Page 32 of Anwen of Primewood (The Eldentimber #2)

R osie gives me a big, awkward hug. “You’ll be all right?”

I nod and try to smile. She frowns, but she doesn’t know what to say any more than I do. The mandatory goodbyes are awful—just as going home empty-handed is awful.

Dristan surprises me by wrapping his arms around me. “Remember, you must come back in the spring when we collect the foals.” He holds me at arm’s length. “Or sooner, if you need to.”

“I will,” I answer.

Less eloquent than his brother, Bran only pats my back. “Goodbye, Anwen.”

I don’t even want to look at Marigold. She’s been crying since I returned, and seeing her tear-stained face might do me in. I turn to her anyway.

She throws her arms around me. “Oh, Anwen, I’m so sorry.”

I pat her back and assure her I’ll be fine. I’m not sure who’s soothing whom.

Finally, I turn to Irving. He raises an eyebrow as he extends his arms, and I step into them. The prince reminds me so much of home, I’m afraid I’m going to lose my calm any moment. I back up quickly and pull away.

He flicks a curl out of my face, his eyes understanding. “We’ll return home after Teagan shows Marigold the journals from Lestonia .” He says the last word in a mocking voice, and he glares at Galinor as if it’s his fault Teagan has taken a liking to Marigold.

Galinor rolls his eyes and shifts next to his horse. The prince has offered to take me to Primewood while the others return to Glendon, and I can’t delay my return any longer. I wish the group could come with us, but my aching heart is glad for the solitude.

Irving gives Pika a farewell scratch, and Rosie cuddles Danver close to her chest. When she lets the fox out of her arms, I turn to Galinor and take a deep breath.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

Nodding, I move to my horse’s side and stroke her soft cheek. Dristan, Bran, and Irving rescued her and Pika while Galinor was facing Dimitri, and I’m so grateful to have them back.

Galinor gives me a leg up, and I wave a farewell to our party. They return the gesture, Marigold blinking back tears and calling a last goodbye. Knowing I can’t take anymore, I nudge Mara toward home.

I manage to hold my own tears back until we’re well out of Saltwreath, but inevitably, they come. Stoic by my side, Galinor says nothing.

We’ll be in Primewood in about six days, and then it will be another two days to my home. How am I going to face my father? How will I look him in the eye after what I’ve done?

I glance at Galinor after most of the tears have ebbed. “What do I do?”

He meets my eyes and gives me a soft smile. “You apologize.”

I shake my head, tilting my head up to the brilliant sky. “It’s not enough.”

“Will you mean it when you say it?”

“Of course.”

He reaches between our horses and squeezes my hand. “Then it’s enough.”

My head is so filled with possible outcomes that we ride in silence until the sun is high in the sky. Galinor finally nudges his horse toward a shady spot so we may rest. At his insistence, I accept a roll, though I am not hungry. Danver sniffs it but then settles next to Pika.

“You came back for me,” I whisper, unable to meet Galinor’s eyes.

“I shouldn’t have left you.”

I tear tiny pieces of crust away from the bread. “Why did you?”

Galinor looks past me at the trees. “I couldn’t imagine you would rather stay in the company of your friend, the failure prince, when the man you said you loved was groveling for your return.”

“You are not a failure,” I argue.

Wanting to tell him how I feel about him, I open my mouth to start, but then I close it again. I don’t know how to begin. Besides, he just called himself my friend. Maybe that’s how he thinks of us.

Friends.

A soft, warm breeze blows through my hair, and I close my eyes. Triblue wouldn’t be a bad place to live. It’s warm and sunny, and I do like the ocean. Maybe, like Rosie, I should stay—fling away my title and heritage and become a washing girl or handmaid.

It’s not like I can fix anything by going back now. And really, does my family even want to see me again? I don’t know why they would.

“Galinor,” I say, weighing my words. “What if I don’t go back?” I stroke Pika’s soft fur as I wait for him to answer.

“You need to do this. It will be all right.”

“What if it’s not?” My eyes search his. “What if they hate me?”

“I’ll be right by your side.”

I blink back a few stray tears. “What if they don’t want me?”

His expression softens. “Then I will take you away.”

Only a few more days and we will cross Primewood’s border. The weather is cooling the farther north we travel. We’ve left tropical Triblue and are now in autumn weather. The days are pleasant, but the evenings and early mornings are downright cold.

My mind keeps traveling back to my confrontation with Dimitri. I felt so helpless, so completely at his mercy. It’s not a feeling I wish to repeat.

“Galinor?” I ask as we ride.

He looks over, surprised I’m initiating conversation. I haven’t felt as talkative as usual.

