Page 6 of Anwen of Primewood (The Eldentimber #2)

“ W e looped around to see if it would continue its pursuit, and it has,” Irving says.

“Then, let’s not linger.” Without warning, Galinor urges his horse forward at a fast pace.

“Wait!” I cry, twisting around. “Where is Danver?”

“We don’t have time, Anwen,” Galinor says.

I meet his eyes, pleading with my gaze. “He’s too little. He can’t keep up.”

Galinor sets his jaw but then draws his horse to a halt. Before he can stop me, I leap to the ground.

“Anwen, wait!” He dismounts as well and follows me, his hand on his sword.

“What are you doing?” Irving asks when he and Bran draw their horses next to us.

I ignore them, leaving Galinor to explain. I whistle for Danver.

“What if it has him?” I rush ahead of Galinor, running down the path .

Relief nearly brings me to my knees because there, quite a way behind us, is Danver.

Galinor stops me. “Get back on the horse.”

“Danver—”

The prince grasps me by the shoulders, turning me so I have no choice but to meet his eyes. “I’ll get him. Go .”

I hesitate for several heartbeats, but then I run back.

After I mount the horse, I rein him toward Galinor and the troublesome fox.

Danver runs for us as if something is right on his tail…

and Galinor is rushing right for it. I kick the horse forward, hoping to meet them before this thing—whatever it is—catches up.

Once he’s close, Danver leaps into Galinor’s arms. I pull the horse back. Galinor tosses Danver to me as he presses a foot into the stirrup and swings himself up and into the saddle. He then claims the reins, and we’re racing through the forest once more.

I look back in time to see a flash of black between the twilight-masked trees. I squint, hoping to spot the creature again, but it’s gone.

Turning to the front, I hold Danver’s quivering body close. Galinor wraps his arm around me, pulling me securely to his chest as we leap over a fallen log. I close my eyes, terrified of the speed we’re traveling at.

Bran and Irving are just in front of us, and I keep my eyes trained on them.

We cross the path up the first terrace and then the next.

Finally, our pace slows as we near the palace.

The stars shine above us now, peaceful and oblivious to our flight through the forest. The moon rises over the mountains, and soon the road is washed in pale light .

“Do you think it’s still following us?” I tilt my head back to get a better look at the night sky.

“I don’t believe so.”

I stroke Danver’s fur. He sleeps in my lap, stretched out over one of my legs. Galinor seems to have made an exception to his rule about the fox riding with us.

“What was it?” I ask.

Galinor shifts behind me. “Who knows? It could have been anything here. I’ll be glad to return to Glendon, where meeting a black bear in the woods is your biggest concern.”

He’ll leave tomorrow, and there will be no hope of finding the fairies once he’s gone.

As if reading my thoughts, he sets his hand on my arm to comfort me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” I touch his hand. “I’m grateful you tried.”

“What will you do now?”

“I’ll continue to look for the troupe.”

Galinor exhales, long and slow. “Will you tell me what happened to you? And not the short, sweet version you fed me this morning.”

I like Galinor. I like riding with him. It’s nice to have company after the last few lonely weeks.

“I met a man named Dimitri in the village near my home. He was…” I struggle for the right word. “Mesmerizing, I suppose.”

My heart aches when I say his name. I shouldn’t miss him, not with what he did to me. But I still very much want to believe the whole ordeal was a terrible misunderstanding .

I clear my throat and continue, “I was commissioning a gown from the local seamstress. When I stepped out of her shop, Dimitri was across the square, speaking with the owner of the sundry.”

I feel foolish, but I’ve never told anyone the story, and it feels good to let it out.

“I waited by the fountain in the center of the square, hoping he would come. He did. I knew he was from a traveling troupe—it was obvious. He was dressed like a performer, spoke like a performer.”

“Anwen—”

I look back, meeting his eyes. They’re soft with pity, and it makes me feel foolish.

“I know.” I turn back to the front. “The traveling troupes are trouble. My father says it often.” I laugh like I couldn’t care less, but my heart cracks a little bit more.

“He asked to see me again. I began to sneak away to meet him. One day we were in the woods, talking. He told me of the amazing things he’d seen while traveling the kingdoms. I wanted to impress him. ”

Handsome, charismatic Dimitri—how I fell for him. I could barely think with his hands in my hair and his eyes drinking me in.

I shake the memory away and continue, “My father is a merchant. He has many astounding things, but none are as amazing as the stone he wore around his neck. I told Dimitri about it—the changeling stone. A gift from fairies.” I’m quiet for a moment, but Galinor waits.

