We are quiet for several seconds before Marigold finally sets the mirror aside and twists in her seat to face me. “Is there something between you and Galinor?”
I prepare my answer as she asks the question, but I lose my words when she says “Galinor.” I expected her to ask about Irving.
“It’s all right.” She sighs, turning forward. “No girl can keep her head around him. Not even I managed it.”
“Pippa did.” I cringe as I say the princess’s name.
Marigold laughs. “Pippa was already in love.”
My friend’s words strike me to my core. Was Pippa’s love so much greater for her archer than my love for Dimitri? Even now I would like to believe the best of him, so why am I not immune to Galinor?
I braid my own hair, thinking the question over in my head. I come to no conclusion, but it matters little. Today he and I will part ways, and I doubt I will see him again.
We enterthe inn’s main room and find the men clustered around a table, looking solemn. There’s no banter between them—no smiles or jokes. I raise an eyebrow atMarigold to see if she notices the difference, but she only shrugs.
Their conversation conspicuously ends right as we join the table. They are all a little too quiet, and no one will meet my gaze.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Galinor finally looks up. His eye looks terrible this morning, all bruised yellow and purple. “Our horses seem to have been stolen last night.”
“Stolen?” I exclaim, shocked.
Marigold sits between Irving and Bran. “Was it Errintonians?”
I take a seat on the other side of Galinor.
Irving shakes his head, disgusted. “There was a note.”
He holds it up, and I snatch it from his hand.
“Thank you for the horses,” I read. “We’ll call our debts even.”
I shake the paper in the air. “What does this mean?”
“Orick’s men,” Galinor says, scowling at Irving.
“Surely they wouldn’t take our horses!”
Or would they? What would stop them?
Irving works his jaw but doesn’t answer.
“How much money did you win, Irving?” Marigold asks as she nervously runs her hand down her long braid.
“Five hundred gold pieces.”
I gasp. “Five hundred gold pieces?”
Irving shrugs. “They shouldn’t have gambled if they couldn’t afford to lose.”
Marigold scowls. “I thought King Ewan forbade gambling in Lauramore.”
Bran helps himself to another sausage from the platterin front of us. “His own son was running the games from the knights’ hall.”
I turn to Irving. “Can’t you buy more horses? After all, you seem to have a surplus of gold.”
“We’ve bought two from the inn keeper and one from an old farmer.”
