The Dragon of Trelian by Michelle Knudsen Read Free Book Online Page B

while he was on an errand.” That was true, technically. “He seemed very nice. I mean, polite. Not that we spent much time talking. He was eager to continue on his errand. Not that he said that directly, of course, but I could tell. He wasn’t rude or anything.” This was terrible. “I mean, we just exchanged a few words. He seemed very nice.”
    Meg turned away and feigned a deep interest in the remains of her meal. She could feel Serek’s cold eyes staring at her, but he said no more. After a minute she heard Sen Eva ask him a question about his experience with medicinal herbs and, with great relief, felt his focus leave her.
    Had she managed to accomplish anything this evening other than embarrassing herself? She hoped Wilem hadn’t overheard any of that conversational disaster. She glanced up at him and found him looking at her again. Her face flooded with heat. Again.
How red is my face by now? I wonder.
But this time she didn’t look away from him. If she was going to stare at people, she might as well be strong about it. With a mighty effort, she forced herself to smile. He smiled back.
    Gods, but he had a nice smile.
    At the end of dinner, Maerlie rose and invited everyone out to the royal gardens. It was a warm night, and the gardens were wonderful for walking off the effects of a heavy meal or just enjoying the night air. A few of the young men, who perhaps had had a bit too much wine with dinner, decided to attempt the enormous hedge maze, leading many of the others to speculate that a search party would need to be organized before the night was ended. Most of the remaining guests took to the stone benches nestled among the slender, elegant trees of the main garden or walked around admiring the manicured hedges trimmed in the shapes of various animals.
    Meg was looking for Maerlie, to find out what sort of interesting things had happened at her end of the table, when she felt a light touch on her arm. She turned to find Wilem at her side.
    “Wh — hello,” she said stupidly, grateful that she was standing far enough away from the lanterns that he probably couldn’t quite see her blushing this time. “I mean, good evening, Wilem. I’m surprised to see you on your own — I thought you’d be eager to rejoin the prince.”
    “While I enjoy Prince Ryant’s company enormously, I do get to speak with him often, and there are some here tonight whose company I have not yet been able to enjoy nearly enough.” His voice was low and confident, and Meg felt her pulse racing at the sound of it. She knew she was being silly, but she just couldn’t help it. She couldn’t. Wilem was unbelievably charming, and handsome, and he had that
smile,
and here he was, talking to
her,
and not Morgan or Maerlie or the prince or his mother or any of the other important people he could be talking to.
    He offered his arm, and she took it, feeling more than a little as though she were dreaming. They began strolling slowly along one of the tree-lined garden paths. For a while neither of them spoke, and the only sound, other than the muted conversations of other guests, was the night breeze rustling through the leaves. Meg looked down, enjoying the sight of their feet walking in step, side by side. For all her earlier staring, she suddenly wasn’t sure what to do with her eyes. She fought the urge to look up at Wilem. Somehow she felt sure he’d be looking right back at her, and without the table between them, the idea of his face so close to hers made her so nervous and excited it was almost frightening.
    “So,” he said finally, “Princess Meglynne. What would you be doing at this moment had I not lured you away to walk with me?”
    It was so hard to think; half of Meg’s mind was still shouting
He’s talking to me! He’s talking to me!
in giddy delirium. Meg willed her brain to silence and tried desperately to emulate Maerlie’s calm princess demeanor. “Nothing else quite so pleasant, I imagine,” she said