“A few days later, Dimitri announced he was leaving, moving on with his troupe. He asked me to come with him—to be with him. He wanted the changeling stone, as well. ”

“Why would you—”

I turn around to face him, needing him to understand. “He said it was a token, a way to show my devotion.”

“Running away with him wasn’t enough?” Galinor growls.

Startled by his tone, I scoot forward. He stops me and draws me back. “I’m not angry with you.”

“I took the stone. I stole it from my father’s bedside table while he was sleeping.”

Saying the words out loud, hearing them come from my mouth, makes it so much worse. What awful, ungrateful girl would steal something dear from her parents? People who have loved her and given her anything she could ever want?

I hold my hand to my lips, waiting for the ache of the memory to subside. Galinor runs his hand over my shoulder again, and I focus on his soft touch.

“I met Dimitri that night, and he took me to his troupe. The next morning, he was gone.”

“What do you mean he was gone?”

The pain gives way to anger, and I finish the story.

Galinor is quiet, and I wonder how horrible he thinks I am. How could he not? I think I’m horrible. I can tell from the way he is tensed that he is on edge.

We arrive at the palace gates, Irving and Bran ahead of us, and ride to the stables. I wake Danver and coax him down. Galinor drops from the horse first, and then he turns to offer me his hand. Unable to look at him now, I avert my eyes and watch mist rise from the waterfall.

Irving hands his horse off to a groom. “Let’s see what we can scavenge from the kitchens, shall we? ”

Galinor nods them on. “You both go. We will be there shortly.”

I wait by Galinor’s side as he fusses over his horse. Finally, he hands the bay to a waiting stable boy. Without a word, the prince leads me toward the waterfall. We weave through lush gardens and pass flowers I would have thought impossible to grow in the cool mountain soil.

We reach a small wall, and Galinor sits, facing me. He stretches out his long legs, and I stand by his side, unsure what to do with my hands. His tunic is smudged with dirt that was kicked up on the ride back, and his hair is rumpled. Oddly, the look suits him.

“You can’t go after this man, Anwen. It’s too dangerous.”

“What choice do I have?”

“I will look for the Eldentimber tree again.” Galinor holds up his hand when I’m about to protest. “I’ll wait a few days. Perhaps whatever is out there will move on.”

I sit next to him. “You keep saying ‘I.’”

He gives me a stern look. “I won’t take you out there again.”

“I wasn’t that difficult.” I try to scowl, but honestly, I am too elated he’s willing to try again to give it much effort.

Galinor raises an eyebrow, and I notice there’s a smudge on his cheek as well.

“I have to be the one to speak with the fairies,” I remind him.

He makes a disgusted noise. “The fairies are another reason to leave you here. Who knows what they would do to you?”

I blink, startled by the vehemence in his tone. “ Do to me? Fairies are known for their hospitality.”

Galinor gives me an incredulous look. “Not these fairies.”

I roll my eyes, take out a handkerchief, and wipe the smudge from his cheek. “I want to meet them.”

Galinor lips part with his surprise. “What are you doing?”

I wave the handkerchief as if it’s obvious. “You have dirt on your face.”

The prince leans forward ever so slightly, stealing my breath.

“You’re worried about me when you have dirt here…” He touches my forehead. “Here…” His finger brushes my cheek, and then he moves it just below my bottom lip. “And here…?”

I laugh, a little self-conscious as I swat his hand away and dab the handkerchief over my face. “Better?”

With a quiet laugh, he nods. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving.”

Galinor stands and leads me to the palace, guiding me with his hand on the small of my back.

It’s been several days since our outing in the woods, and Galinor promises he will try to find the tree tomorrow.

Other than a few brief conversations, I’ve seen little of the prince.

While waiting for the creature to move on, Galinor spends his spare time sparring with the knights and nobles who have yet to return home from the tournament.

I watch them for a while, but Irving is embarrassing and constantly calls attention to my presence.

Finally, I seek out Marigold’s company, but I’m baffled when I don’t find her in Lauramore’s meager library. I wander the halls, looking for her. Eventually, I find her with Prince Percival’s wife, Leonora. Tea is served, and the bright-eyed, prim princess swiftly invites me to join them.

“So, you and Marigold grew up together?” Princess Leonora asks as she holds a gown up to me. She frowns, shakes her head, and then lowers the coral-colored dress.