“Remember when you asked if I could defend myself back in Lauramore?”

Galinor grins. “I distinctly remember you telling me you scream loudly.”

I nod, smiling a little. “Do you think you could teach me something? Like how to use a sword?”

“You want me to teach you to use a sword?” There’s laughter in his voice.

I scowl. “Not a big sword. A little one.”

“Like a knife?”

“Never mind.” I wave my hand. “It was a foolish idea.”

Galinor directs his horse off the road.

I follow him. “What are you doing?”

He gets off his horse and waits for me on the ground. “It’s not foolish.”

I glance at the sun, which is now high in the sky. “You want to start now? Right now?”

Galinor waves me over. “We have time today. We’ll reach the next village well before dark.”

Smiling reassuringly, he offers me his dagger. I take it from him, but it feels heavy and awkward in my palm. I try to hand the weapon back. “This was a bad idea.”

“No, it’s a good idea.” He steps up to me. “You’re holding it wrong. It’s not going to bite you.”

I try to mimic the way he shows me, but the dagger slips from my fingers. I reach to catch it before it falls to the ground.

Galinor steps forward. “No!”

Luckily, I don’t grasp hold of it, but I do nick myself.

I examine my hand. “You were wrong. It does bite.”

Galinor shakes his head, trying to hold back a laugh, as he looks at my hand. There are a few tiny droplets of blood forming down a small slice on my finger.

“Don’t try to catch a falling knife,” he says.

I pull my hand back.

“Let’s put it away for now.” He picks up the dagger and slips it in his sheath. “Now listen. You don’t need a weapon to protect yourself.”

I cross my arms and scowl at him.

He grins and rubs his hands up and down my arms. “I’m not going to teach you anything difficult. If someone comes at you, I don’t want you to be nice, you understand?”

“All right.”

Why would I be nice to someone attacking me?

Galinor steps forward. “There are several areas you can do the most damage easily: eyes, nose, groin, knees, and neck.”

I chew my lip, nervous.

“Gouge them in the eyes if you can.” He shows me how to arrange my fingers. “Use the palm of your hand and thrust it upward into their nose.”

I cringe.

“Kick them on the side of their knee. Hard.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think I can do this, Galinor.”

He steps toward me. “That’s what I mean.

You can’t be nice. If you need to use this, it’s because someone wants to hurt you.

You hurt them first so you can get away.

All of this is just so you can escape.” He continues, “If you think you can, hit them in the throat. If all else fails, knee them in the groin—but be careful they aren’t expecting it, or they can grab your knee. ”

We go over the moves, and he helps me. I feel more confident, but I’m not sure what I would do if someone like Dimitri’s big man tried to grab me from behind again. When I tell Galinor about it, his expression grows dark.

“I'm all right.” I set my hand on his arm. “Now show me what to do should it ever happen again.”

Gently, he wraps his arm around my neck. “If they grab you like this, I want you to slam your head back into their body. Elbow his stomach and then hit him in the groin. That should knock off his balance enough that you can twist and get away.”

He has me practice a few times, and by the time we’re finished, I’m exhausted.

Galinor nods. “Good. And if all else fails, you can jump on his back and pummel him with a rock.”

I laugh as I get back on Mara, feeling a little more confident. My smile fades as we ride.

Soon I will be home.

It feels wrong to knock on my own door, but that’s what I do. Just as promised, Galinor stands behind me. The manor looks the same as always. Ivy climbs the stone walls; the dark wood shutters are open wide to let the autumn sunshine in, and my mother’s herb garden grows in the entry.

Our housemaid opens the door. “Good afternoon—” She freezes, the door only halfway open. “Anwen,” she whispers. Her eyes move to Galinor, and she frowns.

“Hello, Brynna.” I work very hard to keep my voice even, but I’m afraid I just sound cold.

“Come in.” She steps aside. “I’ll fetch your mother.”

She scurries away, and I roll my stiff shoulders. The tension returns as soon as I hear my mother’s boots clicking down the hall. Hushed whispers are exchanged, but they end abruptly when the two women enter.

My mother’s face is white, and she stops and stares at me. Her blonde hair, so much like mine, is meticulously styled, and her gown is immaculate. If it weren't for the shadows under her eyes, I wouldn’t know she lives in a house with a curse.

I bite my cheek to keep from crying.

“Anwen,” she breathes. She runs the last few steps and throws her arms around me.

I’m so surprised, I don’t return her embrace at first. Finally, when she grabs my shoulders to look at me better—and I see the tears running down her face—I come to my senses and wrap my arms around her.

“I’m sorry,” I say with a sob, and then I repeat it over and over.