Page 30 of Anwen of Primewood (The Eldentimber #2)

I stare at Dimitri with my mouth hanging open. He looks just like I remember him…but somehow disappointing. He’s not quite as tall as I thought he was, not quite as strong. His sharp eyes take in my scrutiny, and he moves toward me. Instinctively, I step back.

“Anwen,” he whispers, his brown eyes narrowing as if I’ve hurt him.

I open my mouth to speak, but I find no words. Instead, I turn from him and walk away.

Galinor gives me a questioning look, and when his eyes meet the man I was speaking with, his expression turns murderous. “Is that him?” he asks as I hold my hand out so he can help me into the carriage.

“I can’t do it, Galinor.” My voice shakes. “I’ll find him again during the festival, but I just can’t right now.”

Galinor’s eyes return to my face, and he softens. “All right.”

Dristan hesitates, his hand on his sword.

“No, Dristan,” I whisper. “He’s wearing the stone. He can transform into anything. Please, I want to be away from him.”

Dristan’s eyes flicker to me with indecision, but he finally joins us and tells the driver to take us to Castle Calland.

“Anwen!” Dimitri yells, running to the carriage as we pass him. “Please!”

I don’t look at him—I can’t. As soon as we’re out of sight, I close my eyes and let hot tears trail down my cheeks.

“ You walked away ?” Marigold says, shocked.

The news of finding Dimitri was enough to drag Marigold out of the library. She and Rosie sit on my bed, watching a lady’s maid fix my hair.

Stunning is the only direction I gave the woman.

My patchwork outfit has been freshly laundered and mended. When I returned to my room, it was folded on my bed, waiting for me. A patch has been added where the arrow sliced through the fabric, but it looks all right.

I have it on now. Sandals have replaced my boots, and the maid has darkened my eyelids and lashes.

Tonight, when I see Dimitri, I won’t look like a drowned sea rat.

“I wasn’t ready to face him,” I say. “He took me by surprise, and I didn’t have the upper hand.”

Marigold waves to what the maid has been doing to me. “This will give you that?”

Rosie laughs and tosses her lustrous chestnut hair behind her shoulder. “When it comes to men, this will certainly give Anwen an advantage.”

I blush a little, but I don’t care. Let Dimitri sweat.

“You’re not going alone, are you?” Marigold asks, concerned. “I’m not sure that would be wise.”

My eyes flash to her in the mirror. “You don’t honestly think I would let him trick me again, do you?”

Ignoring the temper in my voice, she answers, “It’s not safe to go alone.”

“Galinor is going with me.” I smile at my reflection. “And Pika.”

“You’re taking the glasseln?” Rosie exclaims.

“She’s quite docile on a lead now. Besides, it won’t be much of a loss if she eats Dimitri.”

They both smile.

“Danver stays here, though.” I peer at the sleeping fox on my bed. “If something happens to me—”

“You’ll be fine,” Rosie cuts me off.

I bite my lip. “But if something does?”

“We’ll take care of him,” she assures me.

Needing a distraction from tonight’s task, I ask, “How are you and Irving getting along?”

Rosie rolls her eyes. “There is no ‘Irving and I’. I was a joke. A game. A distraction.”

“I don’t know, Rosie.” Marigold scrunches her nose. “I think for once, Irving might be sincere.”

Rosie snorts and glares out the balcony. “It doesn’t matter. He lied to me, and I’m done with him.”

Marigold gives me a small, sad smile. We’ve all come to like Rosie. Trust Irving to actually find a good woman and then botch it all up .

“Bran has said I may stay in Triblue,” Rosie says. “They’ll find work for me somewhere.”

“You wouldn’t rather go back to your troupe?” Marigold asks.

Rosie sighs. “It hasn’t felt like my troupe since my father died, and that was several years ago. I’ll be happier here.”

A knock sounds at the door, and Marigold answers it.

Galinor waits on the other side. I take one last look in the mirror, admiring my darkened eyes and glossy hair.

I give the curls a toss and then turn to face Galinor.

His eyes go wide when he sees me. His admiration makes me nervous, but I catch myself before I bite my lip.

I don’t want to smear the stain that’s been applied.

I give Galinor a weak smile. “Are you ready?”

He raises an eyebrow and answers my question with one of his own. “Are you?”

I nod. “Let’s finish this so we can all go home.”

The attention Pika draws is astounding. People part for us, watching her with disbelieving eyes. She must be able to tell she’s on display because she saunters in a way that only a feline can. Even with her wings tucked against her body, she’s impressive.

Galinor walks next to me. He wears a tunic over a light chain mail shirt, his sword secure at his side. He’s added something I’ve never seen him wear—his circlet. He’s openly proclaiming his nobility. Even to me, he looks formidable .

