Page 10 of Pippa of Lauramore (The Eldentimber #1)

I slip through the palace, silent like a wraith.

The nearly-full moon shines brightly, and the clouds cast strange moving shadows on the stone walls.

I stick to halls that are unlit and rarely used.

The only people awake are the guards, and even they are dozing in the quiet, wee hours of the morning.

I still don’t know what the fifth item in the scavenger hunt is, even after I spoke with Leonora. She didn’t know and informed me she couldn’t tell me if she did. I thought about asking Percival but decided that would be unwise.

Galinor isn’t expecting to hear from me, but I need to get this information to him. Archer refused to deliver the message, as I knew he would.

I make my way through the kitchen. There’s a hint of warmth from the sleeping coals, but the light has burned out. I’ll need to find another way back in the palace when I return. The sun will be up in a few hours, and the cooks and kitchen maids will be rising any time now.

I slip through the garden door, cringing as it creaks. The sound echoes through the empty kitchen, and a dog barks somewhere in the palace. I wait, ready to flee, but hear nothing more.

Outside, the only sound comes from the waterfall. It’s a lonely, cold roar, and even though I’m warm under my cloak, I shiver. I slip through the gardens and into the stables.

A boy I don’t recognize, who’s twelve, maybe thirteen years old, sleeps on a cot outside the hall where the men’s horses have been stalled.

I crouch down and gently shake his shoulder.

He wakes with a start, and I hold my finger to my lips, alerting him to be quiet.

Then I pull my hood down so he will recognize me.

His eyes go large as he pulls himself up.

“Princess Pippa,” he says, his voice scratchy. “I?—”

“I need you to do something for me.” I point to a stall two places from where he’s resting. “Do you know the man that crest belongs to?”

He nods vigorously. “Yes, Princess. He is Prince Galinor of Glendon.”

“Give him this message.” I hold out a folded paper and warn, “He will notice if the seal in broken.”

“I will not read it, Your Highness,” he says, bowing his head.

“Good. Only to him, you understand? Not his squire or page or guards—only Galinor.”

He nods again. “I swear.”

The trumpets sound. The tournament—my tournament—is officially beginning.

This is agony.

I pace back and forth in front of my balcony. Do I want to go out and see what I can? Or will that make it worse?

Anna should be here by now. She didn’t mention going to the opening ceremony this morning, so where is she?

“I should be there!” I say, though there is no one in the room to hear me.

I should be sitting next to Mother, waving and smiling as each participant gallops through the arena in their colors, their men holding their flags behind them. I should hear the trumpets blare, not hear their faint call on the breeze.

This is my tournament.

A small nagging voice, one I tend to ignore, reminds me it’s my fault I’m here and not there.

“This time Father’s gone too far, though!” I exclaim and then realize I am, in fact, arguing with myself.

Five trumpets have sounded, and still no Anna.

Six trumpets.

Seven.

“Enough!” I march from the room and swing the door open, startling the poor guard who was unlucky enough to be on my watch today. I’m sure he’d rather be at the tournament too.

He calls to me, but I ignore him and stalk down the hall. I look one last time for Anna and then escort myself down the stairs .

The trumpets continue to sound, but I’m too far away to hear the names announced. I hope I’m not too late to see Galinor ride through the arena. I don’t know if he received my message. I don’t even know if the boy was able to find him.

I didn’t bother to cover my hair or dress, so I’ll be easy to spot if anyone is looking. With the excitement, I don’t think too many people will even notice me.

I don’t go to the stands. I couldn’t even if I wanted to; they are too crowded.

Instead, I stand with the hordes of people outside the arena.

I see the end of Irving’s introduction. He joins the line of mounted men across the arena, facing my family’s platform.

They won’t be fighting today, so they aren’t in armor but instead are wearing tunics in their kingdom’s colors.

Rigel is on his midnight steed next to Irving. His dark hair is pulled back, just long enough to secure at the nape of his neck. He glances toward the crowd, and I swear his eyes meet mine. I feel a chill and look away. There’s no way he singled me out in this crowd. I’m sure of it.

A lord from Framnull is announced, and the crowd cheers. He and his men circle the arena. The men exit with their flags, and he takes his place next to Irving.

I’m not surprised when Archer steps up next to me.

“Watching for me, were you?” I ask, standing on the tips of my toes as the trumpets sound for the youngest of the Triblue princes, Dristan.

