I tensed, casting a glance over my shoulder. The tables were mostly empty now, but a handful of dwarves were only a few seats over. “You can’t talk about it so openly. I meant what I said about mobs.”
“I understand.” He braced his forearms on the table and leaned closer. “So I’ll phrase it this way. How’d you get yourself a monstrous, fire-breathing, death-devouring—”
“Stop it,” I hissed and swatted at his arm. As soon as my fingers made contact with his warm skin, I froze. His eyes zeroed in on where we touched. Hastily, I drew back my hand.
“Relax,” he said with a lazy smile. “No one’s paying attention to us.”
“Nilsa is most certainly paying attention.”
“She doesn’t know about the little bird?”
“More like a large bat,” I said. “And of course she does. Nilsa and I share everything with each other.”
“You tell her where you hid my ale, then?”
“Keep talking like that, and I won’t tell you any more about my bat friend.”
He gasped, pressing a hand to his heart. “You wound me, darling.”
I grinned. Ragnar smiled back. And everything within me relaxed. It reminded me of that night we’d shared beneath the stars, the way I’d felt around him before we’d turned on each other. It all seemed silly now. All that bickering, and for what? It was just ale.
Nilsa waddled over with two trays nearly overflowing with food and drink. Ragnar and I leapt to our feet in unison and helped her unload it all. The bowl of stew was nearly the size of my head, and my bread roll could have fed at least five. But it was nothing compared to the four plates she dealt to Ragnar. Two goblets of wine joined the table, along with a jug of water.
I tucked into my food the second my arse hit the bench again.
Ragnar and I sat in silence as we ate, too famished for words. The savory spices of the bean stew warmed me from head to toe, and the freshly-baked bread, coated with butter and herbs, quickly chased away the hunger. I sipped my wine—a smooth concoction of summer berries—before stabbing my fork at the edge of Ragnar’s apple pie.
“Whoa now, little thief.” He chuckled, tugging his pie plate over to his side of the table. “I’m catching you in the act this time.”
“I ordered the pie. Technically, it’s mine.”
Grinning, he pushed it a little closer to me, but then he pulled it back to his chest when I tried to snatch a little bite of it. “I’ll share. But first, you have to tell me about the bat.”
“Fair enough.” I took a sip of wine before I started. “I have a brother. He was a warrior like you until he saw things that…changed him. Anyway, he wanted to get away from all that, so we decided to leave the Kingdom of Edda and find the Isles. It was a long journey. One night, we were camping in a cave, and we came across four newborn dragons.” I smiled at the memory. “We brought them here, where we’ve raised them in a mountain near Wyndale. And as far as Reykur is concerned, I’m sort of his mother. Or…a good friend, I guess you could say.”
“I would have said a pet.”
“More than a pet.”
“And so he followed you here.”
Nodding, I nibbled on the remaining chunk of bread. “He likes to join me on my travels, and he’s come to Riverwold every Yule for years. But he usually stays inside a cave in the Sunlit Ridge, out of sight of the townspeople and visitors.”
“Because you’re worried about the mobs, as you call them.”
“Can you blame me?” I asked. “You know the stories of the folk who tried to channel dragon magic and couldn’t control it. And as much as I hate to say it, those stories are all true. It killed a lot of people.” I dropped the bread onto my plate, no longer hungry. “But I’m hoping I can one day convince everyone to give Reykur a chance. He seems…lonely.”
“He’s gotyou, Lilia,” said Ragnar. “And from where I’m sitting, he’s damn lucky he does.”
My cheeks went hot, and I fiddled with the napkin in my lap again. I didn’t know how to respond to that. If he didn’t start accusing me of committing another crime soon, I might very well melt into the floor.
“An absolute masterpiece,” he murmured.
My heart lurched, and I lifted my head to catch him staring at me. “What?”
“The pie.” He deposited half of it onto one of his empty plates, then passed it to me. “I just tried a bite. It’s some of the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“Oh.” The heat of my cheeks burned down to my chest. “Thanks for sharing.”
