Page 52 of Pippa of Lauramore
He excuses himself from Marigold and strides to me. “How are you?”
“Fine,” I say, bobbing on my toes.
He glances around and then looks back at me. “Do you think I’m allowed to dance with you?”
I hold my hand out in answer. I don’t know if we’re allowed to dance, but I do know we had better hurry and do it before someone comes to stop us. Once we’re on the floor, Father won’t make a scene.
Archer’s hand is warm on my waist, and it reminds me of our night ride. He leads me across the hall, and I search for something to say. I should keep the conversation light, but I can only think of our shared moment in the cottage. We haven’t discussed it. I’m not sure he even remembers. He seemed lucid enough, but with a fever, it’s hard to tell.
“Did you find yourself in any trouble?” I ask, relieved to find a safe topic.
Archer laughs. “No. King Ewan thanked me for keeping you safe.”
Silence settles between us like a thick blanket. It’s almost suffocating. I’ve never felt this way around Archer.
My eyes wander, and I smile when I glance at Galinor and see that he has rescued Lady Marigold from loneliness. He is kind.
“Thank you, by the way,” I say finally, realizing I haven’t acknowledged his help with the scavenger hunt. I add, my voice a whisper in the loud hall, “How did you know it was a sheep?”
“Just a hunch.”
“I thought I was going to die on the spot when Galinor came dragging it into the arena.”
Archer smiles, creating little creases around his eyes.
“Your eyes change depending on what you wear,” I say. Although I was thinking it, I’m not sure why I said it out loud.
He gives me a funny look. “What do you mean they change?”
“Sometimes they’re green. Sometimes they’re blue. Sometimes they’re a little of both.”
“What are they tonight?” he asks, and his voice is soft.
“A little bit of both.”
He watches me so intently my breath catches in my throat. “Your eyes are always the same. The exact color of the sky immediately after sunrise—bright, light blue.”
I look away, unable to bear how intimate our conversation has become. When I do, I meet Rigel’s gaze. He’s scrutinizing us, and for a terror-filled second, I believe he can see right into my heart. He narrows his eyes and turns away.
CHAPTER 12
She is very kind, and I do not hate her.
I keep repeating this over and over in my head, hoping it will sink in eventually.
I’m noticing little things about Lady Marigold I didn’t notice when I first met her. At first, I saw she had pretty eyes, but only now do I see she has long dark eyelashes too. Her hair, which looked mousy and plain the way she had it severely pulled back that first day, is shining and full as it falls past her shoulders. The maids have braided the front strands to make a crown around her face, and the effect is charming. This irks me.
But she is very kind, and I do not hate her.
“Pippa, you’re quiet today,” Marigold says, touching my shoulder.
Leonora laughs and responds before I can answer. “She’s very serious about archery.”
“I would be serious as well, if I had an instructor who looked like that.” Marigold motions to Archer, and then she blushes.
I cringe, but I don’t think either Leonora or Marigold notice.
Archer is speaking with the competitors, giving them instructions for the archery tournament. This tournament is on a much grander scale than the village competition, and he takes it very seriously.
