Page 88 of Pippa of Lauramore
His eyes meet mine—incredulous, shocked. “No…”
The horror story that began with the picnic spills out, and his eyes widen. He pulls me toward him, wrapping his arms securely around me, and gently presses his lips to the top of my head. There are no words, just us.
I’m not going to miss this moment, not this time. I tip my head up and look into his face. “Archer, I love?—”
The door flies open, bumping into my back.
“Come on, Pippa,” Alexander says, his voice low. “The hall is clear, and you’ve been in here long enough.”
Archer nods to my brother, and to his credit, he doesn’t look one bit guilty.
“Archer,” Alexander says in lieu of a greeting, pursing his lips to show us he’s not impressed.
I turn back to Archer, helpless. I can’t say it in front of my brother. He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the sides. He knows.
That will have to be enough.
“Be strong, Pippa,”Alexander says.
I don’t want to be strong. I want to curl up on my bed and cry for the rest of forever. I’m still mad, though I know what my brother actually did. He covered for me.
Of course, he doesn’t trust me to go to my room, so he’s escorting me there now.
“This may surprise you, but I can find my quarters.”
He snorts. “Do you know what Father would have done if he’d caught you in the knights’ hall?”
Of course, I know.
“He’d have demanded to see my ring,” I answer, my voice sulky.
As if just remembering my ring, Alexander steals a glance. I slap his shoulder, but I use the wrong arm so my wound protests. It hurts so badly; I nearly curse.
“What am I supposed to think you were doing in his room in the middle of the night?” He looks uncomfortable.
“We were talking.”
“Mmmhmmm.”
“I have to tell Galinor.”
He looks down, and his eyebrows knit together. “You don’t have to, Pippa. You wouldn’t be the first princess to fall in love with the wrong person. It doesn’t matter, anyway. You can’t marry Archer.”
Not for the first time today, I wish I hadn’t asked for the tournament.
CHAPTER 22
This is the first tournament breakfast I’ve been allowed to join with all the competitors attending. Instead of looking forward to it, I walk in filled with dread. I don’t want to tell Galinor, but I must.
My anxiety is temporarily forgotten when I see Irving has joined us this morning, but my mood falls a little when I realize Dristan is still absent. How these families must hate me for maiming their sons. Father agreed to the tournament because it brings kingdoms together.
I don’t see how.
I choose a seat next to Marigold, who looks much brighter now that Irving is up. He’s still bandaged and bruised, but this is an improvement. He wraps his arm around his sister, and his eyes are full of fire. Someone must have broken the news of the kidnapping to him. We kept it from him, thinking it best if we didn’t worry him while he was healing.
“I’m fine, Irving,” Marigold says.
I wish Yuven had something to wipe the nightmaresfrom her mind. What would it be like to live with those memories?
