Page 57 of Pippa of Lauramore
I lower my bow and glance over my shoulder. He’sbeen sparring with my brothers again, and there’s a slick sheen of sweat across his brow. This should be in no way appealing, but oddly enough, it is.
He’s rolled his tunic sleeves up to his elbows. The leather lacing at his chest has come partially untied, showing off a deep triangle of tanned skin.
He raises a dark eyebrow, as if he knows what I’m thinking. I flush and retrieve my arrow from the target. I yank it, but it’s stuck. Galinor reaches around me and pulls the arrow free. I turn, ready to thank him, when I realize how close we are.
Without thinking, I glance at Archer. It’s Marigold I notice. Her gaze flickers to the ground, embarrassed, and then she looks back to her target. Archer doesn’t notice his pupil’s distraction, and he continues to instruct her on how to stand.
Galinor follows my eyes. “It’s kind of him to teach her. I think she would be less timid if she had a way to defend herself.” His voice is quiet so Marigold won’t overhear us, and his tone is kind.
I nod, slowly. “She is timid, isn’t she?”
“It’s understandable with everything that has happened to her.”
I wrinkle my nose, trying to rememberwhatexactly happened. Her family died in the Dragon War, and that’s all I know.
Galinor continues, “I spoke with her last night. She is very grateful to be included in the celebration. It’s kind of you to bring her in your lessons as well.”
Surely, I should be jealous that my chosen spent timewith Marigold at the feast after I was made to leave, but instead, I’m relieved she was with Galinor instead of Archer.
That’s a problem, I believe.
I also feel a twinge of guilt. I didn’t include her; Leonora did. Galinor is so proud of me, and I don’t want to admit that. I haven’t been kind to Marigold at all. In fact, I’ve been ignoring her.
I don’t like this person I’m becoming. I’ve been jealous and calculating. Maybe Alexander is right—I need to leave it alone. Not just my feelings—whatever they may be—for Archer, but my meddling in the tournament as well.
“You look lost in thought,” Galinor says, a soft smile on his perfect lips.
“Have you ever wanted something you shouldn’t—couldn’t—have?”
My hair is falling from its braid. He winds a golden strand around his finger until the gold is completely covered by dark red. He looks up, his face serious. “I want you.”
I feel myself blush, and a smile comes unbidden to my face. “But you can have me. That’s the whole point of the tournament.”
“I don’t think I should. I won’t lie—you terrify me, Pippa.”
I take a deep breath. “Then why do you fight for me?”
He leans close to my ear. “Because I can’t help myself.”
A giggle escapes, and I have to bite my lip. I could be happy with Galinor, I really could.
My gaze wanders to Archer. His jaw is hard, and there’s fire in his eyes. He pretends not to notice us, but I saw how he looked away when I glanced up.
Perhaps I could be happy with Galinor, but only if I can forget that look in Archer’s eyes.
CHAPTER 14
The start of the dragon hunt is heralded with the expected amount of fanfare and festivity, but I miss it, of course. It sounded very joyous from my rooms. I have two more days of lessons. Only two more days and I’m free—as free as a princess can be, that is.
Music with Master Draeger goes as well as can be expected, and so does geography with Sir Kimble. Leonora and Lady Marigold tag along, and I suspect Leonora has been charged with keeping an eye on me. I have decided to withdraw my meddling fingers from the tournament, so Leonora’s job is infinitely easier than it would have been a few days ago.
Galinor showed confidence and skill in the archery contest. Perhaps Archer is right. I need to have faith in him and believe he can win on his own.
It’s easier to take this position when Lionel isn’t in the lead.
Leonora and Marigold continue to join me for archery, and by the third day of it, I don’t resent theirpresence quite as much. I try to keep my head clear of Archer. The less one-on-one time shared between us, the better.
“Come early tomorrow, and come alone,”Archer says, his voice quiet in my ear. He taps my elbow. “You’re still dropping your arm.”
