Page 26 of Anwen of Primewood (The Eldentimber #2)

I nod, though I’m not sure I like this arrangement. I pass the groom and enter the cart. With the lead clipped to the new leather collar Dristan fashioned for her, I coax Pika into the sunshine. She stretches low, her shoulders down and her haunches in the air, and extends her wings.

Gasps sound from all around the courtyard, but I ignore them and stroke her soft fur. She purrs, happy to be out of the confined space of the caravan cart.

I hand the lead to the groom. “She needs a good, long walk before she’s taken to her quarters.”

He stares at the strip of leather, and his hand trembles as he takes it from me. “Of course.”

I watch the man amble off, half-leading, half-pulled by Pika. Only once they pass under an arch and out of sight do I follow Bran and Dristan inside the castle.

“You don’t think she’ll eat him, do you?” Irving asks.

I frown. “I don’t think so.”

I stroke the dark, wooden bedpost, lifting aside the canopy of fine netting. I had assumed Rosie, Marigold, and I would share a room, but Bran and Dristan’s parents are as generous as their sons and gave us each our own.

Rosie, uncomfortable with the finery of the castle, offered to sleep in the caravan cart. The king and queen wouldn’t hear of it.

A maid has left the doors to my balcony wide open. A soft, warm breeze blows through, bringing with it the smells of the sea. Ships float to and from the port. Many are large, multi-sailed vessels with carved prows, but there are small fishing boats on the water as well.

A knock sounds on my door, and when I open it, I find Galinor. Surprised, I look around to see if any of the others are with him. My stomach flutters when I realize he’s alone.

He gives me an easy smile. “Bran and Dristan are attending family business. The last I saw of Irving and Rosie, they were bickering, and Marigold has disappeared into the library. I assume we will see her again in a few days.”

I washed away the dust from the road as soon as I stepped into my room, and Galinor must have done the same. His hair is wet and dark, and his jaw is smooth from a recent shave. My fingers itch to run across his skin, but I keep my hands to myself—where they belong.

After the last two weeks, I’m beginning to wonder if I imagined our moment in the cart. Maybe it was a vivid hallucination brought on by Rosie’s sleeping draught .

Galinor crosses his arms over his chest, and he watches me like he’s waiting for something.

“Oh.” I step away from the doorway. “Come in?”

“It looks like we’re the only ones without plans,” he says. “I thought you might like to do a little sightseeing with me.”

I’m so shocked, I don’t answer right away. Just to clarify, I ask, “You want to go with me?”

His eyes brighten with amusement. “Yes, that is the idea.”

Having abandoned his Bandolian garb now that we’re no longer amongst the troupes, Galinor once again looks like a prince of Glendon.

His tunic is gray and fitted, and the fabric looks soft.

He wears his sword belted at his hip—he keeps it on him always—and his tall leather boots are clean and gleaming.

He waits for my answer, his eyebrows raised expectantly. The subtropical air seems a little too heavy and warm to breathe.

I glance at my gown. It’s the same rose velvet Leonora gave me before we left Lauramore. It looks a little drab amongst Triblue’s bright colors. “I need to change before we leave.”

“You look lovely.”

I smile at the compliment but shoo him out the door anyway.

Though I would like to hang the amethyst dress his mother gave me before I wear it again, it will have to do.

I pull it on and glance in the large mirror as I struggle with the ties.

I frown at my hair, which falls around my shoulders in partially dried spirals.

It’s too bad I don’t have time for a maid to tend it.

I twist it in a simple braid and coil it up with pins.

Once dressed, I take a deep breath and open the door. Waiting for me, Galinor looks out a floor-length window, his hands clasped behind him. I clear my throat, and he turns. His eyes light with appreciation, and he offers me his arm.

I feel giddy and nervous. I’m worried my blush is going to extend all the way from my cheeks to my chest, leaving me ugly and blotchy. If it does, Galinor doesn’t seem to notice.

He escorts me through the hall, down the stairs, and into the balmy sunshine. An open-top carriage waits for us, but I hesitate when Galinor leads me toward it.

“You didn’t expect to explore on foot, did you?” he asks, his tone light.

I’m not sure what I expected, exactly. But I can’t take a long walk through the town with my leg still healing, and I certainly don’t want to wear this dress on a horse.

Galinor helps me step into the carriage, gives the driver instructions, and then sits down next to me.

I’m forced to look up because he’s so much taller than I am, even when we’re seated. “Where are we going?”

Galinor leans close, his eyes shining as he tilts his head to whisper near my ear, “It’s a surprise.”