Page 107 of Ashborne: Defiance

“Trust me,” she said with a wry smile. “Unless you’re willing to tease them, it’s going to be a very uncomfortable life. They’ll be gentler with you than they are with each other, but even ladies won’t escape their jibes. I promise.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Were the men cruel and cutting, like most of the nobles I’d grown up with? Or was it cocky bravado? Some of the heirs weren’t cruel, but they seemed to lack any skill in serious conversation. Everything was innuendo, or gossip. And any attempt at genuine talk was met with blank smiles, a quick change of subject, or flight.

A lot of them ran from me.

I frowned, chewing my lip as Bren led me along the paths to the biggest of the buildings—two full wings the size of a manor-house, windows shuttered and thickly framed on the higher levels, but a wide hall at the ground floor, with two sets of large, double-doors, and more massive windows, each as tall as a man, that ran the length of the front wall.

The noise inside was shocking—even louder than a banquet because the entire space was stone. Stone floor. Stone walls. Even the high, wooden beam rafters propped a stone ceiling.

Dozens of tables, each set for ten large men, were organized in orderly lines around the room. Some with benches, others with individual chairs. More tables lined the back wall, with the first women I’d seen other than the seamstresses, all standing behind it, over steaming pots and trays, serving food to the men as they walked along the line with plates.

Halfway across the floor, one deep, happy voice rose above the echoing hubbub. “Aho! There she is!”

Bren’s head snapped to the right. Her face lit up. “Gil!”

I watched, my chest tight and warm in the same breath, as Bren darted across the floor, between tables, to be caught up in the arms of the other man who’d accompanied her to a ball in Fyrehold when Donavyn couldn’t. Where Voski’s broad-shouldered, trim build reminded me of a powerful cat, Gil was as tall, but thick and strong, like a horse. There was something quick and terrifying about Voski. But he lacked the bulk of this man.

Gil—face and hands dirty, his hair wet with sweat—swung Bren around in a hug, beaming, then set her back on her feet as a small crowd of men gathered behind him.

“We weren’t expecting you for another day! I’m so glad you’re safe!”

“I made up time on the flight. Traveling alone is easy, and I knew you’d miss me, so I needed to hurry.”

Gil smiled wide as half the men behind him groaned or rolled their eyes.

“You’re just in time!” Bren said. “I’ve got Grace!”

The men’s faces went wide with surprise. One of them, a sandy-haired man in leathers, who looked to be about my age, but with a boyish grin, waved. “Hello Bren’s friend, Grace!”

“Friend?” Bren frowned at them. “What do you mean, friend? I mean, yes, she is but she’s so much more than that—didn’t you hear?”

Gil, standing in front of the others, looked back over his shoulder and shrugged. “I just arrived. They’ve been distracted,” he said, then winked at me over Bren’s shoulder.

I smiled. And swallowed hard.

Bren gestured to where I stood, ten feet away, gaping.

“Grace, these are our brothers. Come say hello!” She walked back to me, took me by the hand and pulled me forward. “I befriended Grace in Fyrehold. But after I left, she was Chosen, and her dragon bonded with Kham and—wait, where’s Voski?” She looked past the group. Everyone turned to look for Voski—who was hunched, sitting at the end of the table, next to the wall of the dining hall. “Voski, didn’t you tell them?”

I couldn’t see Voski’s face, but whatever he did—or said—made Bren put her hands on her hips and shake her head.

“Tell us what?” asked one of the men, with a shock of white hair and gray eyes that were eerily light.

Bren’s eyes narrowed and she muttered something under her breath, then suddenly, my friend, and now dragon-sister, became a whirlwind.

While she quickly relayed the bare bones of what had happened—me following Voski, Koa choosing me, our dragons mating, Koa agreeing to submit to Kgosi, and our hurried return to the Keep—she dragged me toward the men, then through them, pulled back a chair across the table from Voski, who huddled over his plate and stared at us with hunted eyes. Bren gripped my shoulder, pressing me down into a seat, then turned to face the rest of the men.

“She’ll be acknowledged tomorrow, and she’s our new sister!”

The men’s brows all shot toward their hairlines. Half of them then snapped heads to gape at me, while the others turned on Voski.

“What the fuck, bro—you knew?”

“Nice to meet you, Grace. I’m Oros.” He was the largest man I’d ever seen. Where Gil was a stallion, Oros was a bull.

“Sneaky bastard.”

“Not too sneaky if she could follow him.”