Page 8 of Pippa of Lauramore (The Eldentimber #1)

T he knock on my bedroom door wakes me up with a start. I blink, trying to figure out what time it is. The sun shines through the crack in the balcony curtain, so it must be morning.

“Pippa,” Leonora calls from the other side of the wooden door.

I flop back down and groan. “Go away.”

I stayed up half the night reliving the events from yesterday. What was Galinor going to say before we were interrupted, and why has Father allowed a lord from Errinton to enter the tournament?

“I will not go away, Pippa. Let me in,” Leonora says, irritated.

The guard would have opened the door for her if she’d just asked.

“Let her in,” I call.

I had hoped she would have breakfast with her, but her hands are sadly empty.

“You look awfully nice for how early it is.” I eye her silk brocade dress.

Her hair is braided back, and pearls are woven through it.

She sweeps in the room like the future queen she is and yanks open the curtains.

The room is flooded in bright, evil sunlight.

I cringe and throw the covers over my head.

“You were supposed to be at your music lesson over a half hour ago.” She pulls the covers away from my eyes. “Haven’t you heard the morning bells?”

“I don’t like the bells.” I sit up so I can glare at her more efficiently.

“Get up.”

I whip the covers back and drop my legs over the side of the bed.

“Are you to be my keeper today?” I growl, and then I remember Anna. Her headaches never last more than half a day or so, and I grow worried. “Is Anna all right?”

“She’s fine,” Leonora says, pulling me up. “She had something to do this morning, so she sent me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re late.”

The statement hangs between us, and she cringes. Leonora hates to be late to anything.

“I know, I know. Percival couldn’t find a book he needed, and I spent half the morning helping him look for it.” She sticks her head out the door. “Girls, come in now.”

Ginna and another young girl join us.

“Find something for her to wear,” Leonora instructs the girl and then turns to Ginna. “You’ll do her hair once she’s dressed.”

They both bob their heads. Before I know it, they’ve stripped me of my nightclothes, and a pale yellow summer gown passes over my head.

Careful fingers cinch the front. The girls slide matching fabric bands up my arms, followed by cuffs at my wrists.

Gossamer fabric falls from band to cuff.

It’s probably beautiful, but it’s a nuisance.

I’ll be hanging up on things all day.

Leonora nods, pleased. “Tillie, please tell Master Draeger that Pippa won’t make her lesson today.”

Tillie leaves while Ginna ushers me to a chair and runs a brush through my hair.

“How about you send a message to Sir Kimble, and we call it a day?” I wince as the brush hits a snag. “The two of us will sneak to the stables, saddle our horses, and be out the back gate before they realize we’re gone.”

I’m only joking, but I’m surprised when she pauses for a minute as if she’s thinking about it. “Are you all right?”

Leonora sighs and lowers herself to the nearest chair. “The tournament has Percival on edge. Your mother is nearly hysterical with details, and you’re—well, you’re not really acting differently.”

“We’ll go for a picnic.” I like the idea now that it’s planted in my head. “You need to get away for a few hours.”

She shakes her head and sighs. “No, what I need is to get you to Prince Kimble so I can help your mother with the final events today.”

“Go on. I’ll go as soon as my hair is finished.” I wave her off.

She actually laughs at me.

I tap my foot, ready to be out of this chair. “I promise you. I’ll go straight to Sir Kimble. ”

She leans forward. “Pippa, so help me, if you don’t show up?—”

“ Go, ” I say again, rolling my eyes.

“Thank you.” Leonora touches my shoulder as she brushes by. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?” I call after her, a grin on my face.

Her laughter echoes down the hall.

Sir Kimble cranes his neck, looking past me, and peers in the hall. “Where’s Anna?”

I shrug. “Leonora said she had something to do this morning.”

“Where’s Leonora?”

I step past him and take my place at the table. “She had to help Mother with the village tournament.”

He looks bemused. “You came…all by yourself?”

“Honestly,” I scoff. “You all act like I’m incapable of following instructions.”

My uncle tilts his head to the side. “ Are you capable of following instructions?”

I have a purpose for today’s geography lesson, so I ignore him and cut to the chase. “Tell me more about Errinton. We rarely speak of it.”

Mostly because it’s a depressing subject riddled with politics, and I never pay attention.

Sir Kimble crosses his arms. “What do you want to know? It’s rocky, cold, inhospitable, and has the largest population of dragons of any of the known kingdoms. ”

“Tell me about their involvement in the Dragon Wars,” I say, referring to a decade-long battle that was waged from the time I was a tiny toddler to my thirteenth year.

