Page 103 of Pippa of Lauramore
Someone clears their throat from the door, and, startled, we pull apart. Leonora looks embarrassed, but there is something else in her expression, too.
“What’s wrong?”
Her eyes drop from mine, taking a tour of the room before they return. I can see her weighing her words before she finally answers, “Lionel has told me you have fifteen minutes to make the announcement—or he’ll make his.”
“Let him make it,” Archer snarls. He takes my hand to show he’s serious.
I shake my head. “No. He can’t. You’ve seen what he did to Galinor. I can’t let anything happen to you.”
Archer pulls me to him. “Pippa, no.”
“There you are, saying it again,” I murmur, my voice soft. I try to smile as I pull away. “I have to.”
“No. You don’t.” He shakes his head, and my fingers fall from his.
“Yes, I do.”
If I thoughtArcher would let me make a martyr of myself in peace, I was wrong. He followed me the entire way to the hall, arguing with me.
Only now that I’m here, surrounded by people, he’s forced to back off. I make my way to my parent’s table, glaring at Lionel when I see his smug face. One meaty arm is crossed over his chest, and the other holds a half-eaten turkey drumstick. He’s leaning back in his chair, two feet off the floor.
I would love to knock that chair out from under him.
“I’m going to announce my chosen,” I say to Father when he notices I’m before him.
He gives me a knowing smile. I’m sure he assumes I will declare it to be Galinor. After all, isn’t that who I’ve spent the entire evening with? He stands up, and all eyes are on him. “My daughter has an announcement she wishes to make.”
I cringe.
“Ah, yes. Hello, all,” I say, feeling myself flush when all our guests’ eyes turn on me. One of those sets of eyes looks as if they’re about to interfere, so I gulp and cut to the chase before Archer can do something foolish. “I would like to announce Lionel as my chosen.”
There are numerous gasps, which are followed by silence.
I give a small curtsy. “Thank you, and…enjoy your meal.”
Someone finally claps, and it’s followed by asmattering of applause. Lionel looks somewhat less than impressed. What did he expect?
I’m about to flee when Father’s voice commands me to stop. He points to the empty seat next to him, raising his eyebrows. I glance down the table, looking for help. Mother appears to be too stunned to offer assistance, and Sir Kimble looks just as baffled. He shoots Lionel an accusing glance.
I plunk down in the seat next to Father. To my horror, Lionel stands, raising his goblet as if he’s going to make a toast. He gives me a smile which looks more like a sickly toad-like grin, and then his eyes scan the crowd as if he’s looking for someone. My eyes follow his, and I grow cold. He’s looking directly at Archer.
“No,” I whisper, clutching the napkin in front of me.
“There you have it, Archer,” Lionel calls out. “She chose me. Did you really believe you could successfully woo a princess? What did you think? That she’d fall in love with you? Run off with you and give everything up—like your mother did for your father? But that didn’t end so well, did it?”
Archer says nothing. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, his expression blank. My world spins, and I accidentally knock over the goblet of cider in front of me. The cold liquid runs down the table and spills onto my dress, but I barely notice.
Father looks dumbfounded. “What is he talking about?”
My mouth moves, but I find no words.
“King Ewan, what is the punishment for entering into a romantic relationship with a princess promised to thetournament?” Lionel asks as if he doesn’t already know. The room is so quiet it’s eerie. I don’t dare breathe.
“Death,” Father says, and even as he pulls himself up tall, his shoulders droop.
Percival stands. “What are you accusing?”
Lionel looks at my brother, his eyes bright. “I’m accusing Archer of attempting to seduce Princess Phillipa.”
