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"I... I look forward to it as well, Miss Lily," Posco stammered, and then scolded himself inwardly. Lily had told him already not to call her 'Miss,' and here he was doing it again! It was so difficult speaking to her with all the others around, yet it felt good to have some company. She had leaned closer to him and strands of her hair fell past her ears and into her face. She had a very pretty little face, the firelight flickering across its softness. He liked that face turned towards him, those eyes looking up at him. And she said she was looking forward to riding with him. A smile came to his face and he felt blissfully happy.
Blanco sat at the furthest reaches of the room on a little stool, his knees pulled up to his chin and his eyes filled with mix feelings. He watched Lily's every move, admiring her easy grace and her beauty. And then she leaned closer to Posco and looked into his eyes. Blanco moaned softly and dropped his head, pain conquering him. If Lily ever loved anyone he knew it would not be him. To have his twin brother as a rival was unbearable, yet it could not be avoided. There was nothing to do now but give up; Lily couldn't ever care for him.
No! It was not over yet. He could not give up just because she looked at Posco and not at him. He would win her heart yet, her sweet and gentle heart. Posco would have his chance in the morning, but tomorrow afternoon it would be his chance and he would make Posco look a dull, ugly hobbit. He started when he looked at them again. Their eyes were still locked and Posco was beginning to smile. The firelight was doing something that Blanco did not like. He would bring Posco back to his aunt's house as soon as possible. He could not stay with Lily like this, or he would win.
Blanco hurried back across the room but not to where Posco sat. Rather, he went to Marcho and interrupted the conversation he was having with Marin, though not in an impolite way. To comply with his mother's wishes he could not leave the Inn with Posco until Marcho did. "Marcho," he whispered urgently, "supper is almost over and it's getting dark. Don't you think it's time we were getting back?"
In normal circumstances Marcho would have been all too glad to leave the noisy Common Room full of annoying people, but he was enjoying Marin's company and was loathe to go. "Blanco," he said sourly, "you are entirely too impatient. We have daylight left before we need go. Besides, your aunt's home is not far. We needn't worry of it growing too late."
Blanco's face fell. Posco had a better chance at winning now, spending these minutes in the firelight by Lily. No, no, he could not let him win. He went over to the next table and sat down beside Posco, everything within him burning with determination, though outwardly no sign of it showed. He would not let Posco win.
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