Grandmum sat down across from Uncle Bram. “What does this Rebel King want from me?”

“Well, they were hoping that I could help them or their representatives get permission to enter the Desert Lands.”

Grandmum laughed. “Not with King Heru now in charge!”

“That’s what I told them. It would be a long, arduous process and I’m sure by then, Vateria would only move on.”

“So what’s the next option?”

“We send in our own to track Vateria down.”

“And why would we do that?”

“There are many reasons.”

“Name one that would actually make me care. Because at the moment this seems more like an internal family issue than a political one. And I don’t involve myself in other dragons’ family issues.”

“I understand, my queen, and normally I’d agree with you. But it’s believed that Vateria is working to secure an ally that will help her family regain their dead father’s throne. With what I’ve been hearing lately about unrest in the Desert Lands, the citizens might be eager for such a move, depending on what she can promise.”

“I understand that, Bram. And she could be sucking the cocks of every Sand Eater soldier in the hopes of getting her own army. But until she actually puts that army into play for her own benefit, I have no intention of striking her down simply because she doesn’t know how to treat her cousin properly.”

There was a long silence after Grandmum’s words and she looked around the Great Hall at everyone staring at her and demanded, “What? What are you all looking at?”

“That was just so”—Auntie Morfyd shrugged—“rational of you.”

“Aye.” Uncle Fearghus rested his arms against the table and studied his mother. “I thought at the very least you’d send in Keita to poison her.”

Auntie Morfyd grinned. “I thought that, too!”

Aghast, Grandmum snapped, “I’m not a monster!”

“Heh.”

Everyone looked down the length of the table. Auntie Annwyl covered her mouth. “Oh, did I say that out loud?”

Grandmum’s eyes narrowed while her children quietly laughed. “I’m not saying Vateria’s not a problem. I’d just prefer we had something a little more concrete on her than she tortures her cousin.” Although to Rhi that alone seemed more than enough.

“We’ll send someone south,” Uncle Gwenvael suggested. “Get more information and find out if Vateria’s truly a threat or if she’s just f**king one of the Sand Eaters for entertainment.”

Grandmum nodded. “I like that idea. Who will we send?”

Izzy, who was still staring out into the courtyard, her arms folded under her chest, looked at Grandmum over her shoulder. “I’ll go.”

While everyone else took a moment to be stunned, Mum jumped to her feet. “Like hells you will!”

“I’m going, Mum.”

“This has nothing to do with Vateria, Izzy. This is all about my mother.”

Izzy shrugged. “Two vile bitches, one stone.”

“I forbid it.”

“I don’t report to you, my lady.” And Rhi winced at that one. “And before Annwyl tries to stay on your good side—”

“I haven’t said a word!” Auntie Annwyl complained.

“—keep in mind that none of you can actually blend in while in the south. But I can.”

“I don’t care what bloody Annwyl says about a bloody thing!” Mum roared. “You will not do this!”

“Wait.” Daddy gripped Mum’s wrist and pulled her over to him and onto his lap. “Everyone just wait.” He looked Izzy over for a moment. “I’ll ask you straight out, Iseabail, Daughter of Talaith and Briec. . . . Are you planning to kill your grandmother?”

“I’d like to,” Izzy immediately shot back. “But no. I want to look her in the eye. I want to find out for myself whether my sister can be trusted with her.”

“And if you think she can be?”

Izzy rubbed her nose with the palm of her hand, scratched her cheek, then spit out, “Then I’ll bring her here to meet with Rhi.” Her sister looked over and Rhi felt her heart stop in her chest. “You can make your decision then, Rhi, about what you want to do next.”

Rhi jumped up and sprinted across the room and into her sister’s arms. “Thank you, Izzy! Thank you!”

Izzy tightly hugged her back. “You’re welcome. But,” she felt the need to add, “if I don’t like the evil cow—”

“I know. I know.” Rhi bounced on her toes while continuing to hug her sister. “Still! You’re trying!”

“You can’t go alone, Iseabail,” Uncle Bram warned her. “Although your many weapons and dressing as a warrior will work to your benefit as long as you remove your colors, women don’t usually travel alone in the south. They either travel with family members or other women.”

“I’ll ask Brannie.”

“She hates the desert heat, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll get her drunk first, and she’ll go far enough with me that by the time she sobers up, it’ll be too much trouble to head back.”

“Ah, yes,” Uncle Bram sighed. “A father does love hearing that about his daughter.”

Once the decision was made that Izzy would be going and, of course, somehow tricking poor Brannie to go along, she disappeared with Bram to get a quick lesson in Desert Land etiquette; Talaith stormed off, most likely to rant about her firstborn, Briec following her with an eye roll and a sigh; and everyone else went their own way until dinner time. All except Talan, who was still asleep in a chair, snoring.