Chapter Eight
Loreleivnna
Vines strewn with dried corn, amaranth, and gayfeather line the walkway to Svitaeryl’s sliver of the Eternal River. Low-strung acorns, walnuts, and dried cranberries invite critters to partake in the second week of the festival, when the whole community pitches in to help with the harvest.
An acorn falls into my path, and I pick it up, pausing to offer it to a fluffy orange tuskrabbit lingering on the side of the path. Their population always blooms this time of year, thanks to their sensitivity to moonpetal pollen.
The sound of hoofbeats stalls behind me.
Pikr and I haven’t spoken since Father stuck us together two days ago, but he’s become my shadow, ever-present and watching; except shadows are not as noisy as the roots-cursed centaur.
Every friend I greet, he scares away with his scowl.
Everywhere I go, clip-clop, clip-clop. Yesterday, when I’d tracked down Dhek to extend an invitation, Pikr had snorted and stomped his hoof.
At least his foul mood stole Dhek’s attention from my nervous attempt at flirting, which is challenging enough without a grumpy Guardian scaring all the cute creatures away.
I’ve never been on a date. When I told Dhek this, he’d responded with a kind smile and came up with the adorable plan to prepare pumpkin patties in the wild patch.
At the end of the path, a short hill overlooks the tributary, where wild sugar squash and pumpkins have taken over the banks.
The Eternal River circles the earth territory of Lande, with branches latticing throughout the landscape.
It flows all the way from the watery realm of Hydra and the healing Soul Springs they share with Fyre, our neighboring territory.
Although our branch is diminutive and the healing properties of the springs are extremely diluted, it’s enough to encourage life.
The earthen smell of the roots and the smashed rinds of picked-over fruits send a tickle of pleasure down my spine.
I sink my toes into the loose dirt and inhale, my hand instinctively covering my heart.
I love this time of year, when the cycle of life and death offers nourishment to the soul of the earth.
I swear I can sense the gratitude of the land in the musky aroma.
“Your two-hoofed fopweed friend appears to be missing,” Pikr muses.
My hands curl into fists, my toes sinking deeper in the fertile soil. I turn to face him, finding his grin smug and his eyes glittering with the promise of a fight.
“You will not ruin this for me, vile old centaur.” He had his chance. I was right there for the taking. He rejected me. “Save your spite for someone who’s earned it.”
Pikr’s grin falters. His arms cross, and his weight shifts between all four hooves. “I am not spiteful.”
“Good. Resenting me because you dropped the vineball would be unreasonable.” I flip my hair over my shoulder and cross my arms. “I’m an innocent princess who, for whatever reason, a peeled King has entrusted into the care of a barbarian like you.”
"Innocent?” Pikr scoffs, stomping closer.
I suppose, if we’re splitting roots, I did trick him in the tavern, but that was mostly an accident. Still, I shrug dismissively.
“This is Eldrunna.” He steps closer. The scent of smoldering amber and linseed wax fills my lungs. “Close your eyes and lob an axe over your shoulder and you'll behead a King with an unwed princess."
“Rosy,” I chirp, though his insinuation spears right through my chest. “If I’m nothing special, then you’ll have no problem watching me court Dhek without stomping around like an ill-tempered foal.”
Pikr growls. He’s drifted so close that I have to tilt my head nearly ninety degrees to meet his scowl with my own.
“Loreleivnna!” Dhek’s voice chimes from the direction of the wild pumpkin patch.
I narrow my gaze at Pikr, holding my ground. He leans in, and for a moment it feels like he’s going to snag me around the waist and toss me over his shoulder again. His eyes flicker to my lips. My heart flutters and my next breath stumbles on its way out of my throat.
“There you are,” Dhek chirps. He glances between us, then steps back. “Apologies, let me know when you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now.” But my gaze is still captive to Pikr, my body still tense in preparation for his manhandling.
“Okay,” Dhek replies simply.
With an annoyed huff, Pikr breaks our stare-down first, and the air whooshes from my chest. He steps back, giving Dhek an ostensibly polite nod before stalking off.
“Hey there,” Dhek greets me again, and heat climbs my neck as I turn to accept the full brunt of his attention.
“Greetings,” I respond. He closes the space between us, smelling of pastry dough and bitter fig jam as he tucks a wisp of hair behind my ear. An anxious giggle escapes me, and I cover my mouth.
I’m used to attention, and I know many would like to bed me for impure reasons, but I’ve never been interested in anyone more than a silly crush.
When we were saplings, I’d heard rumors that Dhek had a crush on me, but I’d never seen proof other than the same charm he brings to every interaction I’ve witnessed him have.
We have the foundation of a fledgling friendship, and he’s unyieldingly kind.
He’d be a solid rock for his mate, whether that’s me or some other lucky creature.
Without meaning to, my gaze drifts to Pikr, who found a shady hollowoak tree to read beneath. His brow hasn’t unfurrowed, and his eyes are full of the same ire when they snap to mine.
“Hey.” Dhek takes my chin between his knuckles and tilts me back toward him. “Ignore the brawn. A Guardian can’t interfere so long as I do nothing to worry him. It’s just you and me, okay?”
His copper eyes search mine, and I take a calming breath. It isn’t fair of me to stand here thinking about Pikr. Dhek made time for me, and he deserves my full presence, especially if we are to eventually be mated.
I take a deep breath and smile. “Okay.”