“And my father had what he wanted.”
“Sons and a title.” Owena rolled her eyes. “I always hated your father. Scum on a dying pond has more integrity than your father.”
“Doesn’t that lack of integrity taint me? Being his daughter?”
“You’re not his daughter,” Owena snapped, one finger pointing at her. “You’re your mum’s daughter. You’re a Penarddun. Just like your mother and your mother’s mother and her mother’s mother. Going back a millennium. Your father was nothing more than a means to a very important end.
“But,” Owena went on, leaning back in the chair, “it seems his time is over.”
“He’s betrayed the Queen.”
“No. He betrayed Addiena. That’s a fool’s game.” Owena studied her. “And she sent you to catch him?”
“It was either him or me.” She glanced over at the chamber where Addolgar recovered. “If it wasn’t for Addolgar and the Cadwaladr Clan, the Queen’s Guard would be tossing my head off Devenallt Mountain as we speak.” Braith ran her hands through her hair. “Is it true?” she asked. “Did my father really threaten to—”
“You know it’s true, Braith.”
“Do I?”
Owena leaned in. “You know. Penardduns don’t lie. We hit. And we hit because we know we’re stronger than most males. In fact, we’re so strong it’s hard for us to find males willing to put up with us. But you know, as a female, that if we could have, if we thought for a minute that your father wouldn’t carry through with his vile threat—we would have come for you. We would have been there to lay your mum to rest. To perform all the rituals she was due. We never would have let you face that alone. Not the daughter of our dear sister. And definitely not a female of our line.”
Braith finally had to ask, “What about the males of our line?”
Owena shrugged, flipped her hand casually. “We care for them. Love them. I have two of my own.” Her flitting hand swept the air. “They’re around somewhere. And I love them.” Her lips pursed a bit, and Braith felt her heart tighten when she recognized the gesture as one her mother had often made. “They are a bit stupid, though.”
The pain around Braith’s heart lessened when she had to laugh. “Aunt Owena.”
“They can’t help it, you know. It happens in the egg,” she reasoned. “As soon as they grow that genitalia, intelligence goes right out the window and we’re left with this thing that just wants to stick it in any hole.”
“Aunt Owena!”
“Oh, tell me I’m wrong!”
“Well,” Braith admitted, “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Of course you can’t. But that’s all right. We’re Penardduns, which means we accept males as they are. Handsome but stupid and useless without us.”
“That is very giving of you,” Braith teased.
But Owena said, in all seriousness, “I know.”
Addolgar opened his eyes again and announced, “You’re young again, Braith of the Darkness!”
Braith frowned. “What?”
“You’re young again. I saw you much older and you were still astoundingly beautiful. But now you’re young again . . . and you’ve multiplied.”
“Multi . . .”
Braith looked over her shoulder and snarled at the additional versions of herself. “Don’t you lot have something else to do?”
“Come on,” one of the copies said to the others. “She’s got her claws into this one.”
“You need to learn to share, Braith of the Darkness,” said another.
“You need to piss off, cousin.”
One copy grabbed another copy’s arm. “Come on, sister. She’s attached to this one. You might as well give it up.”
With some grumbling, the copies departed, leaving Addolgar alone with the original. The perfect, delicious original.
“How do you feel?” Braith asked him.
“Not bad. But I think that’s because the Older You had me drink some ale that’s completely wiped any and all pain from my system. I want to bring some of that home.”
Braith dropped her head, but he could tell from the way her shoulders shook that she was laughing.
“Well,” she finally said, “I’m glad you’re all right. I was worried.”
“So was I. But Older You took very good care of me.”
“You should know, Addolgar, that Older Me is Owena. And I wouldn’t call her Older anything, if I were you.”
“Good idea. The lasses hate that.”
“Yes. We lasses do.”
Braith tucked the fur covering around Addolgar’s body, but he pushed the covers off again.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Get in.”
Braith’s eyebrows went up. “Get in? Are you mad?”
“No. I need you to help me heal.”
“Addolgar the Cheerful, you need no such thing!”
“Owena!” Addolgar yelled out as Braith desperately tried to cover his mouth. “Braith won’t help me heal!”
“Gods, child!” Owena called from the other chamber. “Just get into bed with the big idiot. It’s not like he can do anything with as much of your aunt’s ale as I made him drink.”
Addolgar grinned. “See? She agrees with me.”