Pippa of Lauramore Page 3

  I quite dislike her sometimes.

  “Tell me about your prince, this Galinor,” she says, her eyes sparkling.

  I take a deep breath and let myself smile. “He’s very handsome.”

  “And easy to manipulate?” She grins.

  My mouth drops open. “I didn’t manipulate him. How awful you make me sound! Did you think, perhaps, he has a sense of adventure as well? Not like the rest of you.”

  “Sense of adventure,” she scoffs.

  “It was so romantic.” I ignore her and lean forward. “We rode through the woods, and I showed him the maid-of-the-shadows, and then I took him to that cavern—the one you refuse to visit—with the huge open ceiling to look at the stars.”

  She sighs. “It sounds wonderful. It’s too bad your father figured it out.”

  “Figured it out!” I exclaim. “Archer told him.”

  Leonora looks stunned. “Why would he do that? How would he even know?”

  I set aside my anger—I want to save it all for Archer—and explain how he found us in the stable.

  She shakes her head. The light from my window falls on her soft brown hair and makes her look angelic. “Archer wouldn’t do that, not if he gave you his word.”

  “There was no one else,” I argue. “Who do you think it was? The dog?”

  “You’re surly this morning.” She gives a piece of melon a gentle poke with her knife.

  “Are you going to the village archery event today?” I ask, referring to one of the pre-tournament festivities open to the peasants and villagers of the kingdom.

  She gives me a small frown. “I’m sorry, Pippa. I have to go. I helped your mother arrange the whole thing.”

  “It’s all right. It’s my fault I’m stuck in here.” I stab a large piece of melon.

  “The prizes are really wonderful.” Leonora’s eyes are bright.

  My mouth is full, so I nod for her to continue.

  “Money purses, lots of livestock, barrels of sugar and wheat, and even one barrel of that wonderful cider from last night.”

  “What’s the grand prize for winning the event?” I cover my mouth as I chew.

  She leans forward. “Five hundred gold coins and a year’s worth of food delivered each week from the palace kitchen—whatever we eat, they’ll eat.”

  I’m stunned. “Your turnout is going to be amazing.”

  “I know!” She laughs, and then her expression falls. “I wish you could be there.”

  I wave my hand like it doesn’t matter, but I’m heartbroken.

  ***

  We finish with breakfast, and Leonora excuses herself. Once she’s gone I open my balcony doors and let the summer air in. The banquet must be over because the music has already started. Yesterday’s rain is long forgotten, and the sun is shining bright.

  I’ll let myself wallow for just a moment, and then I’ll go back inside. I step onto my balcony and rest my arms on the stone wall. Our gold and sapphire flags wave in the breeze, and the arena is already crowded. Targets are set up for the competition, and the seats are packed. There are people everywhere.

  I squint to see if I recognize anyone, but they are too far away. A hand touches my shoulder, and I jump. I whirl around to find Anna staring up at me, her eyes narrow and her mouth turned down in a frown. Her white hair is streaked with a few stubborn red strands, and I wonder if it’s by sheer will alone she’s not all white.

  “Hello, Anna.”

  “You couldn’t behave yourself at your own party?” she says instead of a greeting.

  I roll my eyes and slouch against the stone wall. “We were on our way back.”

  “It’s shameful the way you run about. After eighteen years I would think you would have learned how to be a lady.”

  I have learned how to be a lady. It’s just so dull I can’t stick with it.

  I wave my hand without any conviction. “I was being hospitable to our guest, showing him the highlights of our kingdom and so forth and so on.”

  Her eyes narrow even further. “How hospitable?”

  I sigh and hold my hand up, showing her the ring.

  She nods, temporarily appeased. “No prince or lord wants a tarnished princess.”

  I groan and let my attention drift back to the festival.

  “Your father has decided you will attend lessons as usual,” Anna says, ignoring me. “I will walk you down to Master Draeger.”

  My head snaps back. “What? My lessons were postponed until after the tournament!”

  “Apparently the moonlit ride changed his mind.”