It doesn’t take long to find the troupe. Whispers of a blonde street performer with a glasseln must be circling because Dimitri ends up finding us. He pushes through the crowds, curious. When our eyes meet, his jaw slackens. His gaze drifts from me to the glasseln and then back again.

Pika sits when I pause, waiting for our next move.

“Anwen, I can’t believe you’re here.” Dimitri steps forward. He hasn’t yet noticed Galinor by my side, or if he has, he’s ignoring him. He glances at Pika. “Is the glasseln safe?”

“For now,” I answer.

The crowd we’ve drawn moves back a few steps.

I stiffen when Dimitri suddenly closes the distance between us and crushes me to his chest. “Anwen, I can’t tell you—”

“Save your words,” I say, pushing him away.

Dimitri looks at me, hurt. He then glances at Galinor. His eyebrows knit, but he doesn’t acknowledge him. “Come on, let’s speak somewhere more private.”

He motions for me to follow him. Galinor nods me on, and he follows directly behind.

If Dimitri truly wanted to go somewhere more private, he wouldn’t be leading us to the middle of the festival.

We walk through the streets, and Pika draws an even larger crowd.

People gawk at her, treating her like she’s an act.

This is exactly what I had hoped for. Dimitri is less likely to do something underhanded if there is a crowd of witnesses present.

Finally, he stops in a square not far from the eastern port.

We’re in the heart of the festival now, and all around us there is music, laughter, and noise.

There are tents nearby, many with performers doing their acts.

Some juggle; some sing. Others are contortionists.

They writhe this way and that, twisting their bodies into ghastly shapes. Everything delights the crowds.

Dimitri turns toward me, his eyes begging me to listen to him. “Wait here.” He holds up a hand. “Please, don’t leave.” He disappears into a tent that I recognize as his.

When he returns, he carries a large stack of parchment. He offers them to me and nods encouragingly when I don’t take them. I glance back at Galinor. Though he looks uneasy, he only shrugs.

I hesitantly take the papers and flip through the stack. “What are these?”

“I tried so many times,” Dimitri says. “But a message was never enough to tell you how truly sorry I am for what I did.”

They’re letters, and they’re all to me. None of them are finished; most have been crumpled up at some point.

I love you, I’m sorry. I love you, forgive me.

The sentiments make me a little sick. I look up, wishing I hadn’t read them.

Dimitri steps forward, and his hands find my face. “I’m so sorry, Anwen,” he breathes, his dark eyes searching mine. “I can’t tell you how sorry.”

Galinor tenses beside me, but he doesn’t interrupt. I pull Dimitri’s hands from my cheeks, but he grasps my fingers so I can’t easily pull away.

“I’ve hated myself every day for leaving you,” he says. “I wanted to go back immediately, but I knew you would never forgive me. ”

I don’t know what to say. My heart feels as if it’s ice. Dimitri’s words—his apologies—should thaw it.

But they don’t.

“I want the stone back,” I say. “And my horse.”

Dimitri’s face falls. “That’s why you’re here?”

He sounds as if his heart is breaking, and I feel bad—I do. But not bad enough to give him what he wants. I don’t love Dimitri anymore. I’m not sure I ever truly did.

Dimitri’s hands find my face again, and he desperately wraps his fingers in my hair. “Stay, Anwen. Please, stay with me. Marry me. Never leave me again.”

The conversation is making me weary, and I sigh as I step back. “You think you care for me, Dimitri, but you don’t.”

I must finish this and get the stone so Galinor can take me away. I glance at the prince, needing to reassure myself he’s still at my side.

Dimitri’s eyes flash to Galinor, finally acknowledging him, “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”

Yes.

“You can make this up to me, Dimitri. I will forgive you for everything,” I say, trying to draw his attention back. “Just give me the stone and let me go.”

It doesn’t matter what I say—Dimitri no longer hears me. His attention is solely on Galinor.

“Who are you?” he demands. “You might think you love Anwen, but I loved her first. When we parted, my heart shattered. It was the worst mistake I’ve made in my life, and I have paid for it every day since.”

Galinor doesn’t answer. He simply stares at Dimitri, his cool blue gaze unwavering .

Suddenly, Dimitri’s face falls. “Don’t take her from me,” he begs before he turns back to me. “Don’t leave me. Anwen— I love you. ”

For a fraction of a heartbeat, only the tiniest sliver of time, I hesitate. Not because I love Dimitri, not even because I want him to love me…but because it stings so badly to know I was such a gullible fool.

But I was a fool, and Dimitri didn’t love me then and he certainly doesn’t love me now.

More, I don’t want him. My heart belongs to someone else.

Unfortunately, Galinor saw me pause. He studies me intently, suddenly looking unsure.

“Galinor, no,” I whisper, shaking my head.