Dark One Rising by Leandra Martin Read Free Book Online Page B

sparkling in the afternoon sun. She tried using her girlish charms to persuade him. “Please.”
    He chuckled, for her playfulness always made him forget every pain. She wasn’t an ugly girl at all; on the contrary, she was a beautiful woman. Kevaan was ten years older than his sister, and when their mother died, he made sure she got all the best as she grew and often helped out whenever he could. He saw her bloom from an awkward tomboy, a lanky clumsy girl, to a vibrant feminine woman. All the attributes men find attractive were there. She was thin, but not boney, her features chiseled, but she lacked none of the womanly appeal. She had a small waist, perfectly proportioned hips, and a full bosom. Her long golden red, naturally curly hair was thick and shiny, and her skin was creamy and soft as a rose. Just like himself, she inherited her mother’s small nose, but unlike her father and brother’s eyes of brown, hers were emerald. Her color was different than anyone in the lineage, and it only added to her charm and intrigue. It wasn’t that men didn’t find her attractive when she was social and wore gowns; they practically tripped over themselves to be near her. It’s when she opened her mouth, showed them her personal side that men ran away. Even after growing up and learning how to be a lady, she never completely grew out of her tomboyish antics. She didn’t think a woman should be silent and always agreeable; she rode horses like the devil on the wind, still enjoyed swimming in the water hole down in the glen and fought with a sword better than a lot of men. She often dressed boyish too, like now, with baggy pants and shirt to hide her curves and knee high black riding boots. Her hair was pulled back and tied with a leather strap. Far away you may wonder about her gender dressed as she was, but up close, there was no mistake. He had asked her once why she dressed like that, and she said that whenever she dressed like a lady, mostly to try and make her father happy, men would come on to her, paw at her, and made statements of what they wanted from her. She grew weary of the innuendos and false personas.
    She spent a lot of time in the stables with her friend Lucan, which also bothered her father. He didn’t expect her to shun the people that worked for them, but it worried him that they were so close. Since Kevaan had gotten betrothed and moved away from the palace, she and Lucan spent many hours together. He was her friend, and confidant. Nothing could ever become of it, he knew, and so did she, for even she was not bold enough to start something romantic with a commoner. She respected Lucan too much to get him fired, or worse, hung for treason.
    She preferred to stay away from court as much as possible. Whenever there was a party in the castle, she would make an appearance at dinner, but then sneak away soon after, before the festivities started and the men would prowl. Just like at her birthday celebration. She did not tell him what Fallon said, but he knew it was probably vulgar and disrespectful.
    He looked back to that, how he had rescued her from what could have been a terrible situation. He promised her that everything would be fine, that father would never do anything without discussing it with him. How could he had been so wrong? Why was this so hard? If people would take the time to know her, they would see wonderful things.
    Most men generally liked her, especially the less haughty ones, and there had been interest a few times, but none of them ever turned into anything more. She was down-to-earth and easy to talk to, putting people at ease, except those looking for a wife. Those men were intimidated by her; their egos were damaged in her presence. He wished he could help her, wished he could protect her once again from the pain she would soon endure, but he knew he could not. He would only be able to comfort her later, and he knew this time it wouldn’t be enough.
    “I’m sorry, my little