Dragon Defense (Heirs to the Throne Book 3) by Diane Rapp Read Free Book Online Page A

Ryan’s face burned with shame.  “I suppose you both want to meet my daughters, along with half the young men of the kingdom?” 
    Donovan laughed heartily as both boys blushed. 
    “It’s a daunting prospect to compete for headstrong young women.  There will be a ball soon and everyone will have a chance.”  Donovan noticed Krystal frown and stifled further comment.  “Welcome to Havenshire, lads.”
    Lord Dartmouth, ruler of the seaside fief of Griswold, ambled forward with the rolling gait of a seaman.  Donovan remembered sunny days fishing and grinned at Dar. 
    The seaman’s eyes sparkled with pride. “King Donovan, I proudly introduce my son and heir, Brandon.”               
    The young man inherited Dar’s height and slender build, but the wavy sun-streaked hair and sultry gray eyes were a gift from his mother’s blood.  Secure about his allure, Brandon cast sidelong glances at comely ladies seated nearby, inflaming protective feelings in Donovan.  He suddenly wished he could banish this young man to the farthest reaches of his kingdom.
    Donovan forced his voice to sound friendly.  “Welcome to the castle, Brandon.  You were just a boy when I last visited your domain.”
    Brandon smiled and looked more handsome.  “I remember your visit well, my lord.  You’ve been my hero since that day.”  His deep voice sounded respectful.  “It’s a great pleasure to visit your court.”  The young man executed an elegant bow.
    Donovan’s resistance melted, after all the boy’s manners seemed exemplary.  He could hardly blame the lad for inheriting a fine-looking face.  “You’re welcome at Havenshire.” 
    “Thank you, my lord.”  Brandon met the king’s gaze with confidence while Dar grinned.
    Lord Trask, the overbearing ruler of the fief of Wimsley, stomped forward.  Two shy youngsters followed in his wake. “My lord,” Trask barked.  “Here’s my worthless son, Julian, and his equally worthless cousin, Ross.  Awaken a bit of backbone in them, and I’ll be eternally grateful.  God knows I’ve tried everything.”  The boys shrank from Trask’s sour stare. 
    Donovan felt sorry for the youngsters.  He remembered the bite of Trask’s criticism during Council meetings.  Julian—a lanky boy with mousy brown hair and light blue eyes—tripped as he approached the dais.  He glanced at his father and muttered, “It is a pleasure to meet you, sire.”
    Donovan’s heart ached for the shy boy.  “You are welcome in my court, Julian.”  Ross stepped forward, and Donovan recognized the rider who won the spring horse races.  “Ross, I’d bet you know my stockman, Josh.”
    Ross grinned.  “We’re all fast friends, sire.”
    Donovan grinned.  “I’m delighted to welcome a man who understands horseflesh.”
    Lord Trask scowled.  “Suffer them both as long as you can be bothered, and then send them back home.”  He stomped away.
    Josh stood nearby and Donovan said, “Josh looks eager to whisk you both to the stables.  Go along.”  The stockman gestured at his friends. 
    “Thank you, sire.”  Ross sighed, eyeing his uncle’s departing figure.  “He’s not always so gruff.  We had a bad year, and he’s got much on his mind.” 
    Donovan admired the boy’s loyalty to a gruff uncle and wondered if these boys would enjoy training with Trenton.
    Lord Hembly hobbled forward, leaning on his cane.  Donovan recognized the beautiful girl at his side.  “King Donovan,” Lord Hembly’s voice filled with emotion.  “I’d like to formally present my daughter, Angela.”  Krystal rushed forward to embrace the girl she trained at the fire mountain.
    Donovan said, “Angela is a friend of our family.”  The girl’s russet hair was thickly plated in a long braid; her pale skin flushed a delicate pink and eyes filled with tears as Krystal hugged her.  “Welcome to court, Angela.”
    Usually a caustic man, Hembly glowed with pride.