  Anna is tiny, but what she lacks in height she makes up for in tenacity. She sets both hands on her hips and stares up at me, daring me to argue with her.

  At the young age of fifteen, Anna was nursemaid to her third cousin, my mother. When Mother was married, Anna traveled with her from their kingdom of Ptarma to Lauramore. She looked after both my brothers and me, but when they reached a certain age, it was decided they no longer needed a nursemaid. For some reason no such decision was made when I reached the same age. Anna went from nursemaid to my personal keeper, and she takes her job very seriously.

  She’s never married, and I think my life would have been much easier if she had. I mentioned it once. It didn’t go over well.

  “I dislike music very much,” I whine as we descend the wide spiral staircase.

  When I was little, I used to run up and down these stairs pretending I was an important messenger charged with saving the kingdom. The servants and maids would smile, pretending they didn’t notice me running like a wild thing through the palace. Then one day I tripped on the plush red runner, fell down the stairs, and landed at the bottom with a bloodied lip and a massive knot on my head. Father demanded that I was no longer allowed to run amok. Though I was very young, only four or five, my lessons started the next day.

  Father said a spirit like mine needed to be kept busy. He said that once about a difficult horse, as well.

  I’ve never forgotten that.

  “Your mother always liked her lessons,” Anna answers.

  I glance at her. “I’m nothing like Mother.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  We reach Master Draeger’s music hall, and Anna raps three times on the tall, wooden door. It swings open, and there stands my music instructor, looking more dour than usual.

  “Good morning, Master Draeger,” I say cheerfully.

  His bushy gray eyebrow twitches. “Good morning, Philippa.”

  There’s only a select few who use my full, dreadful name. Master Draeger is one of them.

  He ushers us in, nodding respectfully to Anna. “Good morning, Lady Annora.”

  She gives him a small, sympathetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Master Draeger. You should be enjoying the festivities.”

  It’s not the first time I’ve heard a family member apologize to someone charged with my care and learning. I wander to the harp while they share their condolences with each other. It sits before me in all its polished beauty. I glare at it. Having almost completely given up on my singing ability, Master Draeger decided I should practice the harp. Very suitable, he said.

  Anna sits in her usual spot in the corner by the window and takes out her embroidery. Her entire skirt is covered in delicate, floral threads, and so is the neckline on her bodice. Her room is covered in tapestries and embroidered cloth. No fabric is safe from a needle when Anna is around.

  “We will begin with the harp, and then we will practice your singing.” He cringes.

  Honestly, I’m not that bad.

  I pluck at the harp until the palace bell rings, signaling the half-hour. My back is stiff from leaning over, and I’m glad to be finished. I stand on the wooden practice stage, only one step high, and Master Draeger comes to the podium in front of me.

  He grimaces. “Begin your scales.”

  I think I’m improving, I really do. I warm up, working hard to hit the notes. I’m a little shrill, and both Anna and Draeger wince whe
n I reach the top of the scales. I take a deep breath, remembering to stand straight and keep my muscles taught, just as Draeger has instructed. There’s a small part of the scales, toward the very middle, where I think I sound nice. When I’m in those, Anna and Draeger’s faces smooth out for the moment.

  I stop, frustrated. “Why can’t I just sing something in the middle of the scales?”

  “We’ve discussed this.” He frowns, and his eyebrow twitches again.

  “But why does a lady have to sing at the top of the scales?”

  Anna looks up. “That’s simply the way it is, Pippa. Stop hassling Master Draeger.” She turns to the master. Her voice fake and bright, she asks, “With more practice, she’ll get better, won’t she?”

  Draeger looks incredulous, but he answers, “Of course she will. Lots and lots of practice.”

  A chorus of bells signals the hour, and I stumble down the stage, relieved music is over.

  ***

  “Pippa,” Sir Kimble greets me. There’s an unmistakable twinkle in his eye.

  “Hello, Sir Uncle.” I answer, flopping down at the table covered in maps.

