“You don’t want to tell your guard you’re leaving?” His voice is disapproving.
“I don’t have a guard.”
“What about a horse?”
“I have a horse.” I nod and then rub my cheek. “She’s not here.”
Galinor narrows his eyes. “Where is she?”
“She was stolen.”
He leans down, his eyes sharp as he studies me. “You never told me your story, Anwen. Perhaps you should.”
I bite my cheek. I don’t want to tell him about Dimitri—it’s humiliating.
“I joined a Bandolian troupe,” I say. “They robbed me during the night and left me in the woods.”
He looks down at my dress. Perhaps only now does he notice I’m in the same one as the night before. Incredulous, he asks, “You joined a Bandolian troupe?”
I bite my lip and nod.
“Why?”
Unable to meet his eyes, I say, “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
He studies me, and I’m worried he may change his mind. I hold my breath, waiting.
“You’ll have to ride with me,” he finally says, putting an end to the conversation.
The ride is morepleasant than I expected. I’ve never had a chance to explore Lauramore, and I take in the sceneryeagerly, wondering more about the plants and the animals that live here.
“What does a grim boar look like?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at Galinor. “I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never seen one.”
He scans the area around us. The ground is wet here, and we pass bogs of thick, green-tinged mud. Lauramore’s forest is completely different from Primewood’s. Deciduous trees grow amongst the firs, and their evergreens are nowhere near as large or as tall as ours. Up higher, where the palace sits, the terrain is beautiful, but here, below the terraces, the forest is dark and thick—seeming almost malevolent.
“They’re like the boars in Glendon or Primewood,” Galinor answers. “But they are larger, gray, and emit a horrible stench.”
I lift my nose and sniff the air. I don’t smell anything except the pleasant horse scent of Galinor’s bay and the dark, forest soil.
“Do you think you could stop squirming?” Galinor asks as I adjust Danver in my arms.
The fox wriggles against me, tired of being held, but I don’t want to put him down in this part of the woods. Again, I glance over my shoulder. When my eyes meet Galinor’s, he gives Danver a pointed look.
“He’s restless,” I explain.
“Then let him go.”
I shift so I can get a better look at Galinor. “So a grim boar can eat him? I don’t think so.”
Galinor snorts out a mirthless laugh. “They’re scavengers, not hunters.”
“Best not take any chances.”
Emery gave me a pack of food this morning, and I twist back to pull a few strips of dried meat out of the pouch that is tucked in Galinor’s bag. If I can distract Danver with food, he may settle down.
Galinor clasps my arm as I stretch around him. “What are you doing?”
I have Danver in one arm, and he’s frantically squirming to get free. My opposite leg is in the air for balance, and I just need to reach a little farther…
