Page 4 of Anwen of Primewood (The Eldentimber #2)

I watch, amazed, as the anger falls from his face, and his gaze drops to his lap. The man must be in shock; he makes no move to clean the cider from himself.

I step forward, reach for a cloth napkin from the table, and dab the liquid from his face. “I’m so sorry—”

He waves his hand. “It was an accident.”

“Still…” I lean down to wipe his dripping chin.

He looks up, and our eyes meet once again. His are truly the deepest blue imaginable. Even dripping with cider, he is striking—more than striking. With dark hair and a knightly build, he may be the most handsome man I have ever seen.

And I just knocked a tray of cider on him.

There is something in his eyes, though. He looks like a whipped puppy. I want to wrap my arms around him and soothe him. I resist this urge, but only barely.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper again.

A drip of cider trails from his brow and down his nose.

Suddenly, and for no explicable reason, I giggle.

The man gives me a look that is so incredulous, I try to stop.

But my embarrassment gets the best of me, and the laughter bubbles out again.

I bite my lip, sternly telling myself this isn’t the time to get hysterical.

A crowd hovers around us, and I wish they would leave. No one steps in to help, but they goggle at us, whispering amongst themselves.

Irving pushes through the crowd, sees the two of us, and then bursts out laughing. “Ah, Galinor, I see you have met Lady Anwen.”

There are a few incredulous whispers due to the use of my title, but soon the spectators disperse.

I recognize the name from the conversation with the couple in the carriage.

This is Galinor—the prince who cheated in the tournament.

I narrow my eyes. He doesn’t look like a man who would need to cheat.

“Lady?” Galinor asks, finally finding his voice. He glances at my clothing.

I shrug. “Long story.”

He nods but doesn’t ask me to elaborate.

Irving tosses Galinor another napkin. “Dry your hair. You look like a drowned rat.”

Galinor obliges, running the fabric over his head. I catch myself staring, and I look away.

“Still moping?” Irving asks Galinor.

Galinor groans and reaches for his mead, but he finds his chalice empty.

Irving looks at me. “Galinor’s love was married today.”

I glance around, looking for the princess. I haven’t seen her, but word has it she and her Lord Archer slipped away .

“How awful,” I say to the table, feeling awkward.

“She wasn’t my love,” Galinor says and then motions around the hall. “But this is a reminder of my greatest failure.” He lays his head on the table.

I glance at Irving and cringe. Irving grins and slaps Galinor on the shoulder. “Don’t be fooled, Anwen. This man here is one of the best you’ll ever meet.” Galinor groans, and Irving leans down. “Tell me, Galinor, how much have you had to drink?”

No response.

“Have you ever had mead before?” Irving prods.

“First time,” Galinor says, still not raising his head.

Irving grins and slides the empty chalice away.

“Wonderful. You see, this is Lady Anwen’s first night as a tambourine girl, and it’s obviously not going well for her either.

How about you tell her all about the tournament?

You’ll feel better, and we’ll keep her here so she can’t cause any more casualties this evening. ”

“Irving,” I protest. “I don’t—”

Irving winks and disappears once again into the crowd.

“You don’t have to stay,” Galinor mumbles.

“I don’t mind.” I sigh. “I really am a terrible performer.”

Master Draeger clears his throat from behind me, and he extends his hand. “The tambourine, please.” Like a scolded child, I give him the instrument. He snaps it out of my hand. “Don’t expect pay for the evening.”

I attempt a smile, but I’m sure it looks more like a grimace. “I don’t, sir.”

Master Draeger scowls at me, his bushy eyebrows drawing tight, and then he leaves. Feeling foolish, I set my head on the table as well.

“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” Galinor says.

I look up and find him sitting again, this time with his elbows propped on the table. “What leads a lady to the path of a tambourine girl?”

What leads a man that looks like Galinor to cheat in a tournament?

“I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours,” I answer.

He shares his tale with me—of how Princess Pippa chose him as her knight so she wouldn’t have to marry Prince Lionel of Vernow, who at the time was favored to win.

It started with Pippa and Archer helping with the scavenger hunt, but Archer also collected the dragon treasure when Galinor could not.

And it was Archer who donned Galinor’s armor and won the joust and competed in the hand-to-hand when the prince was poisoned by Lionel.

The story isn’t a short one, and by the time he’s finished, the wedding feast is nearing its end.

“Feel better?” I ask.

He doesn’t look as forlorn as he did before. He even smiles a little. “No.”

