It was . . . ridiculous. But, like the servants, Var had gotten used to it.

“What’s going on?” Frederick asked, coming from the back halls behind Var.

Var opened his mouth to explain but all he could do was roll his eyes and sigh. “I’ll fill you in later. Is Uncle Bram up?”

“I think the question is whether Bram got any sleep. Rhiannon sent for him. He’s been at Devenallt Mountain since last night. Final plans being locked in, I guess.”

“What do they expect from a peacemaker?”

Bram the Merciful was known for his truce-making skills as far north as the Ice Lands and as far south as the deserts. He’d even negotiated the original plans for the Empress’s favorite son to travel from the Eastlands to Devenallt Mountain, where he’d met and befriended a very young Keita.

Var adored his great-uncle, could spend hours talking to him about philosophy and reason and knowledge. But he held no delusions about the dragon. His mate, Ghleanna, handled the battles and the wars that destroyed many a nation and Bram handled the clean-up and the eventual truces when the destroyed nations begged for mercy. Made sense because that was what he loved to do.

What didn’t Bram the Merciful love doing? Dealing with Var’s grandfather and grandmother, if he could help it. Bercelak the Great seemed to take great pleasure in tormenting his brother-by-mating.

“Just admit it!” Arlais screamed at her mother. “Just admit you don’t trust me!”

“Of course I don’t trust you!” his mother barked back.

Frederick chuckled but Var didn’t understand why his sister wouldn’t simply tell their mother the truth. She’d turned Brigida down. Even if the old She-dragon hadn’t told him, Var would have known that. His sister would never trust Brigida and, more important, she wasn’t about to go live in a cave. With anyone. For any reason.

But instead of simply telling their mother that, she decided to torment her instead.

Honestly, the pair of them.

“By the way,” Frederick said, as he removed the spectacles on his face and quickly cleaned the glasses on a bit of cloth. “Your off-putting aunt Brigida was in the book tower a few minutes ago and—”

Var grabbed his cousin’s arm, cutting off his next words. “What do you mean she was in the tower? Doing what?”

Putting his spectacles back on, Frederick shrugged. “I don’t know. She went into the stacks and then she was gone.”

“Which stacks? Which books was she looking at?”

Frederick closed his eyes and Var knew his cousin was going through the titles in his head. He only had to read or see something once and the Northlander could remember every detail. It was quite a remarkable gift and one that Var and his mother used to their benefit whenever necessary.

After a few seconds, Frederick opened his eyes and looked at Var. “Ancient spells.”

“Fuuuuuuck.” Var pulled his cousin toward the back hallway.

“Where are we going?”

“To find out what that old witch is up to.”

“Should we tell your mother what’s going on?”

Var glanced back at his mother and sister. They’d started throwing loaves of bread at each other while still yelling.

He pushed his cousin ahead of him. “I’m going to say no.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Aidan stroked Brannie’s back, cringing each time she heaved again into the ocean water. And after each heave, she said the same thing to him: “I hate you. I hate you for doing this to me. I hate you. I hate you.”

Then she’d heave again.

“Still?” Caswyn asked, sitting down across from Aidan and Brannie. When Aidan only nodded, “How could there be anything left but blood and her internal organs?”

Aidan honestly didn’t know. Even drunk, Branwen had never vomited so much in front of him.

Continuing to rub her back, Aidan noticed that she’d finally stopped vomiting. He leaned over the edge of the ship, trying to see how she was holding up, but her arms hung down, fingertips coasting across the waves.

He caught her before she slipped completely into the water and dragged her back into the boat.

“She passed out?” Caswyn took out a cloth from the top of his boot and poured fresh water from the canteen in his travel bag onto it, handing it to Aidan.

Using the wet cloth, Aidan wiped Brannie’s face and neck.

Aidan had never seen Brannie like this before and he didn’t really know how to handle it.

He pulled her into his lap, her head against his chest, and stroked her hair.

“You think she’ll be all right?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine!” Keita crowed happily.

She walked past them and stood by Caswyn, staring out at the ocean. “Isn’t this delightful?” she asked them. “Such a beautiful day. And that fresh sea air.”

“Your cousin,” Aidan felt the need to remind Keita, “has been vomiting since she woke up after being hit by you.”

Keita faced him. “And?”

“Do you not care?”

“Of course I care. I love little Brannie.”

“Little?” Caswyn muttered.

“Look at her, Keita,” Aidan ordered. “Look at what’s happened to your cousin.”

“Why do you keep pointing out she’s my cousin? I know she’s my cousin.”

“And yet you don’t seem to care.”

“I care, I care. But so she has a little boat sickness . . .”

“A little boat sickness?”

“It’s not that big a deal. And, when you think about it, not actually surprising.”

Aidan let out a breath. “Why isn’t that surprising, Keita?”

“You know.”

“No. I don’t know.”

She shrugged her shoulders, raised her hands. “About her father . . .”

“What about her father?”

“He was once kidnapped by Sea Dragons.”

Caswyn blinked hard and stared up at Keita in shock. Uther, who’d been asleep against the hull, with his back to everyone, rolled over, his mouth open.

Aidan took a moment to calm himself. When he felt certain he wouldn’t yell, he said, “Her father was kidnapped by Sea Dragons and you didn’t say anything?”

“Why would I? She’s not Bram. She wasn’t even there. She wasn’t even hatched then. Bram and Ghleanna weren’t even mated. So what does it matter?”

“You don’t really understand . . . emotions, do you?” Uther asked.

“What does that mean?”

“For the first few decades of Branwen’s life,” Aidan reminded the princess, “she was raised by her father. Her mother was off in battle. You don’t think his fear of being kidnapped by Fins for a second time didn’t—”

“Third,” she cut in.

“What?”

“If I recall the story correctly, he was already kidnapped a second time, but that second time he was with Ghleanna.”

“Both her parents were taken by Fins?”

“I don’t know why you’re yelling at me.”

“Because you’re an idiot!”

“Well, that’s a tad unfair. It happened to them, not to her. I doubt they ever mentioned it.”

“A mated couple gets kid—”

“They weren’t mated.”

“What?”

“They weren’t mated when they were taken. They did, however, fall in love while they were there. Now isn’t that nice?”

“So of course her parents would never talk about the time they fell in love . . . to their offspring. While trapped underwater with the Fins.”

“I hear sarcasm,” Keita snapped.

“Because I was being sarcastic!”

“If she was so concerned, she should have said something.”

“She probably didn’t know.”

“How could she not know?”

“When was the last time any Cadwaladr had to travel by ocean? Or take a boat anywhere?”

“Um . . .”

Aidan shook his head and looked up at the sky as Uther suddenly stated, “Branwen probably didn’t realize how she felt. She picked up the fear from her father, but she buried it under layers of Cadwaladr bravado and denial until she was faced with the actual reality of getting on a boat and going out on the ocean. Then she had to face her true fear and it overwhelmed her.”