Page 37 of The Cornish Princess
Gwendolyn nodded, and Ely said, “How romantic!”
But it didn’tfeelromantic.
Not in the least.
Once again, the thought of Málik Danann brought a rush of heat into Gwendolyn’s cheeks. How long had he been standing there? How much had he heard and seen?
With some effort, she cast away the memory of his censure, and considered how she might endeavor to make amends to Prince Loc. Lamentably, there was no good reason for her childish behavior, and now she must endeavor to think of a good explanation in order to mitigate the damage she might have caused to their alliance.
Even now, was he telling his father?
And then, would they complain to hers?
Well, she would know soon enough, because doubtless that’s what had waylaid her mother. They were all likely in Konsel, discussing Gwendolyn’s unruly behavior. At any moment, Queen Eseld would come marching into her room with all traces of the morning’s joy vanished from her countenance.
“What will you do?” asked Ely.
“Whatever I must.”
If she was asked to kiss his feet, for the sake of the realm, she would. Gwendolyn squeezed her friend’s hand and said, “I beg you, allow me to make amends, Ely. I cannot do much for Bryn, but I know you really don’t wish to dance. Allow me to take you with me to Loegria.”
Ely’s brows lifted, her eyes brightening, although her objection was incongruous. “We can’t! Your mother—my mother!”
Gwendolyn smiled then. “That wasbefore. Isn’t it you who always endeavors to remind me there is a silver lining in every dark night?”
Elowyn shrugged, and Gwendolyn continued. “Bryn will no longer accompany me, and if you come with me as my maid—something I do not yet have for my own—you might live your life as you please, and perhaps even find a suitor amidst Prince Locrinus’ men.”
Gwendolyn could see the hope alight in her eyes. “Truly?”
Gwendolyn nodded. “Truly. And no matter how upset they might be, why should your parents forsake you? ’Tis no secret you do not wish to dance, and I am owed a lady’s maid of my choosing, which, like my dowry chest, has as yet been denied me. So do not fret,” said Gwendolyn. “I will see to it.”
Ely smiled then and dared to ask, “How did it feel?”
“What?”
“Your first kiss!”
Gwendolyn sat back, her brow furrowing over the question. Because it should have been… titillating. And yet, all she could think of at the moment was that terrible look in Málik’s eyes, and the horrible apprehension she’d felt down deep in her soul.
It was as though… she’d felt… trapped.
“Oh, Gwen! Was it truly so awful?” asked Ely, surprised. How long had they anticipated first kisses—how giddily had they spoken of them?
“No,” said Gwendolyn “It… was… fine.”
Ely blinked. “Fine?”
“Sweet,” Gwendolyn corrected. “Gentle and sweet.”
“Do you look forward to more?”
Gwendolyn furrowed her brow, considering her answer…
No.
She did not.
Though why didn’t she wish to kiss Prince Loc? He was charming, intelligent, gently spoken, and learned, as well. Nothing about him should give anyone pause, except for that uncomfortable moment in the cave.
