Page 46 of Anwen of Primewood
I must fall asleep, because I am startled awake when the queen calls, “Lady Anwen?”
Oh, no.
I jerk up, try to smooth my hair down, and unwrap from my lovely cocoon. Since I have nothing dry to wear, I only peek my head out the door.
“I’m afraid I fell asleep,” I apologize.
The queen smiles at me from the hall. “Of course you did. You must be exhausted from riding all day in this weather.” She raises an eyebrow, looking at the door. “May I come in?”
The tips of my ears burn. “Everything I have is wet from the ride. I have nothing to wear.”
Her face softens with pity. “You should have called for someone. I will have something brought to you right away.”
I feel ridiculous, but how can I object when I am speaking with the Queen of Glendon in damp underthings?
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
As she leaves, she waves her hand as if it’s a trivial thing. “I’ll have a lady’s maid with you shortly.”
True to her word, a maid arrives in no time at all. In her arms, she holds a breathtaking gown in dark amethyst. The bodice is fitted, and the skirt is full. Gold threads meander in a spiral design over the entire bodice.
Will Galinor like it?
I bite the inside of my cheek. What a ridiculous thought. What difference does it make if he likes it?
The maid’s face falls when she sees my consternation. “Don’t you care for it?”
“Oh, I love it,” I assure her. “It’s exquisite.”
As the daughter of a merchant, I have many beautiful gowns, but this one is breathtaking.
“Are you sure it’s all right for me to wear?” I ask, fingering the decorative stitching.
The girl laughs. “Of course it’s all right. The queen sent it to you.”
There are underthings as well. I slip them on and almost sigh out loud. It feels so good to be in something dry.
The maid slides the gown over my head and then laces the back. “Shall I tend your hair?”
I nod, and she carefully unwinds my braid. The damp tendrils fall well past my shoulders, looking longer now that they are wet. The girl works with quick, nimblefingers, and soon my hair is braided in a crown around my head.
“I am to take you to the others,” she says when she’s finished. “Are you ready?”
I glance at my reflection in the hand mirror she offers me, more nervous than I have reason to be.
With a bolstering breath, I say, “Yes, I’m ready.”
I pokeIrving in the ribs. “Will you stop glaring at them?”
He whisks me across the hall, leading me with the music. “I’m not glaring, Anwen.” His lips curve in a humorless smile. “I’m observing.”
I follow his gaze to Teagan and Marigold. They dance together, so animated in their conversation, they often forget to move. Instead of swirling with the music, they linger in the middle of the hall, their hands still in place, and their eyes locked.
Irving’s expression darkens as Teagan whispers something close to Marigold’s ear, making her laugh. I grin at Irving’s reaction and turn him so his back faces the couple.
We pass by the front of the hall, where Galinor sits alone, looking grim. I purposely avert my eyes, but they keep wandering back.
The gathering is intimate; there are twenty nobles at the most, not including the children who play at the edges. Little girls twirl in their dresses, staring at the couples with wide eyes. The younger boys run about,causing trouble, but the older ones watch the dancing with a mixed expression of horror and curiosity.
