Page 49 of Pippa of Lauramore
I’m about to argue, but he cuts me off. “Would you do me a favor?”
His quiet request makes me lean forward. “Of course.”
“Wait to announce me as your chosen until the end. Itwill be all the sweeter if it sweeps the victory away from Lionel at the last moment.”
I smirk in approval.
Lionel takes his seat at one of the lower tables, and the look he sends our way is hostile at best. Galinor notices and raises his eyebrows. “I see why you have no affection for him.”
The tables are almost full now, and servants bring around large pitchers of soup. I breathe in the wonderful fragrance and sigh in ecstasy.
“It’s beef!” I exclaim, and I bring the handled bowl to my lips.
Galinor gives me a curious look.
I wonder what it will be like to eat beef often when I’m his bride. I sigh, satisfied, after my small sip of broth. I must remind myself to take it slowly. I don’t want to look like a glutton in front of my future husband.
Soon, large baskets are passed with every imaginable type of bread in them—rolls brushed with herbs and butter, some kind of dark, sweet loaves, crispy flatbreads, and sugary fruit scones. Instead of trying them all, as I would like to do, I choose one small roll.
Galinor takes five. Five! I stare at them greedily but say nothing.
I glance around the room, trying to remember faces and names. Many I remember. Irving and the man who came with him, who I’ve learned is his uncle Howell, are next to Anna. They seem to be thoroughly charming her. The Triblue princes are seated next to two of the younger ladies of the kingdom, and by the looks of it, they’re enjoying themselves as well. My mother has strategicallyplaced every knight, lord, lady, and visitor, ensuring the evening goes well.
Archer is next to Marigold. Again.
I don’t see Rigel at first. I look around for him and find him at our table, next to Percival. He and my brother are deep in conversation. Leonora finally shows up, but she is looking a little peaked. I wonder if she’s still feeling ill or if Rigel is making her uncomfortable.
The soup course is whisked away, and massive silver platters of grim boar are brought in. They smell delicious. I have no idea how something that reeks when it’s alive can smell so wonderful after it’s cooked.
I savor dinner, but I do hope we don’t linger over it forever. Mother said there will be dancing tonight, and I have no idea how long Father will let me stay. I would like to dance before I’m sent back to my room like a naughty child.
Finally, frozen cream and fruit pastries—a great treat—are brought out in dozens and dozens of little dishes. I accept mine eagerly. About to dive in, I catch myself and wait until we are all served.
“What is this?” Galinor asks as he prods the frozen cream.
“It’s milk that’s been cooked with eggs and sugar and then frozen. It’s uncommon in the summer. Someone from the kitchen must have ventured into the high mountains for ice.”
“Sheep milk?” He looks a little hesitant.
I laugh. “Of course.”
The cream melts in my mouth. It’s smooth and silky and truly wonderful. I peer down the table and see thatLeonora looks as blissful as I’ve seen her in days. She sighs in my direction and smiles.
When dinner is finally finished, the tables are efficiently swept to the sides of the room. Plates are whisked away, and baskets and platters of leftover food are arranged for hungry guests to nibble through the night. A quartet of players set up on the corner stage.
“Dance with me,” I say to Galinor, grinning.
His eyes go wide, and he looks nervous. “I don’t dance.”
“What do you mean?” I shake my head, baffled.
He clears his throat. “I don’t dance well.”
“You have no choice.” I grin at him. “You won the scavenger hunt—you take the first dance with the princess. Don’t worry. Others will join us.”
I pull him to the middle of the great hall. I’m sure he’s better than he says. He’s a prince after all—they are instructed in dancing. It’s a necessity.
We begin, and after the third or fourth time he’s stepped on my foot, I realize he wasn’t exaggerating at all.
