She clawed at the dress. “Get this off me!” she ordered while storming back to the changing room. “Get this off me!”
Celyn watched the Rider stalk to the changing room at the back of the store. Lolly tried to run after her, but she was silently laughing so hard, she could barely stand, while Celyn, with his arms around his stomach, was bent over at the waist, tears streaming down his face as he desperately attempted to hold in his laughter.
Lolly playfully slapped at his head. “Stop it!” she whispered. “Stop it!”
Lolly was right. He really should stop it. But Elina made it simply too easy for him. It had been downhill for Elina ever since he’d had Lolly put the woman in something called petticoats. Yet uphill for Celyn. Because her rage entertained him more than he thought anything could.
When Celyn finally caught his breath, he told Lolly, “Put her in what I picked out.”
Gasping, Lolly nodded and headed toward the changing rooms.
“And I’ll pay for whatever she’s ripped up or set on fire.”
That made Lolly laugh harder as she stumbled away.
Celyn stood and walked to the front door of Lolly’s shop. He stepped outside and relaxed his back against the wood post where the store’s sign hung.
This was a small town, but it had a wonderful blacksmith. He made strong human armor and the Cadwaladrs provided him and his blacksmith son and daughters with much business. It was why Celyn knew the town so well. He’d often come here with Brannie, his mum, and Izzy, but since he never needed as much human armor as they did, he’d spent most of his time chatting up the locals. Found out lots of things when talking to people. Once he’d even found out about a plot to assassinate Annwyl. He’d immediately let Fearghus know, but the future king of the Southland dragons had said nothing to Annwyl, although he’d informed all of her guards. Celyn had been a bit confused about that. He felt it was something she needed to know. But he had quickly figured out just how much Fearghus simply enjoyed watching his human mate personally tear the skin from her enemies.
Aye, they were an interesting couple, Fearghus and Annwyl.
When Celyn had first met the human queen, he hadn’t understood what had lured his older cousin. For a human, she wasn’t exactly plain, but clearly keeping up her looks wasn’t a high priority either. She wore nothing to entice and until recently her hair had always seemed to need a good brushing. But as Celyn came to know her, he understood more. Annwyl was blunt, strong, smarter than she seemed, and loyal. Gods, so very loyal. Annwyl would stop at nothing to keep those she loved safe. Absolutely nothing.
Such loyalty made her a monarch feared by those who did not understand her. And her love of a dragon whose mark she wore boldly not only on her armor, but on her body, did nothing but put people off. Then Annwyl had had the twins, and the fear of many humans had doubled. For eons it had been impossible for dragons and humans to produce offspring. Yes, they could mate when a dragon took human form, but nothing had ever come of it except mutual enjoyment or general disappointment. But all that had changed with Annwyl and Fearghus. Now there were many offspring of dragon-human couplings, and those who hated and feared these offspring referred to them as the Abominations.
Seemed a bit unfair, but as usual, Celyn could see both sides of the matter.
He could understand the fear of humans and dragons alike. The offspring of dragon-human couplings were uniquely powerful. They looked like humans for the most part, but they had powers that were never exactly the same from one offspring to another.
That was where the fear came from, Celyn believed. The not knowing. Not knowing what these offspring could do. Even they didn’t know. At least not right away.
So Celyn did understand the fear, but not the hatred. He didn’t understand dragons who hated humans. Or humans who hated dragons. Or anyone who hated someone for being brought into this world without any say in the matter.
Then again, no one ever asked his opinion on anything. Except Rhiannon. But he always felt she did that simply to irritate Bercelak. She enjoyed irritating Bercelak.
“Lord Celyn?”
Celyn snorted. “Lolly, you of all beings know I am no lord.” He turned and walked back into the store. “If anything I’m as far from . . .”
Celyn stopped. Nodded at what he saw. “Perfect.”
“If you already had this, Dolt,” asked the Rider, standing beside a grinning Lolly, “then why must I put on other clothes?”
“To amuse me.”
“I loathe you more and more every day.”
Lolly quickly covered her mouth, turned her face away.
“Aye, I can tell,” Celyn agreed.
He walked around Elina. Aye. These clothes were perfect. Black leggings, a blue cotton shirt, and black leather boots that went over her knees. He had no need to pass her off as some grand lady, simply as a traveler. But he still wanted to make sure she could move on her horse and, more importantly, use her bow unobstructed by the sometimes-ridiculous clothes of humans.
“That fur and leather cape I picked out should do it, Lolly.”
Lolly put the cape around Elina’s shoulders. She fussed with it a bit before she was satisfied, stepping back beside Celyn and smiling. “You look wonderful,” she gushed.
Elina stared at the two of them, her mouth slightly open, her eyes drawn down in a distinct expression of disgust.
“I do not understand you people,” Elina finally admitted.
“That’s all right,” Celyn said. “I’m here to lead the way.”