Page 122 of The Pumpkin Bride

She tipped her head and couldn’t hold back a smile.

Brother Oswald had been one of the first to arrive and hadn’t been without snack or drink since. With his frequent booming laughter and bawdy jokes, he was a welcome change from the prim Archbishop of Briarveil.

Across the meadow, Bram caught her gaze, then waved. The day had been a success. The night would follow suit—especially when she slipped away to pay a follow-up visit to the autumn sprite. A diversion would be required, however, or Bram might give chase.

She was sure she’d think of something.

For now, though—dancing.

Chapter 37

For once in his life as an orc, Bram was not running hot.

Hundreds had crossed Grimroot Farm’s threshold, sending constant shivers along his spine. The pace had slowed in the last hour, thank the saints. Otherwise he might’ve needed a second cloak.

The minstrels played a lively song, the lyrics just skirting the edge of bawdy. Many a Hollower kicked up their feet and danced in the meadow. As Marigold threaded through the crowd toward him, the music shifted to a different beat. Instinctively, the crowd split into lines to begin the Sway.

She grabbed his hand. “Shall we show them how it’s done?”

His grip tightened around hers. “We shall, so long as you remember your left from right.”

She bumped her shoulder to his biceps. “Ha ha. Keep a tight grip on me? With this headwrap, an ox could be charging at me and I wouldn’t know. But at least I’m demure.”

The music began in earnest, and Bram led her through the steps. Saints, he’d forgotten how much fun dancing within a crowd could be, the infectious nature of joy. The dance lines shifted and curved, and now they were dancing in circles wrapped round each other. He held hands with Marigold on one side and Beatrix Brumet, the bookseller’s daughter, on the other. As Bram, he’d purchased many a book from her father to keep his mind occupied while away from Marigold, but tonight was the first time she’d met Jask.

As the minstrels sped up the tune, the circle gallivanted faster, until it was time for the final turn, kick, and lift. In the center of the field, Bram lifted Marigold into the air. The setting sun lit her with its bold streaks of crimson and orange.

Her smile, which was all for him, outshone twilight’s pageantry.

The seconds stretched like a century. He wanted to hold on to this bright feeling forever. And, depending on what she said about the ring in his pocket, he might just be able to. As the crowd’s applause exploded, Bram lowered Marigold, savoring the slide of her body against his. Yes, after the crowds dispersed tonight, he would ask his princess to be his bride.

Above him, a falcon screamed.

The scarlet jesses streaming behind signaled the raptor was one of Garrick’s. The brief joy he’d felt in the dance curled inward like the petals of a fading chrysanthemum.

Grim determination took its place.

“We must go.” If Sir Kevin or any other knight wanted to whisk Marigold away, they’d have to go through him first. “You need to hide. Sir Kevin approaches.”

“When?”

He pointed at the circling falcon. “Soon.”

She followed his gaze. “How does a falcon herald Kevin’s arrival?”

“I struck a bargain with the royal falconer.”

“I have many questions.” She raised herself onto her toes and kissed him. “But I won’t scurry into the dark, Bram. I prefer to walk in the sun.”

“It’s twilight.”

“I didn’t mean literally.” She clasped his biceps. “I am a princess, which comes with privileges and authority. Kevin is not, in fact, the boss of us. And I have magical gifts, which grants me power beyond laws and protocols. Before my time here, I didn’t have the confidence to carve my own path. Now I do.”

This stubborn, beautiful woman.

“Was it the baking or the laundry that boosted your confidence?”

“’Twas the butter. If I can churn cream into golden deliciousness, I can do anything, including facing down the prince’s thug.” Marigold’s eyes searched the crowd. “Where is he?”