  Sir Kimble isn’t actually a Sir at all. He’s Father’s younger brother and therefore Prince Kimble. I’m the only one who calls him Sir. When I was young, I thought he looked like a knight, and the name stuck.

  “I have things to attend to, Pippa. I will be back for you at the hour.” Anna turns to Sir Kimble and smiles. “Please don’t let her leave without me.”

  He laughs. “Who knows where she would end up?”

  We both watch the door close behind her, and then he turns to me, grinning. “How was music?”

  “I’m horrible.”

  “Your mother is very gifted in the musical arts. I’m sure your gift is hiding in you as well.”

  He’s only teasing me. We both know how terrible I am.

  “It’s not fair you got roped into teaching me with the village events going on today,” I say, tapping the map. There are so many places I’ve learned about but never been to.

  Sir Kimble shrugs. “It’s only an hour, and Archer is handling the archery tournament so I’m not needed right now.”

  I feel my blood boil just hearing his name. When I get my hands on him—

  “Now.” Kimble cracks his knuckles and grins. “What should we learn today?”

  I lay my head on the map. “Tell me about somewhere far away. Tell me about Ptarma again.”

  Ptarma, my mother’s kingdom, is the most beautiful kingdom in the world, at least in my mind. It’s weeks and weeks to the west by ship. I’ve never been there, though Mother has been back a few times.

  I met two of my uncles once, and my grandparents have visited many times. While here they told me about the large white marble cliffs, brightly blooming flowers as big as your fist, and herb gardens that flourish all year because it never gets cold.

  Their hair ranges from blond to brown, but they all have copper in it like Alexander. Mother’s hair is a rich, deep auburn red—a much envied color, Grandfather told me. They marveled over my dark red hair and its gold ends. Mother told them it’s because I spend so much time in the sun that it fades. They told me it was because I was kissed by a fairy as a baby.

  I like their theory better.

  “Let us talk about Vernow,” Sir Kimble says, suddenly serious.

  My head jerks up. “Don’t you start with me too!”

  “Lionel is a good match, Pippa, and he’s expected to win.” His forehead creases, and he doesn’t look happy about the idea. At least one of my family members isn’t as mad as the others.

  “He’s horrible, Uncle.”

  He scowls. “I’m disappointed you would judge him on his looks. You are wiser—and kinder—than that.”

  My eyebrows knit, and I squirm a little. I think it over before I respond. “You are right. I have been critical of that, and that’s not fair to him,” I pause, and Sir Kimble nods. “But it’s not just that. It’s his character. He’s so bitter. I don’t understand it. He was kind as a child. Even when I was young and Percival and Alexander didn’t want a thing to do with me, he would keep me company and point out bugs and rocks and tell me what they were. I wasn’t terribly interested, but at least he was nice. He’s hard now and cold.”

  “Vernow is a huge, wealthy kingdom rich in trade, fertile land, ore, and fish. Being the heir to that kind of empire would be a great blessing and a heavy burden.”

  I shake my head. “Percival isn’t like Lionel.”

  Sir Kimble sighs. “Your father isn’t like his father.”

  I’m feeling thoroughly scolded, which happens often with my uncle. He lets me think about what he said, and I trace the map with my finger.

  I look up. “I still can’t marry him.”

  He nods. “I know.”

  “So where are we going to learn about?” I get back to the subject at hand.

  He smiles. “Glendon is very nice.”

  ***

  I glance up from my embroidery, irritated my thread has knotted. Anna is rubbing her temple. She’s pale and purposely facing away from the window—not the position you would want to be in to do needlework.

  “Are you all right?” I raise an eyebrow, but I already know what’s wrong.

  She’s getting one of her headaches. Mother gets them, and I do as well. Anna says it’s a family curse. Poor Anna gets them more frequently than either Mother or I do, though.

  “My vision is a little spotty.” She waves her needle at me as if she’s fine.

  “You need to lie down.”

  She pins me with her eyes. “And leave you here alone? That’s likely.”

  “Your stomach will feel ill if you don’t,” I argue. “Go rest. I’ll go to Yuven and get you some tea.”

