Unraveled by Julie Daines

Author:Julie Daines
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LDS, clean, fantasy, christian, fantasy, romance, witch, prince, mysterious, magic, shoes, miracle, wish, cripple, YA, enchanted, second chance, court, kingdom, royalty, riches, rags, love, triangle, happy ever after
Publisher: Covenant Communications, Inc.
Published: 2014-01-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

You must crack the nut before you can eat the kernel.

Two days had passed since the boar hunt, and Bronwen had seen nothing of Lord Urien. No one came from the castle to collect her. Nor did she have any indication of when—if ever—she might see him again. A large shank of boar meat arrived for the Fib and Flounder’s cook, and the innkeeper raised his prices again. That was the closest she came to anything associated with Urien.

“Maybe something happened to him,” Gwenna suggested. “He could be sick.”

Bronwen had wondered this too. But why would no one tell her?

Gwenna and Bronwen had pelted Gwil with questions about Urien’s whereabouts. Gwil spent most of his time training with the King’s Men now that he’d proved himself a capable archer. Gwil told them Urien had been to the archery range the day after the hunt, but he hadn’t seen or heard anything from him since.

Rhys had given her a week to tell Urien, but how could she tell him if she never saw him? Perhaps Urien’s feelings for her had changed after she’d yelled at him on the hunt. If so, she might never need to tell him. Rhys may have worked himself up for nothing.

Bronwen and Gwenna went to watch Gwil practice, but there was no sign of Urien or Rhys. When Dai showed up, Gwenna lost interest in watching for Urien and ended up chatting nose to nose with Dai. If he had his eye on another girl, Bronwen saw no hint of it in the way he leaned in close to Gwenna. Bronwen left and walked home.

The moment she entered the inn, the innkeeper seized her and steered her into the common room. There sat a man wearing a thick canvas apron and holding a heavy bag of tools.

“The king’s shoemaker,” the innkeeper said. “Says he won’t leave till he sees you.”

A pox on that determined cordwainer! He was very diligent about his work. Bronwen couldn’t avoid him now. This whole thing with the shoemaker was pointless. Even if he made her the finest shoes in the kingdom, she could never wear them.

Perhaps if she removed only one shoe he could take his measurements. But she’d never worn only one for more than a few moments. She dared not risk it.

Bronwen curtsied to the tradesman. “How kind you are to wait for me.” And by kind, she meant stubborn.

The cordwainer plunked Bronwen down in a chair, then reached for her feet. She jerked them away, tucking them under her seat.

Her fingers rubbed at her throat. “I’m sorry to tell you that . . . I have been out walking. In the dirt. And mud. My feet are a mess. I couldn’t possibly show you such filthy feet. It wouldn’t be proper.” At the man’s scowl, she quickly added, “It might sicken you.”

The cordwainer grunted, his face hard and surly. It was a toss-up as to who took the least pleasure in this between him and Bronwen. He reached again for her feet, and she swung them away.

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