Page 50 of Pippa of Lauramore
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles.
“It’s all right,” I assure him. “I believe this song is almost over.”
It doesn’t matter if Galinor can dance. I like to dance—but not everyone does. I’m feeling vaguely disappointed, but I’m being selfish. Dancing isn’t important.
The song ends, and he escorts me back to the side of the room. He looks glad to be safely away. Another song begins, and I accidentally turn into Lionel, who has come up behind me. He holds out his hand, and I have no choice but to take it.
Galinor grimaces, and I can tell he’s sorry.
Lionel leads me into the dancing. He’s good. Cold—but good. “You haven’t taken my advice, Philippa.”
His use of my full name makes my skin crawl.
I smile at him, trying to look sweet. “What advice was that?”
He wrinkles his sunburned brow and looks as if I should remember. Oh, right.
“Am I still acting like a…how did you put it?” I tap his meaty shoulder. “Oh, yes. An adventure-lusting tavern wench?”
He presses his lips together. “Can’t you behave like a princess? You’re disgraceful. They say you were found in the middle of the night with the archer.” He saysarcherlike it’s a disgusting word.
I narrow my eyes. “If I’m so disgraceful, why don’t you pull out of the tournament and save yourself from certain humiliation?”
“If it weren't for that ring proving you’re still pure, I would think you were a common harlot.”
I’m wondering where the line is between dislike and loathing, but thankfully, the song ends before I can contemplate it further. I march away from him, not bothering to thank him for the dance.
I try to find Galinor in the crowd, but he seems to have vanished. If I stand here too long, who knows who will find me? I grit my teeth when there’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn, relieved to see Percival.
“Dance with me, little sister,” he says, smiling. I can tell from the apologetic look on his face that he saw what happened with Lionel.
I let him lead me. “I can’t stand him, Percival.”
“He’s changed,” he grudgingly admits.
“Why is he even here? He hates everything about me! He called me a harlot,” I add, just to make sure my brother is on the right side.
Percival bristles at the word. “His father wants this union.”
“Why?” I demand. “If the son thinks so ill of me, why would the father want the marriage?”
My brother sighs. “You are very beautiful, Pippa. In Vernow, they collect beautiful things. They are rich and powerful. They see you as a pretty accessory to adorn their castle.”
I have suspected as much, but hearing it aloud—and from my brother, no less—makes me feel squirmy. “Does Father know this?”
“He does, to a point. He sees Vernow’s riches, and he truly thinks you will be happy there. There is so much to do—theater, shopping, riding—he believes you’ll find plenty of things that will entertain you.”
“And he thinks I’ll be bored in Glendon?”
Percival nods slowly. “There is not much to be gained from a match with Glendon. Don’t despair, though. He was very impressed with your Galinor’s performance in the scavenger hunt.”
I feel vaguely melancholy when our dance ends. I spot Galinor across the room. He has found Archer, and the two of them speak with Lady Marigold.
Archer must like her. He’s been with her all evening.
I’m not alone for more than a few moments before there is another tap on my shoulder. My heart is weary,and I’m not sure I feel like another dance. I turn, thinking I’ll decline, then I see Irving’s handsome face.
“No, you don’t, Princess.” He pulls me to the center of the hall.