“I assumed you would find a way.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I don’t see Galinor. ”

A man bumps me from behind, and Archer turns to glare at him. The man apologizes and moves away.

“He’s third to last,” Archer says.

I nod. Bran’s announced after Dristan, and he makes his loop and joins his brother.

“Why aren’t you up there?” I motion to the platform where my family is seated. Standing behind them are my father’s elite.

“I’m not a knight,” he answers, his voice clipped.

I pull my eyes from the arena, irritated. “You are Father’s master archer.”

He holds a hand up, asking me to let it be, and shakes his head.

“It’s not fair,” I hiss at a whisper, irritated—as I always am when the subject comes up.

“What more does he require of you? You saved his brother’s life!

” I exclaim, referring to a particularly bloody battle near the end of the dragon war—one of the last in Errinton that Sir Kimble and Archer shouldn’t have technically been involved in.

I run my finger down the long scar on his arm to remind him.

He jerks away. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Your grandfather is a lord.”

His eyes flash now. “Pippa, that is enough.”

There are a few soft exclamations around us, and several people look at me for the first time. I’m about to respond when the trumpets sound and Galinor is announced.

The crowd goes wild as they watch the prince ride in. He sits tall and regal on his horse, and women scream his name. Already my handsome prince is a favorite with the people. I watch him take his loop, and I’m nearly bursting with pride. I yell with the crowd, cheering for my chosen prince.

Archer doesn’t speak until Galinor has found his place in line. “The people like him.” His voice is neither approving nor judgmental.

“Of course, they do,” I answer. “Look at him.”

None can match Galinor in both looks and size. Irving is nearly as handsome, but nowhere near as muscular. Lionel is large but very plain in comparison.

Galinor is the kind of man legends are made from—bards will sing his praises for years to come. I don’t mention this to Archer.

The next man to ride, one of Lauramore’s very own lords, receives another loud cheer from the crowd. Finally, Lionel, the last competitor, is announced. He’s very serious and looks a little put out. In his mind, he’s already won the tournament, and all this is folly.

With the last of the introductions finished, my father stands. A hush goes over the crowd, and I can almost feel the people’s excitement as we wait to hear the much-anticipated items on the scavenger hunt list.

“I want to thank you for joining the tournament, and I apologize for my daughter’s absence.”

A few of the villagers next to us glance my way, and—much to my chagrin—so does Rigel.

“The scavenger hunt is a time-honored tradition, and we were careful to choose items unique to Lauramore. Each item is worth one point, and the man to first arrive with all five items will be awarded one bonus point. I wish you all luck. Percival will now announce the items.”

Father returns to his seat, and my eldest brother stands, looking as much a king as my father. “Your items are as follows: A slain grim boar?—”

The crowd murmurs, acknowledging the danger of the first item.

“Maid-of-the-shadows,” he continues. “An inger egg, Eldentimber resin.” He pauses, waiting for the crowd to quiet. “And the last item…”

I lean forward, holding my breath.

“Is for you to decipher. You must find the most valuable item in the kingdom.”

I groan. They want a black lake pearl. Impossible.

I turn to Archer. “It’s too rare. Why would they choose a black pearl?”

He shakes his head, his eyebrows knitted. “It can’t be. Percival already decided it would be too dangerous to add to the list.”

“It must be. It’s the most valuable item in the kingdom.”

The black lake pearl oyster is found in deep underwater caves in the upper lake.

They are rare—only one will be found for every thousand lake oysters harvested.

Breathing spells and other concoctions are the only way to venture to the caves, and such things are forbidden and have been since before the peace agreement with the dragons.

No one has found a black lake pearl in over ten years.

“It’s something else,” Archer says .

Though he’s determined, I don’t believe him. It must be a pearl.

Anna is oddly absent again this morning. It’s not like her to disappear. But it’s not like me to wait—so I don’t.

I have a mission this morning, and I will need help.

When I find Archer, he looks lost in another world. He adds fletching to a stack of arrows, and I don’t think he hears me come in the armory.

I lean over his shoulder and whisper close to his ear, “Can you finish later?”

He jumps, just like I hoped he would. I laugh as he whips around, pinning me with a sharp look of surprise.

“Pippa, what are you doing here?” he asks, standing. As he moves, I get a whiff of pine oil. “It’s not time for your lesson.”