Page 104 of Pippa of Lauramore
“You need a witness,” Percival demands, and Lionel chuckles.
“I have more than one.” He smiles, scanning the room. “Someone. Tell King Ewan.”
No one comes forward, and Lionel begins to look rattled. “Prince Irving—you’ve seen them.”
Irving shrugs and glances around the room, taking in his captive audience. “Archer? No. I seemyselfwith the princess.” He grins. “Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to share my vision.”
Nervous laughter fills the hall.
Lionel is turning red now, and his large brow grows sweaty. “This is ridiculous. I know several of you have seen them. I know it!”
Our guests are looking at him as if he’s gone mad, and many are whispering amongst themselves. I hear mention of his ridiculous accusation at the joust earlier. Suddenly I can breathe. I dab the cider from my lap.
Then Rigel stands.
My hand freezes, cider forgotten. I have to stop him—but how?
“King Ewan,” Rigel says. “If no witnesses have come forward, should not the accusation be dropped?”
My mouth falls open.
“Yes,” my father says and then turns to Lionel. “It appears you were mistaken. In my kingdom, I ask you to be more careful.”
Lionel’s fists are clenched tight, but he gives Father a curt nod before he storms out of the great hall. Slowly, chatter fills the air again, but I’m still speechless.
Rigel saved Archer.
My eyes seek him out, and it isn’t long before he looks my way. I touch my hand to my heart, not knowing how to convey my gratitude. He bows his head to me and then turns back to his conversation.
CHAPTER 27
Galinor looks much better this morning. His tan cheeks are flushed pink, and the dark shadows under his eyes are almost gone. Women swoon and giggle as he takes his place in the arena. He graciously acknowledges their cheers. Beside me, Marigold sighs.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
I haven’t been able to sneak away to see him today, but Leonora tells me Archer is ready and waiting in Galinor’s tent. After the competition begins, they will switch places. Percival has forbidden me from visiting Archer. He says it’s too dangerous after the spectacle Lionel made last night.
I’m not sure I care anymore.
Even when I think I do the right thing, everything goes wrong—Galinor gets poisoned, Archer gets accused of treason. Who knows what will happen next?
I barely slept at all last night. I couldn’t get comfortable, and I couldn’t stop thinking. I kept waiting for that blissful moment that comes right before sleep whereeverything is comfortable, warm, and distant. That moment never came. Now a headache is lurking, and I’m feeling sulky.
Trumpets blare. Father will finally begin his speech, and we can get this whole wretched ordeal over with. He stands. “Welcome to the final competition of the tournament!”
The crowd roars, and I resist the urge to cringe at the noise. I sit with a fake smile pasted on my face as Father lists where the competitors stand. Galinor is in first, Lionel in second, Rigel in third, and so on and so forth. Father wishes them all luck, and the competition begins.
In a way, I’m relieved the tournament is almost over. Even if I end up with Lionel, at least there will be no more wondering.
Or hope.
Rigel and Lord Kellerby are the first to compete. Unlike the other competitors in full armor or mail, along with a helmet, Rigel wears only a chain mail shirt over his tunic.
“Is that allowed?” I ask Leonora, speaking of his lack of armor.
She nods. “The rules state the competitors must wear a helmet and mail shirt at the minimum.”
I shrug. If he wishes to forego safety for range of movement, I suppose that’s up to him.
