Page 110 of Pippa of Lauramore
I shake my head, feeling lost and angry. “Will I see you again?”
“I don’t know,” he answers as he trails sweet kisses down my jaw. “But know that no matter where you are, I’ll be wishing I were with you.”
How do I go back? How do I walk away from this?
The rain is now a light drizzle, and from the darkness, I hear the first bird of the morning sing from a nearby tree.
“It’s time, Pippa.”
“Wait,” I say, pulling his chin down so he’s looking in my eyes. I take a deep breath. “I love you, Archer.”
He smiles, though his eyes are sad. “I’ve always loved you, Pippa.”
CHAPTER 29
Istare at my reflection in a fountain in the gardens. My gold gown shimmers in the water, the material catching the sun’s rays and radiating their glow back to the world. Mother had the dress specifically made for the promising ceremony. The silk was imported from Ptarma, and it feels feather-light against my skin. The long sleeves hide my bandaged shoulder. As lovely as it is, I can’t help but think I look like a piece of gold from the winner’s purse.
Ginna has intricately braided my hair, and it’s coiled on top of my head with strands of pearls and more gold. Lionel has never liked it down, so Mother told me this was how it was to be worn.
Despite the finery, there are dark circles under my eyes, and my skin looks pale.
I sip from a goblet of cider I’m nursing and move away from the fountain, pretending to study the flowers. There are people everywhere, and they all seem to wantto offer me their congratulations—or condolences, depending on how well they know me.
I’ve seen Lionel only briefly. Since his win, he seems to have little need for me. I’m all right with that.
“Pippa,” Leonora says, her voice soft behind me.
I turn and cringe at the pity in her soft brown eyes. She’s dressed in light lavender, a gown that a seamstress has expertly gathered at the middle to hide her growing belly. I won’t be here when the baby’s born. I’ll be the last to know if I have a niece or a nephew.
“I’ve been called to fetch you,” she says. “The ceremony is about to begin.”
This morning there was plenty of time to decide how I was going to endure the promising ceremony, and I settled on quiet dignity. I follow her through the gardens to the large chapel where she and Percival were wed. I feel sick to think I will be promised to Lionel where that beautiful, happy day took place.
My parents, brothers, and Lionel are waiting for me. Guests have already begun to take their seats, and villagers are milling around outside to watch from the doorways and windows. We skirt around the back to avoid them.
We reach the back entry, but before we go in, Leonora stops me. “Pippa, I’m so sorry.”
I shrug instead of answering because my eyes are beginning to sting. I give her a wide, fake smile. “I’ll pull through.”
Her face crumples, but she nods and darts through the door. I linger for a moment longer and lean against thecarved wooden door frame. The sound of harps and stringed instruments drifts through the halls. I start to feel dizzy, so I take several deep breaths, willing myself to pull it together.
Alexander is waiting for me in a chamber just outside the chapel’s main hall. He looks handsome in his tunic and crown. I seldom see him dressed as the prince he is; he’s always dressed like one of the knights.
“Pippa,” he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“I am.”
Part of me, a large part, knew the tournament only delayed my marriage to Lionel. I feared he would win from the beginning. After today, there is no turning back. In a month, there will be a huge, luxurious wedding in Vernow, and I will be married to their heartless, mirthless ogre prince.
“Let’s get it over with, shall we?” he asks, holding out his arm.
We enter the small room where my parents and Percival wait for me. Percival looks agitated. His eyebrows are drawn low, and his fingers anxiously drum on his crossed arms. Mother twists her gold necklace, twirling the emerald pendant in her long, artist’s fingers.
“Lionel is waiting,” Father says, and I step away from Alexander and go to him. Together, with my family behind me, Father and I step into the main hall. Lionel is at the front. His face is twisted in a smile that’s both smug and arrogant.
I glance into the room and scan the faces staring up at me. Irving is with Marigold. She clings to a crushed handkerchief in her lap. He gives me a tight smile.
My heart leaps with temporary happiness when I see Dristan seated next to Bran. He’ll be all right. But Galinor is standing in the back, close to the door. His expression is as cold as I’ve ever seen it.
