The Silent Dragon: Children of The Dragon Nimbus #1 Read Online Free Page B

crown in his hands. He thought about the growing knot on the back of his head. “Um . . . maybe I’ll just carry it today.”
    “Are you certain, Your Grace? The symbolism . . .”
    “The symbolism be damned. My head hurts. And . . . and I think someone just tried to kill me.”

CHAPTER 4
    P RINCESS ROSSELINDA DE DRACONIS slipped into her place between her two ladies-in-waiting (last month they’d been girls, now promoted to adulthood because of a royal birthday) in the dark alcove behind the Council Chamber. “Am I late?” she whispered to Miri and Chastet.
    “Yes. But so is the king,” Miri giggled softly, eye pressed to the tiny peephole.
    “Listen,” Chastet ordered.
    All three girls grew silent, straining their ears toward the thin wooden wall between them and the very private chamber on the other side.
    “Your Grace, we of the Council of Provinces insist that your oldest daughter marry without delay and beget a son and heir to the kingdom,” Lord Andrall said in his weary voice. “Unlike the dragons who grace you, you are
not
immortal.”
    Rosselinda, Princess Royale of Coronnan choked on her quick inhale.
    “Easy, Highness.” Lady Miri, daughter to Lord Bennallt of the incredibly wealthy port city of Baria, pounded Linda’s back with enthusiasm.
    “Hush, they’ll hear us,” Lady Chastet admonished them both as she pressed her ear closer to the secret panel. Her father, Floodhenst, held the western province of Fleece, large and open and home to more sheep than people.
    “How did my P’pa take that?” Linda asked, trying to peer over Miri’s shoulder and through the tiny spyhole. All she caught was a pinprick of colored light from the sun glowing through the stained-glass windows of the chamber. So much lovely and precious glass wasted on dusty old men who had nothing better to do than sit around and argue.
    “My lords, do I need to remind you that Princess Rosselinda is only fourteen,” King Darville ground through his teeth.
    Old enough to have ladies-in-waiting and to put up my hair with jeweled combs,
Linda thought.
But marriage?
    Yuck. All the boys she knew at court were pimple-faced, smelly creatures who thought only about their steeds and arms practice. She could outride and trounce most of them quite soundly in sword practice. The older courtiers were just that. Old. Almost as dusty as their even-older fathers who pushed for a marriage.
    Ah, that was it: each of the nobles wanted his own son to become Linda’s husband so he could rule through her.
    But P’pa was still young and healthy, hardly a gray hair peeked through his blond queue. He’d rule a long time before he passed the Dragon Crown to an heir.
    Unless . . .
    Linda choked again.
    “Let me see!” She pushed Miri aside, making Chastet take two steps back, and took possession of the spyhole. Now she could see the Council Chamber in its full glory.
    Early spring sunlight glinted through the costly stained glass windows. Brilliant patches of red, green, gold, and blue sparkled against the polished black glass tabletop, making it look as if it glowed from within. All of the lords sat well back from the table, as if afraid the light might infect them with magic. Or draw them too close to their king. Their very angry king.
    Linda knew from the set of his shoulders how stiffly he held himself. Rigid control. He’d drilled that into her often enough. A monarch
never
had the luxury of losing his, or her, temper.
    But why couldn’t she see the Coraurlia above and the high back of his demi-throne? Sitting so straight and stiff, she should be able to see almost the entire circle of precious glass.
    Ah, it sat on the table by his right hand. Unusual, but understandable. She’d lifted the crown once last year and knew it weighed more than a bolt of thick brocade.
    The fact that he’d touched none of the beta arrack, a very strong liquor from her mother’s homeland, in the golden goblet by his right hand told her more. He