Page 77 of Anwen of Primewood
“I’ve never been on the ocean,” Galinor says after several quiet moments. “It’s so vast.”
There’s a small island not too far in front of us, but around it, the sea stretches like it’s never-ending.
“I never tire of it,” I answer.
We stand so close my shoulders touch his arms, and we stay this way until we reach the tiny island. Jacques docks the ship, and Galinor helps me onto the wooden planks. The firm ground feels odd under my feet, and I hope my balance returns soon. I would hate to ruin this gown by falling in the water.
“Remember,” Jacques says. “If you don’t return by sunset, I’ll leave you.”
Galinor nods, takes me by the elbow, and guides me off the dock and onto the white shore.
“He’s said that twice now.” I look around, feeling vaguely uneasy. “What’s out here?”
“Dristan mentioned it.” Galinor gives me a smile, and we continue to follow the beach. “It’s not what’s on the island—it’s the rocks we passed on the way here. They’re hard to spot at night and dangerous to sail around.”
That isn’t nearly as ominous as I imagined.
Feeling a little more at ease, I look around. The island is lush, and there are even more vibrant flowers blooming here than in Triblue. Tropical birds call to us from the trees, and a brave one flits forward to say hello.
I motion at the scenery. “This is lovely.”
“It is,” Galinor agrees. “But that’s not why I’ve brought you here.”
I raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to elaborate. Instead, he leads me down the shore. We’ve walked far enough the ship is well behind us now and no longer in view.
Galinor’s hand moves from my elbow to the small of my back. He points ahead and whispers, “There.”
I look up, and my hand rises to my chest. Over a dozen dazzlingly white horses dance in the spray of the sea. They run in and out of the waves, tossing their manes as they call to each other.
“They’re called Altiers, and they are native to the island,” Galinor informs me, obviously pleased with my reaction. “According to Dristan, there are none like them in the known kingdoms.”
If they weren’t so large, and obviously hornless, I would swear they were unicorns. Their perfection is unparalleled.
“Bran and Dristan’s horses looked just like these,” I whisper.
Galinor nods. “They are almost impossible to break. Only the royal family in Triblue may claim them, and they are captured as foals.”
“Do you think I could approach them?” I take a few steps forward, wondering if I dare.
“You’ve enchanted a glasseln, Anwen. I think you have a fair chance with a horse.”
I scowl at him. “I didn’t enchant Pika, Galinor. I’ve never enchanted anything.”
He offers me a lopsided grin. “You’ve enchanted me.”
My heart slams in my chest even though I know he’s only teasing. I forget any desire I had to see the horses—I barely remember they exist. In my mind, now would be the perfect time for Galinor to take me into his arms.
Oblivious, he steps toward the Altiers and motions me on. I study him for a moment and then brush past him with a sigh, mildly irritated.
But the horses are remarkable, and I quickly forget my frustration. They look up when I whistle at them. Though hesitant, they are curious. It doesn’t take long to coax them to me. I laugh, stroking a silky mane, and look at Galinor, delighted. He stands a fair distance away, not wanting to spook them. His deep blue eyes crinkle as he smiles.
I glance toward the horizon, realizing the hour is growing late. The sun is already sinking, turning the clouds gold and the sky pink. I don’t want to leave yet, but we don’t have a choice. Jacques seemed sincere when he said he’d leave us if we were late.
Wishing I had more time, I pull myself from the herd.
“Dristan and Bran would do well to keep you around,” Galinor says when I return to him. He motions to the horses. “They’re already besotted with you.”
I steal one last glance over my shoulder. “They’re beautiful, Galinor. Thank you for bringing me today.”