  “You swear to me you’ll come right back with the tea?”

  “Would I leave you in pain?” I demand.

  “No, you wouldn’t.” Anna softens and stands, setting her embroidery on the chair. “All right.”

  I follow her to her room and then make my way down to the kitchens. Just off the hall is Yuven’s study. Mother has tried to get him to move to somewhere larger, but he likes access to the gardens, so he stays here. The room gets little natural light, and Anna still nags him to move since she sits here so often with me while she does needlework.

  Apprenticing Yuven is my mother’s favorite punishment.

  “Yuven?” I call, walking through the door.

  He’s not at his workbench, so I check the herb garden out his back door. I would make Anna’s tea myself, but I’m a little nervous about working with the herbs in the recipe.

  I find him hunched over with a pair of sheers, snapping away at a flowering yallow.

  “Pippa!” He straightens when he sees me. His black hair is in all directions, as usual. He has dirt on his trousers from kneeling on the ground, and his hands are stained yellow from the yallow. “Have they changed their mind? Are you to spend your punishment with me?”

  Yuven looks overjoyed. It’s always baffled me how he takes it in stride that my joining him is considered a punishment.

  I flick a twig out of his hair, and he turns bright red.

  I smile. “No, I’m here for tea for Anna.”

  “Headache again?” He tries to smooth his wayward hair down with the hand that isn’t clutching the bouquet of herbs.

  I nod, and he leads me to his workbench. Before he makes the tea, he arranges the cut yallow in a vase. Unhappy with the arrangement, he pulls out a few stems and then inserts them again in different spots.

  “Whatever are you doing?”

  He glances up and blushes an even brighter red than he did in the garden. “Do you like them? They are for…someone.”

  “Oh!” I exclaim. “How wonderful! Do I know her?”

  He purses his lips, as if he can’t decide if he should tell me. “She’s one of the garden maids.”

  “Which one?” I press.

  “Lissy,” he say
s. “You probably don’t know her.”

  “I think that’s wonderful, but are you sure you want to give her yallow?” I ask, peering at his yellow fingers.

  His face falls. “I thought it was pretty.”

  “Oh, it is pretty,” I say in rush. “I’m sure she’ll like it.”

  Yuven sets the vase to the edge of his workbench and pulls out the dried herbs I recognize as ingredients for Anna’s tea. I watch him closely as he chops the kerrabells.

  “Are you sure you don’t have too much there?” I ask, my voice anxious.

  He raises his eyebrows.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “Go on.”

  “If Anna has a headache, who do they have on guard duty?” he asks, teasing.

  I grin. “No one that I know of.”

  “Well, if you find yourself in the woods, I could use more merryming and some waterchivel.”

  “You’ll cover for me?”

  He hands me the package of finished tea. “Don’t I always?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Village Tournament

  It’s too hot to hide under a cloak, so I sneak down to the laundry and find a garden maid outfit in one of the cupboards. There’s no one in the laundry today. They’re all enjoying the festival. Many are competing in the events.

  It takes me a little longer to find a wide brimmed straw hat, but I manage it. I wrap my hair up with a scarf, careful to cover up any sign of red, and top it with the hat. The bodice is a little itchy, but the skirt’s not as long as my gown, so it’s easier to move in.

  It will do.

  Anna has had her tea, and I sat with her until she fell asleep. I have my embroidery with me, and I plan to work on it while I watch the event. Even with as horrible as she felt, Anna inspected it before she dozed off. If I don’t have a good chunk of it finished by tomorrow, she is going to know I slipped away.

  I nod to the guardsmen on duty. Only one recognizes me. He gives me a wink and then looks the other way.

  The sunshine on my shoulders feels marvelous. I’m thankful I didn’t find a long-sleeved kitchen girl’s shift first.

  The events are outside the palace walls, but there is still a lot of hustle and bustle in the garden. Very few villagers work during festivals, and those that do choose to run food and trinket stalls. Children play tag around the flower beds. Friends sit on benches, chatting.