I laugh, but it’s soft. “What you did for Pippa and Archer was kind. You were the only one who knew the extent of Archer’s involvement in the tournament. You may still have won if you hadn’t shared it. You are a good friend.”

He stares off into the crowds. There aren’t as many guests as there were earlier. People are retiring for the night .

With a distant expression, he says, “If I could have won the scavenger hunt myself, things would have gone differently.”

“Archer found all the items?”

I’m sure Galinor found a few.

He sighs. “He found all but the eldentimber resin. Pippa retrieved that.” A smile plays at his lips. “She held a fairy king at knife-point for it.”

I inhale sharply. “A what?”

Galinor laughs. “I know—it’s hard to believe—but it was a real fairy. An entire tree of them.”

I grasp his shoulders, turning him toward me. “You must take me to them. Please, Galinor—please say you will.”

He’s surprised by the gesture, and he glances at my hands. I should let go, but I don’t.

“I’m sorry, Anwen, but I will not go back in that forest.”

“Please.” I meet his eyes. “I need you.”

He laughs, and it’s such a tired, sad sound, my heart aches for him.

His hands rise to mine, and he gently pulls my fingers from his shoulders.

“I’ve been here before, Your Ladyship, and though you are just as lovely as the first girl who begged for my help, I am not stepping foot in that forest again. ”

I yank my hands away from his, frustrated. Surely if Father received the changeling stone from the fairies, they would be able to give me another. I’m so close, but if Galinor won’t take me, I have no way to find them.

“Are you all right?” Galinor asks as I clench and unclench my fingers. “Anwen? ”

I look up and attempt a smile. “Yes, but I’m sticky from touching you.”

He laughs, and I’m startled by how genuine it is. He meets my eyes again. “You don’t want your hopes riding on me. Anyone but me.”

I shake my head, refusing to give in. If it’s not Galinor, who will it be?

Galinor stands with his men, and they are ready to ride. The morning sun is warm, and I linger under a tree, watching them. I haven’t spoken with him. I’m afraid if I approach him, he will wonder why I thought I should.

Galinor says something to his men, hands a boy his reins, and strides in my direction. “You are hovering,” he says when he reaches me. His voice is clear this morning, and his eyes are sharp.

I look up at him—he’s very tall when he’s standing—and I feel awkward. “I had hoped…I mean, I wondered…” I look at the stones under my feet.

He places a finger under my chin and gently tilts my face up. “You want me to change my mind.”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t,” he says, dashing my hopes.

I look away, frustrated, and bite my lip to keep from begging.

He groans and steps closer. “Why is this so important to you?”

I cross my arms and look back. “I’ve lost something dear to my family. I can’t go home until I replace it. ”

His features sharpen. “Your family won’t let you come home?”

I shake my head. “No, of course they would have me, but they would be so disappointed.” My voice trembles, but I try to hide it. “I’ve messed up so badly.”

“And if I help you, and we by some miracle stumble on this tree again, the fairies will give you what you need?”

He’s wavering.

“Yes.” I nod so vigorously a curl escapes my braid and falls in front of my eyes.

He grumbles under his breath. “Fine. I’ll try to find it, but I make no—”

I jump up, wrap my arms around his neck, and squeal in his ear. “Thank you, Galinor!”

He laughs at my spontaneity, holds me for just a moment, and then pulls me loose.

“What is this?” Irving says from behind me. Next to him, the girl at his side looks embarrassed.

“Marigold!” I gasp, surprised to see my friend here in Lauramore. I step forward to embrace her. “Did you come with Irving for the tournament?”

She smiles at me, but her eyes wander to Galinor. “Yes.”

Oh.

Marigold looks different. It takes me a moment to realize how my childhood friend has changed. Her light brown hair is down and soft on her shoulders instead of pulled tight, and she’s not fidgeting or looking at the ground. The last time I saw her, she was as timid as a mouse.

I glance again at Galinor. Marigold’s always sworn she will never marry—that she’d rather spend her time in Primewood’s library than with a man. I wonder if she has changed her mind.

Galinor smiles at Marigold with soft affection. I look away, feeling foolish for my display of enthusiasm.

Marigold glances around the courtyard. “Where’s Danver?”

Galinor narrows his eyes at me. “Who’s Danver?”

Still embarrassed, I flush and look away. “He’s my fox, and he was here a moment ago.”

“You have a fox?” Galinor’s voice is full of disbelief. “As a pet?”

“Yes, he’s quite tame.”

Galinor looks at Irving, but Irving only shrugs. “It’s better than the skunk she had when we were young.”

Galinor gapes at me.

“What?” I ask.