Page 52 of Dragon King’s Duty Bride

He gripped the bucket of feed and stepped through the gate that Luna held for him with cautious dignity. Sage approached him and sniffed his hand.

Lucas patted her head. “I think she likes me. This is a piece of cake.”

Sage rubbed her head against his hand before she promptly pulled back and headbutted his thigh. Hard.

“Owww.” Lucas staggered backward and nearly dropped the bucket. Before he could recover, Jack charged the bucket and feed flew every which way.

The girls dissolved into giggles.

“The goats,” he informed Sia gravely, “have no respect for royalty.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet. That big one over there, under the enclosure? The one watching you with insanity in his eyes? His name is Whiskey,” she said sweetly. “He has no respect for anyone or anything.”

Hearing his name, Whiskey trotted over and attempted to chew the hem of Lucas’s shirt before he promptly knocked the bucket out of his hand.

Lucas stared down at it before he bent to pick it up. “This feels like a coordinated rebellion.”

When Whiskey backed up a few feet, Sia called out a warning. “Watch out. He’s about to charge you and it’s gonna hurt.”

Lucas dropped the bucket as he found the goat aimed at him. He grabbed Whiskey’s horns to stop him and found himself in a battle with the animal. The two kids decided to join in to help their father, and Lucas was soon hopping over the little goats while maintaining his hold on Whiskey

Sia laughed, really laughed, until tears ran down her face. He looked up at her then. Not annoyed or insulted by the situation, but with a smile. By then, everyone was laughing at a king who was failing miserably at controlling the kingdom.

Something warm unfurled inside her chest.

Sia’s father finally rescued Lucas, who swore to the girls that they would never have the beasts at the castle, no matter how cute the babies were.

Later, her parents announced they were taking the girls the following morning on a day trip to a farmer’s market in the neighboring village before they returned to the castle, but it would be too much walking for Sia. Lucas volunteered to remain behind.

She felt a flicker of nerves since that would leave them alone. With Lucas, in this small house filled with old memories and newfound happiness.

The silence that settled after her father’s car disappeared down the road was different from the silence at the castle.

Except here, away from all things royal, it wasn’t oppressive. It was curious and anticipatory.

“Well,” Lucas said with a glance toward the trees. “Shall we avoid further farm animal uprisings?”

She arched her brow. “I was thinking of the clearing. Maybe a quick art lesson for you.”

His mouth curved. “How about just the back yard? My ego can’t take another hit.”

“Agreed.” The meadow felt like old memories, so maybe it was time to make new ones.

She set up her canvas and he lingered nearby with his hands clasped behind his back like a soldier awaiting orders. She recognized the posture.

“You look like you’re going in front of the council again,” she observed.

“I am accustomed to weapons,” he replied. “Not brushes.”

She held one out to him anyway.

“Paint something.”

“What do you think I can paint?”

“Anything.”

He studied the palette as though it were a tactical map. She moved closer to guide his hand and gave a quick explanation about color blending and brush pressure.