Page 92 of Pippa of Lauramore
Now, I’m not so sure. I tossed and turned all night. I’m achy, and I can’t eat. I can’t even breathe.
Finally, the first rays of morning travel over the valley. The cool shades of early dawn are swept away by yellows and greens and reds. The fire has dwindled down to nothing. I can’t stay any longer. Soon, if they aren’t already, villagers will be going about their daily business. I must leave before someone notices my gown at the water’s edge.
I follow the tunnels back to the waterfall and slip into the pool. Once again, the icy water takes my breath away. Careful to keep my head low, I swim to the rocky ledge. My fabric shift clings to my body as I rise from the water, and I pull it away from my skin, hoping to look decent in case someone were to glance down. Later in the day, mothers will bring their children to play by the water, but right now, with the village just rising, I think I’m safe.
As I reach for the blanket to dry with, someone clears their throat. “This is indecent, Philippa—even for you.”
I whip around to face Lionel. He’s seated by the pool’s edge, and he appears to have been here for a while.
He followed me here.
I hold the blanket in front of myself and shiver. Water drips from my hair down to my toes, and it pools at my feet.
His expression is unlike it’s ever been before. Cold, distant, and proud—yes, always—but he’s never looked at me like this.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice wavering.
He rises from the ground, his hulking body looking awkward as it strains to stand. He grins as he narrows his eyes. Suddenly, I know how Marigold felt at the cave. I’m frozen to the spot; I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
“I know about you and thearcher.” He spits the last word out.
I suck in a breath. He might be bluffing. How would he know? Unless Rigel or Irving told him…or if he followed me the night I stole away to Archer’s room. I thought he’d gone to bed, but what if he hadn’t?
“What archer?” I demand.
Lionel chuckles, and as he comes forward, I step back. There’s nowhere to go, and I meet the rock wall behind me. He runs a finger down my cheek, pulling a strand of wet hair away from my face. I want to cower away from him, but instead, I raise my head higher, tilting my chin in the air.
“Not what archer—Archer.”
“There is nothing to know.”
He raises an eyebrow, and his lopsided forehead looks even more askew with the gesture. “There are whispers, Philippa. The servants, the maids, the guards—they’ve all seen you together. I’ve seen you together.”
He’s lying.
“I wonder what the punishment is for attempting to seduce a princess?” he continues, shifting his weight to one meaty leg. His pleasant voice is at odds with his wild eyes. “Especially a princess who’s already promised herself to the tournament?”
Lionel makes it sound calculating, like Archer planned what has happened between us to sabotage the tournamentand bring war to the kingdom. I already know what would happen if I ran away with Archer—it’s the only reason I’m still here.
“Attempting to seduce a princess?” I force a laugh. “You think you can have someone hanged for an attempted seduction? An unsuccessful one at that.”
I flash him my ring.
“Enough people have seen you together. One stolen moment—one kiss, one embrace—is all it will take to have him hanged for treason against the crown. I only need one witness besides myself. Are you so confident I won’t find one?”
I stay silent.
He smiles. “Then you will do exactly as I say.”
I findGalinor and Archer speaking with Irving and Bran in Galinor’s tent just an hour before I am supposed to meet Archer at the back gate. I sweep in, Marigold and Leonora on my heels.
Irving is sitting in the corner, and he stops speaking mid-sentence and raises an eyebrow. “That was a beautifully dramatic entrance, Princess.”
I ignore him. “Lionel is demanding I announce him as my chosen.”
The girls gasp, not having been told what we were here for. The men, who I assume will rise with fury, exchange glances, and then they laugh.
Theylaugh.
