Page 41 of Pippa of Lauramore (The Eldentimber #1)

“ P ippa,” Leonora says, “Stop fidgeting.”

“I can’t,” I answer, tapping my foot.

Ginna pulls a comb through my hair, which falls in long, soft waves past my shoulders.

“My darling,” Mother says as she slips a sparkling tiara in my hair. “You are exquisite.”

I wear a gown of pale green. It cinches tight at my waist and falls in rivers of delicate, embroidered fabric.

“It’s beautiful,” I say to Anna, who’s standing over my shoulder, weeping like a child. “How long have you worked on it?”

She sniffs, holding her kerchief to her nose. “Since you were seven.”

I laugh and pull her blubbering self into a hug.

I don’t hear him enter, but Father clears his throat near the doorway. “We are ready for you.”

I stand, and Marigold and Leonora fix my train behind me. They cluck over it like old hens.

Father smiles. “You are lovely. ”

Anna sobs again, and Mother looks close to tears herself.

“Wait!” Leonora exclaims. “She must have a bouquet.”

“Yuven brought one a short time ago.” Mother drifts over to a cluster of flowers resting in a vase in the corner.

I peer at the flowers. Something is wrong with them. It’s an arrangement of Ptarma lilies and fire sunflowers, but there, peeking from between the red flowers are tufts of bright yellow. Yuven has slipped yallow into my arrangement.

It’s perfect.

I take Father’s waiting arm, and he leads me to the front of the chapel where we are greeted by the villagers waiting outside.

Dozens of laughing, village girls step through the chapel first, tossing petals on the ground.

Due to the short notice of the wedding, their dresses do not match, but they all have flowers woven in their hair, and I think they look darling.

Mother and Anna go first and meet Alexander, who will escort them to their seats. Leonora gives me a radiant smile and links arms with Marigold, and then they too disappear through the doorway.

I take a deep breath. It is my turn.

I’m greeted by hundreds of smiling faces. I grin like an idiot as I take the first step down the petal-strewn aisle. The people rise as I enter.

Archer’s eyes are warm, and I flush under his gaze. Gone are his roughly woven garments, and in their place is a tunic of deep blue, a crisp white shirt which ties as his throat and wrists, and an unfamiliar crest that depicts a silhouette of a man with a bow facing a dragon .

The House of Archer.

The music is bright and festive, as is the atmosphere in the chapel.

Someone has raided Mother’s garden. There are swags of brightly-colored flowers fixed to the old wooden pews.

Gauzy white fabric runs down the aisle. The distance is so long, it seems like I will never reach Archer. But then, I am here.

I clasp his outstretched hand, and Father steps aside to join Mother at the thrones in the front. As one, our audience sits.

Archer’s hands tighten over mine as the bishop begins the service. I glance up and meet Archer’s eyes. He smiles, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“Do you, Lord Archer of Errinton, take Princess Philippa of Lauramore in holy matrimony?”

Archer’s eyes are warm. “Forever.”

“Do you, Princess Philippa of?—”

“Pippa,” I correct.

The bishop stops, taken aback. “Er, Pippa , do you take Lord Archer of Errinton in holy matrimony?”

“I do,” I say, and then I throw myself at Archer, pressing my lips to his. He laughs and wraps his arms around my waist.

The bishop clears his throat. “Rings,” he yells over the cheering crowds.

I turn to Leonora, who is standing beside me, and she hands me a gold band. I take Archer’s hand and slide the ring on his finger.

Archer offers me his hand, palm out, and I set my hand in his. He pulls off the purity ring, and I flush as he raises his eyebrows. He replaces the purity ring with a perfectly simple gold band. “I will love you forever, Pippa. Through all trials and tribulations. I will cherish you always.”

“Trials follow me,” I warn him, grinning.

“You cause trials,” he corrects.

“I truly love you, Archer. Forever and always.” I turn to the bishop. “Can I kiss him now?”

The bishop nods, huffing out a breath.

Archer kisses me first, his lips soft against mine. The people in attendance laugh and cheer. We turn to them, hand in hand, as man and wife.

Anna is bawling. Her embroidered handkerchief is pressed to her nose, and her face is splotchy. Irving’s uncle, Lord Howell, has his arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. She sighs and sets her head on his shoulder. She dabs her eyes as I gawk at her.

I laugh out loud, now realizing I’m looking at the answer to the riddle as to why Anna’s been absent so much since the tournament began. Perhaps she will be in my place next.

I find Galinor in the crowd and raise my hand to my chest, acknowledging him and all he’s done for us. He smiles back, and though he looks a little sad, I know he’ll be just fine judging from the swooning, starry-eyed women surrounding him.

Irving, Dristan, and Bran are among the loudest of the group, and I wave to them. And last, toward the back, is Rigel. There are no words to express my gratitude, so I simply nod, and he returns the gesture in same.

“There’s a huge feast all ready for us,” I say to Archer as we near the end of the aisle .

“So I’ve heard.”

“What do you think of slipping away after the cake to go for a moonlit ride?”

He raises an eyebrow. I wait, grinning.

“Pippa, yes.”