Lauramore created a truce with the dragons only three years into the war, but many kingdoms fought for six, seven, even eight years. Only Errinton fought the entire ten.

Sir Kimble sits, his face serious. “Errinton is a very old kingdom, and only a decade ago, their dragon armor was much sought after. They’re the only people with the knowledge of creating an alloy of iron and dragon scales, and it made their land rich.

Once the truce was accepted, the killing of dragons was forbidden. ”

I know that too, but I’ve never stopped to think about what it truly means. “Is that why so many of their citizens are turning to thievery? Is the kingdom going broke now that they can’t make the dragon armor? Or are they truly a cruel, savage people as I’ve been told?”

“There’s not much coming out of Errinton.

There’s ore in their mountains, but it’s never been seriously mined.

Other than that, the kingdom is rock, some scraggly grass here and there, and dragons.

Right now, the people are starving. No one goes to Errinton for a holiday—no one goes there for anything. There’s no money going in whatsoever.”

“Are they a cruel people?” I ask again.

He thinks about it, scratching his chin. “Some are, certainly. But they’re also desperate.”

“That doesn’t make it right to rob people—to steal their livestock and crops.” And do things that are much, much worse, but there is no need to mention those. Kimble knows.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Why is Lord Rigel here?” I ask, finally getting to the point.

“The same reason as the rest. He’s competing for your hand.”

I shiver, feeling cold.

Sir Kimble leans forward. “Rigel is neither cruel nor savage. He has ideas to save the kingdom, and he and your father have discussed a great many things in the last few years. My brother would be very happy with a match between the two of you.”

It’s becoming clear that my father’s idea of a good match is very, very different from mine.

I slip the needle into the handkerchief I’m working on and admire my stitches. Anna pauses over my shoulder, and I glance up. She’s scrutinizing my work.

“What?” I look at the embroidery closer. It’s perfect.

She holds out her hand, and I give the handkerchief to her. She flips the piece over and examines the back. Finally, she sighs. “Your skill has improved vastly in the last year, Pippa.”

I still want to know what’s wrong with it.

“I’m afraid I could do no better myself.” She doesn’t sound happy.

“Is that a problem?”

Isn’t that the point of lessons? What does she expect?

I’ve embroidered more skirts, pillows, curtains, handkerchiefs, linens, and scraps than anyone I know—including the fine and demure Leonora.

Every time I find myself in trouble, I’m either assisting Yuven, copying endless scrolls, or sitting for hours on end with a needle.

And I’m in trouble a lot.

The chorus of bells rings, announcing the hour.

“Set it aside for now. I’ll walk you to archery, and then I have to find your mother.”

I don’t set it aside. I thread my needle and settle back against the chair to continue. “I’m not going to archery today.”

I steal a glance at her. Naturally, she looks more than a little surprised since archery is by far my favorite part of the daily lessons.

“Are you feeling well?” she asks, setting her hand on my forehead.

My stomach growls. I couldn’t touch the afternoon meal because I was so worked up over seeing Archer. “I’m fine.”

“Then you will be going to your lesson. Archer has already been summoned from the events.”

I might as well get it over with. Over the last day, my anger has boiled away to hurt. I still can’t believe Archer lied to me.

“Fine.” With a resigned sigh, I lay the handkerchief on the chair, and Anna gives me an approving nod. I follow her into the armory and smile at the guards stationed at the door.

“Good morning, Princess,” Owen, the older guard, says. His wife is one of my mother’s maids, and they’re both very kind.

“You’ve polished your armor,” I say, admiring the way it gleams. “It looks very nice.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

I pause when I see Archer inside the door, tending his hawk. He’s heard us and turned around. I keep the smile on my face, but it’s forced. We pass into the room, and I turn toward a wall of swords as if I’m interested in them.

“You are to escort the princess to the palace gates after the lesson,” Anna says brusquely, already eager to be away.

Archer nods. “Of course, Lady Anna.”

She gives him an indulgent smile and then leaves us. The huge wooden door closes with a heavy thud, announcing we’re alone.

I can’t look at him. I’m so mad I think I might cry—and I most certainly do not cry. I fetch my bow, check to see that it’s been well cared for, and march past him.

Archer touches my shoulder. “Pippa?—”

I jerk away.

He runs a hand over his face. He hasn’t shaved today, and there’s light stubble along his jaw. “Pippa, now listen.”