“I was careful,” I hiss, glancing again at the strangers who are pretending not to watch us.
The attention makes me edgy.
Looking oblivious to the attention we’re drawing, Galinor raises a disbelieving eyebrow, studies me for a moment longer, and then sits back. “Fine. What did she tell you? Where did he go?”
“To Lenrook. The royal family is expecting a child soon, and there will be a festival held in the newborn’s honor.”
Galinor nods. “We’ll leave today.”
I lean forward and whisper, “What about Pika?”
He scowls at me. “I think we need to worry more about Irving and his new caravan cart.”
I laugh and take a drink of my tea. Soon Marigold, Dristan, and Bran join us. We’ve almost finished our breakfast when Irving finally graces us with his presence.
“Where have you been all morning?” I ask, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.
He lays his head on the table. “I was up most of the night with Rosalina. We stretched out in the meadow grass and talked about the stars.”
Marigold looks at him sharply. “Who is Rosalina?”
Irving smiles, his face dreamy and far away. “She’s the most beautiful girl. Her eyes are precious jewels. Her hair is spun silk.”
Marigold and I exchange a look. I study him for signs of a night spent with too much mead, but other than tired, he seems fine. We all listen idly as he tells us abouthis Rosie’s virtues. According to Irving, they are innumerable.
Irving sighs, hopefully near the end of his list. “She has the sweetest singing voice as well. Like a songbird.”
I nod to humor him, almost laughing when I meet Galinor’s eyes.
“And now for the best part,” Irving says, sounds as if he’s thankfully wrapping up his story. “I’ve asked her to marry me, and she’s said yes.”
Marigold jumps in her seat, and tea spills over the side of her cup and into her lap. Her face goes white, and her hands begin to tremble. Thinking quickly, Dristan rescues the cup before it can fall to the floor with a porcelain crash.
Hopefully he’s ready to catch Marigold herself because I think there’s an excellent chance she might faint.
“Irving!” I exclaim quietly. “What have you done?”
Irving sits up sharply, losing the dreamy expression as his eyes widen with disbelief. “Now don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind! I asked you first—you said no.”
“And the answer is still no,” I snap. “But you can’t ask a girl you’ve only met the night before to become queen of Primewood.” I lean forward and glance around the room before I quietly add, “Especially a girl from the traveling troupes! What were you thinking?”
“I most certainly can.” Irving looks at the men for support. “Can’t I, Galinor? Bran, Dristan?”
Dristan suddenly shows great interest in his breakfast. Bran rubs the back of his neck, holding up his other hand as if he refuses to answer. Realizing he won’t have thebrothers’ support, Irving turns to Galinor, waiting for his answer.
Galinor clears his throat. “Perhaps you should get to know her a little better?”
Irving narrows his eyes at the lot of us, and then, quite suddenly, he smiles. “You all just have to meet Rosie, and then you’ll understand. You’ll love her.”
His usual carefree, jovial expression returns to his face, and he helps himself to a plate of eggs.
Not ready to dismiss the ridiculous conversation, I remind him, “We’re leaving for Lenrook today.”
Irving nods, his mouth full. “Lenrook is fine. Rosie has agreed to come with us wherever we go.”
Snatching a sweet roll from the tray in front of us, unable to linger when Irving is being this ridiculous, I push away from the table. Marigold follows me.
As soon as we’re out the door, she turns to me.
