Page 55 of Pippa of Lauramore
Galinor, who has been silent, nods and comes forwardto take aim. Archer stands with his back to us, aiming toward the empty arena entrance.
It seems as though the arrow has only left Galinor’s bow when it falls to the ground, nowhere near the target. Archer turns and faces the dumbstruck men near him. Even Galinor looks a little shaken.
“Prince Irving, you will go first.” He takes Galinor’s place.
Irving misses. Mador misses. Galinor misses. They all miss, and there are no second chances.
My father stands up. “Prince Irving is our winner, with three points!”
The crowd is on their feet, yelling praises to the prince of Primewood.
Galinor still leads the tournament with seven points, but Irving, at six points, has passed Lionel to claim a temporary second. I feel lighter than I did yesterday. The farther back Lionel is, the better. Rigel is way behind with only the two points he earned in the scavenger hunt. He no longer seems to be an immediate threat.
Now I just have to make it through Irving’s feast without him convincing me to run away to tropical locations with him.
CHAPTER 13
“He did not!” I exclaim at a whisper.
Irving shrugs and helps himself to another portion of roasted boar.
I shake my head. “Lionel bought the pearl?”
“That’s the rumor.”
Since Irving’s gorging himself tonight, I figure I might as well do the same. I reach for another scone and slather butter over its sugary, golden crust. I bite into it and moan in appreciation.
Irving raises his eyebrows.
“Have you tried one?” I ask, covering my mouth with my hand because I haven’t completely swallowed.
My mother will die on the spot if she sees me.
Irving doesn’t answer, his mouth too full of grim boar, but he does reach for a scone. After he finishes, he says, “There is another interesting rumor floating around.” He wags his eyebrows for emphasis.
“Go on,” I encourage him.
He leans forward as if what he is going to say is a bigsecret and whispers, “There are tales that your master archer is smitten.”
The large bite of pastry I just took suddenly feels dry and crumbly in my throat. I work to swallow it. Irving is watching me with hawkish eyes, and I haven’t answered soon enough.
“Is it true his mother was from Errinton, and that his grandfather is a lord?” he asks.
I nod and finally swallow the bite. “Archer doesn’t like to speak of his family, and I don’t wish to upset him.”
“I only want to make sure he’s suitable for our Marigold.”
I’m just taking a drink of cider to wash down the last of the scone, and I choke at his words.
“I don’t want to speak of Archer,” I say, and I’m afraid my voice sounds a little testy.
Fortunately, we don’t have to speak of him, because Bran and Dristan come to the table. Most people have wandered away, and seats are open for the brothers. Rigel is with them.
My shoulders tense. This man makes me nervous.
They offer their greetings, and then Bran asks, “What can you tell us about the next event, Princess?”
The dragon hunt.
