Now. Now, Annwyl. No need to curtsy. A simple nod of your head and absolute worship will be more than enough.

And then what are your plans?”
Annwyl frowned. “My plans?”
“Yes. Your plans. You take your brother’s head, your troops are waiting. What is the next thing that you do?”
Annwyl just stared at him. He realized in that instant that the girl had no plans. None. No grand schemes of controlling the world. No plots to destroy any other empires. Not even the plan to have a celebratory dinner.
“Annwyl, you’ll be queen. You’ll have to do something.”
“But I don’t want to be queen.” Her body shook with panic, and he could hear it in her voice.
“You take his head, you’ll have little choice.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do as queen?”
“Well . .you could try ruling.”
“That sounds awfully complicated.

He sneered at his father. “He’ll live. I’m going after her.”
“What?” His sister stood up in front of her brother. “Fearghus, don’t. She’s angry. Very angry. She impaled your father . . . twice. Give her some time to calm down.

Of course you don’t trust Braith. You don’t trust anybody,” Ghleanna reminded their brother. “You don’t trust the air.”

“Because it tends to become unseasonably chilly when I’d prefer it to be warm. It’s as if it does it on purpose.

Are you in great physical pain, or is that your thinking expression?

What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She coughed, and released Talaith’s hand. “Except
you have some powerful enemies.”
“Tell me what I don’t know, witch.”
“Powerful enemies who are gods.”
For a moment, Annwyl was shocked beyond all reason…then
she shrugged. “Now that I think of it—I don’t know why I would be
surprised.