The Broken Dragon: Children of the Dragon Nimbus #2 Read Online Free PDF

interrupting Glenndon’s sad and looping thoughts.
    “Hadn’t thought about it.” He urged Mikk out of the round Council Chamber. “Whatever someone lays out for me.” He hated maintaining a fashionable wardrobe. What was wrong with his homespun, forest-colored, but serviceable tunic and trews as long as they were clean? He grabbed his staff from where it stood leaning against the wall beside the huge stained-glass window and stumped toward the door with three scrolls beneath his arm.
    As they emerged from the chamber into the wide receiving room with King Darville’s and Queen Rossemikka’s thrones on a dais to their right, Glenndon came to a stumbling halt. Across the polished tiles, gathered into a huddle like a gabble of flusterhens, six teenage girls awaited them. Lady Miri, Princess Rosselinda’s former lady-in-waiting and now attendant upon the queen and the two younger princesses, raised her head and engaged his eyes with a winsome smile.
    “Stargods protect me,” he whispered, pounding the staff lightly against the floor.
    “What’s wrong?” Mikk asked, sidling slightly behind Glenndon. He had no weapon other than a ceremonial short sword—next to useless—and his penknife.
    “Girls. Always hanging on me as if I alone stand between them and a long and painful death,” Glenndon grunted.
    “Oh, the girls. They aren’t so bad. You just have to get them talking and pretend to listen. Actually, they know more about the goings-on at court than anyone else. I’ve learned many interesting things from them.”
    “That’s because they see you as a friend. I’m prize meat in the marriage market at the moment because I’m the heir. All they talk to me about is how their pretty lace, imported at great cost from SeLennica, enhances their bodice. An open invitation to stare at their cleavage.”
    “You don’t find that enticing?” Mikk blinked rapidly in dismay.
    “Of course I do. But I’ll never get to act on it. As long as I stay in the capital, I can expect nothing less than an arranged marriage to a foreign princess.”
    “Ah, but if any these girls can bear a royal bastard before your marriage, it enhances your reputation as a virile mate and gains her family much influence with the royal family. I, on the other hand, will have something to say on the choice of my bride when the time comes.”
    “I won’t do what my father did—beget a bastard and ignore him until he needed me.”
    Glenndon looked around and rapidly noticed each and every person in the room or stationed at doorways. Frank, his bodyguard, wearing the green and gold uniform of a trusted royal attendant, peered out from behind an elaborate tapestry hanging behind the throne. He beckoned. Glenndon grabbed Mikk by the elbow and judiciously retreated through the private family passage before the girls could follow him. “Swordplay. I need to bash some heads to get the sight of all those heaving bosoms out of my mind.”
    “Today you ride instead,” General Marcelle said, appearing out of nowhere and grabbing each young man by the elbow.
    Glenndon groaned. Mikk sagged as if his thighs already ached and chafed from contact with a saddle.
    “You just said, Master Mikk, that a prince must appear princely on a magnificent steed. As of yet neither of you looks anything but miserable astride an embarrassed steed, even a dainty palfrey the young princesses feel at home with.” The general propelled them toward Frank’s hiding place. The bodyguard held the hidden door ajar for them.
    “Maybe if we started with dainty palfreys and worked our way up to magnificent stallions . . . ?” Mikk asked hopefully.
    “His Grace the king told me not to coddle either of you. You have a lot to learn, in a hurry. Best we start where we hope to end up.”
    Mikk rolled his eyes, and Glenndon firmed his posture. Learning to speak after a lifetime of silence was easier than mastering the steeds General Marcelle considered docile.

    “Lukan, where