”

The elf smiled. “Yes. I know Aidan the Divine.”

Brannie and Keita stared at him, but Aidan could only shrug. “I’m sorry, but—”

“You don’t know me, but we attempted to recruit you a few decades back. You were being sent to the Mì-runach, but we gave you another option.”

Now Aidan smirked. “Oh. Yes. That.”

“You had a chance to become a Protector of the Throne,” Brannie asked, “but you chose to become Mì-runach? What for?”

“The queen was very clear—”

“Try again.”

He gave a small shrug. “I knew it would piss off my father.”

Brannie’s eyes crossed. “I will never understand males.”

* * *

Only Gorlas the elf introduced himself and, before Brannie had a chance to ask about anyone else, the others left. Exiting silently and not through the door they’d come through.

Fascinated—she walked around the room trying to find more exits—Brannie barely listened to the conversation going on around her.

An important conversation to be sure, but it wasn’t like Brannie had a word to say about any of it. She was merely Keita’s protection. “Get her to the Eastlands” were her only orders now that they were sure Ren was dead.

“The Dowager, a lovely sea vessel, will take you to the Empress Ports,” Gorlas explained to Keita. “From there you can get transport to the palaces.” Gorlas leaned his backside against a large table, arms folded in front of his chest. “You do know she won’t be glad to see you without her son?”

“I know,” Keita replied. “But by the time I get there, I’ll be in full performance mode. Never fear.”

“Good. She’ll be looking for anything. Anything that will tell her the truth. Her powers, Keita—”

“I know. They rival my mother’s.”

“They may do more than that. The Empress comes from a long line of powerful She-dragons. She won’t be easy to distract. Even for you.”

“Understood.”

“What do you plan to use?” the elf asked.

It was such an oddly phrased question that Brannie finally looked away from the wall where she was sure there must be some kind of hidden doorway.

“I can’t bring anything with me. She’ll find it. I’ll have to use something local.”

“Something she won’t recognize?” Gorlas shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

“It’d better be a good one. If you go down”—he motioned to Brannie—“so does your cousin.”

Now they were all staring at her.

Brannie took a step back. “I don’t plan to go down that easy,” she retorted. “So you can all stop looking at me like I’m already dead.”

Gorlas gave a small smile and asked Keita about Branwen, “Is she very much like her mother?”

“Mirror images, if you ask me.”

“You know my mother?” Brannie asked.

“Yes. She once tried to take my head.”

“Did you deserve it?”

“A little.” He walked to a small wood box, opened it, and handed Keita several items. A good-sized purse that rattled with much coin, a rolled parchment that Brannie would guess had a map drawn on it, and a small vial with something liquid and red inside.

“Why are you giving me this?” Keita asked, holding up the vial.

“You know why,” Gorlas said plainly.

Keita looked down, but eventually nodded. In silence, she walked to a corner, her back to them, and it looked as if she was pulling up her skirts.

Brannie blinked and looked at Aidan, who returned her gaze with one of his own. Eyes wide.

Is she really putting that up her . . . yes. Yes, she is. Smoothing down her skirts, Keita turned back around. “Is that to kill yourself?” Brannie asked, stopping everyone in the room.

“Uh . . .”

“If it can do that—kill you, I mean—are you sure you should put it inside your pussy?”

Cringing, lips pressed together tight so he didn’t laugh, Aidan began to study the ceiling while Gorlas merely stared at her, his eyes wide. Keita glared.

“Can we discuss this somewhere else, cousin?”

“Because you are suddenly shy?”

Keita faced Gorlas again.

“It’s a valid question,” Brannie insisted, but Keita merely raised her hand to shut her up. Not as if that had ever worked on her before unless they were in the midst of an ambush.

“Thank you, Gorlas,” Keita said to the elf.

“Take care of yourself, my dearest Keita,” he said, hugging her tight.

“Are you returning to Fenella right away?”

He pulled back, his expression surprised. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Fenella is practically abandoned. The Zealots . . . they attacked the universities, the guilds . . . nothing and no one are safe. Until this war is over . . .”

Keita nodded. “It will be,” she promised. “Very soon.”

Chapter Sixteen

“You don’t really think I’m going to let you kill yourself, do you?” Brannie asked her cousin.

“You’ll do what I tell you to do,” Keita snapped back, walking quickly through the streets. “But just so we’re clear, destroying the perfection that is me is not my first choice.”

“If I have any say—”

“You don’t, cousin.”

“Keita—”

The She-dragon stopped so quickly, both Brannie and Aidan almost rammed right into her. She pointed a small but angry-looking finger in their faces.

“You will do as I tell you, Branwen.”

Brannie grabbed Keita’s finger and twisted it down until she yelped.

“Vile beast!”

“This isn’t about who’s in charge, cousin,” Brannie calmly explained. “Because whether you’re a royal and I am a grunt, we are—in the end—both Cadwaladrs. And I’m not about to let you do something that will bring shame upon our kin. So let’s just get over to the Eastlands, kill whoever needs to be killed, and then at least attempt to get back home before they kill us all.”

Holding her wounded finger against her chest, Keita glowered at Brannie. But it was obvious she had nothing to say back to her. What was there to add? Brannie had the best argument-ender . . . Cadwaladr logic.