The Kingdom of Talador

Chapter Sixty-Six

Rowan of Monalin

"....and never wag your finger at him. He'll eat it."

Rowan blinked, noticing that there was no "try to eat it" just straight up "eat it". She nodded slowly, staring at the dragon still sleeping in her lap. And then casually curled up all her fingers protectively.

For the last few minutes, Freja and Brinn had been schooling her on a few things for early care. Namely what Torin should eat, and when and where he should sleep, and if he should ever be left alone. Since apparently dragonlings were like teething puppies for a good majority of their juvenile lives, the answer to the last one was no. Freja also briefly talked about whistle training, but had waved that off as a lesson for later, when Torin wasn't an infant.

The peace was lovely.

That is, until it was broken.

All three women looked up, and Torin was startled awake, as the bedroom door was opened without a knock. Two guards stood in the doorway, and Ro had a very bad feeling about this.

"Rowan of Monalin," said one of the guards. "You're under arrest by order of the king."

Wow. Okay. Yep. That conversation obviously did not go well between Will and his father. Before the guards could come and haul her away, Ro gently but quickly lifted Torin off of herself and placed him back onto the pillow. She stood up and stared at Freja and Brinn, who stared back in surprise, fear, and anger as the guards both took Ro by either arm. Under any other circumstance, she'd fight, but she had a feeling she knew why this was happening, and so let it happen. "Watch 'im fer me," she told the Valnattas as she was dragged from the room.

"Lady Rowan—!" Brinn tried to call after her, but Freja put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. The older princess's grim and unhappy expression was the last Ro saw before she was taken down the hallway.

The last thing she heard was a frightened squeal from her dragonling.

Oho there would be consequences for this.

"Oi, no need t'strangle me arms, y'bastards," she barked, annoyed with the situation in the first place, but further angered by both their mishandling of her and the distress her absence was putting Torin in. "I know the way t'the dungeon, y'know, I questioned the assassin there."

But apparently, they weren't listening.

Well hey, at least she was pretty sure Seán was still there.

....Gods this was a mess.

Rowan's anger was starting to turn into anxiety the closer to the dungeons they got. She realized she was likely being thrown in here because Will had mentioned the idea of courting, but she couldn't help but fear that the king knew something he wasn't supposed to.

Namely, the whole casual treason thing.

Her heart quickened and her fire was extinguished as they went down the stone steps into the dark abyss of cells. The only other living thing here, as far as she knew, was her brother.

Oh. And the rats.

One guard released her to open a cell, and the other tossed her into it unceremoniously, and she stumbled forward. It was a feat of balance for her not to end up falling over. She darted for the cell door again, stomping towards the guards angrily, but they slammed it into her face.

Rowan grabbed the bars and rattled them, calling after them, "You'll regret that, y'fookers!" Then with a harsh sigh, she crossed her arms and sat on the floor. It was damp, and with what, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Ro?"

She looked up to see her brother sitting in the opposite cell. He got up from the shadows in the back and came into the light at the front of his own cell. He grabbed the bars, and she could see the concern and anger on his face. "The hells are you doin' in here?"

Rowan shrugged and looked away. "Dunno. Apparently I'm 'under arrest, by order o' the kiiing'," she repeated the guards' words mockingly.

"....I told ya the king would never allow it."

"Oh shut the fook up!" she snapped at him. "Y'can be a smug bastard later."

Seán sighed and sat on the floor too. He gazed at her sadly, fingers still curled around the bars, and murmured, "I'm sorry, Ro."

Rowan's eyes had begun to sting, and she wiped her nose with a sniff. "Aye, y'should be," she muttered, still not meeting his gaze. "'Cause y'were wrong." Then she glared at him. "I ain't fookin' pregnant, by the fookin' way."

He snorted, resting his forehead on the cell door. "I'm sorry fer that too." He looked up at her with concern. "Y'okay?"

"No," she retorted. "I'm in the fookin' dungeon." Both William and Charlin's words came back to her. The dungeon is no place for a lady.

Well, now that she was on the criminal receiving end, she agreed.

But on top of that, her arms ached a little. The guards hadn't exactly been nice about this. Why would they? Y'don't get the order to arrest someone and treat them with dignity. Anyone in a position to be arrested clearly didn't deserve it.

Tosspots.

She had faith that Will would get her out...somehow. But in the meantime she was going to be frightened and angry about it. She'd expected the king to be unhappy, but this unhappy? How much had William provoked him? Gods.

And why did King Jacob hate her so much? What had she done?

Well. Brought two dragons and a pair of strangers into his home without warning or permission. That was fair.

But she'd also saved Will's life and shot the assassin down, and squeezed the information out of the fucker. She was balanced out, in her opinion. But once again, her opinion was the unpopular one.

"It'll be alright, Ro."

She looked up as Seán spoke again. There was sincerity in his eyes, and she could tell he genuinely felt sorry for this, and for his hand in it. With another sniff and a single tear, she replied, "I hope so." She wiped the tear away with a scowl. No. Not any fucking more, damn it.

"I know so," he murmured. He reached his hand out to her, and even though the gap between them was too big to close, she reached for him too. It was enough.

"Seán?"

"Hmm?"

Rowan sighed. "I know yer upset with me. And with Will. But....I trust him. An' you used ta too. Don't let that change 'cause o' me."

Seán made a sympathetic and apologetic expression. "I know, Ro," he responded softly. "I won't. I'm sorry. If he loves ya like y'say he does, then....I guess I'm jus' gonna hafta live with it, aren't I?"

She managed to giggle. "Oh aye, if y'wanna keep yer knighthood y'do."

He laughed too, shaking his head. "Y'think I'm still a damn knight after this?"

"O' course y'are," she replied, furrowing her brows. "Yer alright now. An' Will understands that y'were jus' tryna protect me—fer no reason, but, y'know. I'm sure you'll be hunky-dory in no time. 'Sides, I won't letcha lose it."

A few moments of silence passed then, and Ro had a feeling it was going to be a while. Then Seán spoke up again. "How's yer hatchlin'?"

Rowan grinned. "In perfect health, accordin' t'Freja. Fluffy little lad. Name's Torin." Then she frowned. "But 'e's probably scared t'death without me right now...." When Freja had said imprinting, she meant imprinting. Torin had gotten so utterly attached to Rowan in such a short time, it was both heartwarming and startling.

And then she'd been ripped away from him.

He'd already lost one mum.

He would not lose this one too.