“You bastard! Let me down!""Not on your life, beauty." The godlen claw gripped her tighter. "You get hurt, he'll kill me. Now quiet. I'm trying not to vomit." --Gwenvael to Annwyl”
“Dagmar tried to stand, and Gwenvael caught her hand, pulling her back down. "You can't leave me. I'm tortured and brooding. You need to show me how much you adore me so I can learn to love myself again.""You've never stopped loving yourself.""Because I'm amazing.”
“This wasn’t what she expected. Never, in her wildest dreams. This... this was the Blood Queen of Garbhán Isle? Scourge of the Madron lands? Destroyer of Villages? Demon Killer of Women and Children? She who had blood pacts with the darkest of gods? This was Annwyl the Bloody?Talaith watched, fascinated, as Annwyl held onto Morfyd the Witch’s wrists. Morfyd — the Black Witch of Despair, Killer of the Innocent, Annihilator of Souls, and all around Mad Witch of Garbhán Isle or so she was called on the Madron lands — had actually tried to sneak up on Annwyl to put ointment on the nasty wound the queen had across her face. But as soon as the warrior saw her, she squealed and grabbed hold of her. Now Annwyl lay on her back, Morfyd over her, trying her best to get Annwyl to stop being a ten year old. “If you just let me—” “No! Get that centaur shit away from me, you demon bitch!”“Annwyl, I’m not letting you go home to my brother looking like that. You look horrific.” “He’ll have to love me in spite of it. Now get off!”...“Ow!” “Crybaby.” No, this isn’t what Talaith expected. Annwyl the Blood Queen was supposed to be a vicious, uncaring warrior bent on revenge and power. She let her elite guard rape and and pillage wherever they went, and she used babies as target practice while their mothers watched in horror. That’s what she was supposed to be and that’s what Talaith expected to find. Instead, she found Annwyl. Just Annwyl. A warrior who spent most of her resting time reading or mooning over her consort. She was silly, charming, very funny, and fiercely protective of everyone. Her elite guard, all handpicked by Annwyl, were sweet, vicious fighters and blindingly loyal to their queen.”
“Gwenvael looked down at his body. Horrified, he sat up. “What is this? What’s happened to me?”“Calm down. It’ll heal quick enough, I’m sure.”“Heal? I’m hideous!”“You’re alive.”“Hideously alive!” He covered her face with his hands. “Don’t look at me! Look away!”“Stop it!” She pulled at his hands. “Have you lost your mind?”Gwenvael dropped back to the bed, turned his face toward the wall. “You know what this means, don’t you?”“Gwenvael—”“I’ll have to live alone, at the top of a castle somewhere. I’ll hide from the daylight and only come out at night.”“Please stop this.”“I’ll be alone but not for long because you’ll all want me more. You’ll lust for the beautiful warrior I once was and pity the hideous creature I’ve become. Most importantly, you’ll want to soothe my pain.” He looked at her again. “Don’t you want to soothe my pain? Right now? Without that dress on?”“No. I do not.”Dagmar tried to stand, and Gwenvael caught her hand, pulling her back down. “You can’t leave me. I’m tortured and brooding. You need to show me how much you adore me so I can learn to love myself again.”“You’ve never stopped loving yourself.”“Because I’m amazing.”
“Adjusting her frames, Dagmar said, “It’s time for you to stop talking.”“I don’t want to.”“But you will stop talking.”“We’re on my territory now, Beast. You can’t strut around here and pretend you rule all—”“Quiet.”“But—”She raised her right forefinger.“She—”Dagmar raised that damn forefinger higher.“It’s just—”Now she brandished both forefingers. “Stop.”He gave Dagmar his best pout, which she completely ignored, turning her back on him to again face Annwyl. “Think there might be some place private we can talk, my lady?”Gwenvael’s mouth dropped open. “Did you just dismiss—”Dagmar held up that damn forefinger again but didn’t even bother to look at him when she did.Annwyl’s grin was wide and bright. A smile Gwenvael hadn’t seen from her in far too long. “Right this way, Lady Dagmar.”“Thank you.” Dagmar brusquely snapped her fingers at Gwenvael. “And don’t forget to bring my bags up once I get a room, Defiler.”Annwyl fairly glowed as she followed Dagmar from the room, her smile growing by the second. Gwenvael faced his sister. “It’s Ruiner, which is a vast difference.So get it right!” he yelled at the empty doorway.”
“Normally, I’d lie and connive and do whatever necessary to make you take me into the south.”“But …”More tears began to flow. “But that thing …”“Thing? What thing?”“That thing … in one’s head … that tells you when something would be wrong to do. It won’t let me do it.”Feeling a sudden high level of annoyance, Gwenvael carefully asked, “Do you mean your … conscience?”Her tears turned into hysterical sobs, and she went down on her side, her head dropping into his lap.“Dagmar! Everyone has a conscience.”“I don’t!”“Of course you do.”“I’m a politician, Gwenvael! Of course, I don’t have a conscience. At least I didn’t. Now I’m cursed with one. And it’s your fault!”Somehow he knew that last bit would happen.”
“I’ll go talk to them,” Annwyl said. But she cracked her knuckles. “Right now.”Izzy cut in front of Annwyl, forced a smile. “Why don’t I talk to them? Daddy listens to me.”“You want my sword?”Izzy blinked. Hard. “No. I don’t think that’s necessary. To talk to my father and uncles that I adore.”“You want me warhammer then?”