Page 71 of Anwen of Primewood
I search his eyes, which are as dark and hesitant as my own thoughts. “Maybe you should stop thinking first.”
His eyes drop to my lips, and my heart all but stops.
Suddenly, the door swings open, and Irving strides in. Galinor and I jump apart. I can tell from Irving’s expression that we look as guilty as I feel.
Irving scrutinizes Galinor. It’s the same look he gave Teagan when the prince was speaking with Marigold. Finally, he says testily, “Anwen, your glasseln just ate our breakfast.”
“What?”
“I walked away from the fire for a moment. When I came back, she’d swiped the two rabbits I trapped.”
“I suppose she was hungry?”
“Tell her to catch her own food.”
What is it they think I can do with these animals, exactly?
I sit back. “It’s not like I can strike up a conversation with her.”
Irving glares at me…and then he glares at Galinor. Once he tires of that, he glares at Rosie.
He then turns on his heel and leaves the cart, nearly slamming the door behind him.
The moment is broken, and Galinor stands. “I better appease him and hunt something for breakfast.”
I nod, rolling my shoulders.
He glances at Rosie, who’s either still asleep or wisely pretending to be. “This is going to be a long journey to Triblue if those two don’t make up soon.”
Chapter 14
Adead stag lands in front my feet, its blood seeping into the earth where it falls. I stare at the creature, so horrified, I’m not sure what to do.
Pika watches me with expectant eyes, and then she lowers her head and nudges the deer toward me with her nose.
“Good girl,” I murmur, realizing she’s simply a stable cat offering a mouse to her keeper.
Only Pika’s mouse is much, much larger.
This morning, Irving yelled at her and hurt her feelings when she once again swiped his kill from the fire—this time a trio of grouse. Apparently, she is trying to redeem herself.
The last few weeks seem to have passed quickly, and no one is nervous around Pika anymore. Even Marigold will absently scratch the glasseln’s head.
“It’s about time she makes herself useful,” Irving grumbles as he begins to quarter the animal.
He tosses Pika the entrails, and I have to look away so I won’t be ill.
Bran joins me by the fire. “Tomorrow we’ll be in Triblue—it will be good to be home.”
I’m happy for the distraction from Irving and the stag, and I scoot further down the log I’m perched on, making room for him to sit.
The stars shine brightly in the sky, and the evening air is warm. It feels like mid-summer again, even if the first day of autumn is only a few days away.
“How long have you been gone?” I ask, stretching my leg in front of me.
It still aches, but after the time it’s taken to travel this far, it’s healed enough I don’t have to be careful with it anymore.
In the fire, a log splits and sends a cascade of sparks into the sky. The noise wakes Danver, and the little fox yawns. He joins Irving, sniffing the deer, and Irving shoos him away.
