Page 90 of Pippa of Lauramore
If nothing else, we agree on that.
“Come on.” He rises to his feet and holds his hand out to me. “Come enjoy the festival with me. Tonight, you will have to sit next to Lionel. It’s best to have some fun while you can.”
I’d almost forgotten about the feast and my place at it. We’ll sit at the head table, Lionel in the middle and me at his side like his queen. It’s going to be unbearable.
I take Galinor’s hand, letting him pull me up.
“Tell me, Princess, there’s a fantastic story circling. Did you truly take on a glasseln with a stick?”
“Philippa,you could at least pretend you’re enjoying yourself.” Lionel raises a goblet to his lips and stares at me.
I offer him a forced smile. His face doesn’t move, but he sneers at me with his eyes. I look away, pretending indifference. My gaze lands on Archer. He’s been careful to stay away, and it’s killing me. I haven’t spoken with him all day.
I’m tired of being careful.
Dancing has begun, but Lionel has not asked me. I’mthankful for that. I rise from my seat but am stilled by Lionel’s hand on my wrist. “Where are you going?”
Flashbacks of my hallucinations from the cave flash in my memory, filling me with a fear that is out of proportion to the situation. I yank my hand away. Without a word of explanation, I leave him.
“Dance with me after this song,” I whisper to Archer’s back as I pass him.
He doesn’t miss a beat in his conversation, but I know he’s heard me. I find Galinor speaking with Percival.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Lionel grabs me from behind. “The dragon hunt was my victory—you will dance with me and only me.”
Galinor steps forward, pulling me from Lionel’s grasp. He positions himself in front of me. It’s an impressive thing, the two of them facing off. The crowd draws back from them, noticing the anger in their expressions.
“The princess will dance with whomever she chooses.”
Lionel’s nostrils flare. It’s not pleasant.
“Enough.” Percival steps between them, pressing his palms against their chests and pushing them apart. He turns to me. “Pippa, Lionel is this event’s victor. You will dance with him first, and then you are free to dance with Galinor.”
I know he’s being diplomatic, but I hate him for this decision. I don’t want to dance with Lionel. The thought of his hands on me makes me ill. Lionel turns to me, and his hateful eyes shine with this small triumph. He puts his hand on my waist, pulling me much closer than I would like. I tilt my chin away, refusing to look at him.
His hand tightens on my waist. “Look at me.”
“You’re hurting me.” I try to squirm out of his grip.
He shakes me once, hard, and my eyes dart around the room to see if anyone noticed. Father speaks with Sir Kimble, and Percival is trying to calm Galinor—who looks livid. Archer is dutifully ignoring me.
“They can’t save you when we’re married. I will not lose. You are, and have always been, mine.” His hand crushes against my skin, and I’m afraid I’ll be bruised in the morning. I hate myself for it, but I begin to tremble—though I’m not sure if it’s because I’m scared or furious.
He smiles.
The song ends, and I rip myself away from his grasp. He bows low, mocking me with his eyes, and disappears into the crowd.
I turn around, and Archer is waiting for me. I step into his arms, and I’m still shaking.
“Pippa?” Archer says, his voice hard. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I lie.
It doesn’t seem like he believes me, but I don’t care. I’m not wasting this time dwelling on Lionel. Even though we’re in a hall with over a hundred other people who would never let us be together, right now, he’s mine.
In no hurry, we slowly spin. We keep our distance—keep it light for the casual observers.
“Meet me by the back gate at noon tomorrow,” he whispers.
