Page 1 of The Ostler's Boy

O nce upon a time, there was a boy—the ostler’s boy.

“And I will be your bravest knight!” he announced excitedly as he thrust the end of his stick into a hay bale.

We’d been playing Swords and Horses since the rooster’s call, and the bitter chill dark began to fade . It was more than a game for children; it was a chance to dream, and dream we did. Of many things, but at the heart of every last one of my thoughts, Willem ólason .

Except, Willem was hardly a boy. He was fifteen and very tall, and I was thirteen and very not, and in the eyes of our empire’s law, that made him a man and me a girl. Still, there were few days I woke without his wild curls on my mind. I would remember how their blond bodies danced in the sunlight the day before or how they shrouded his strangely perfect ears, and, in the mornings, as soon as I opened my eyes, I came alive to listen for movement in the hall. When it was silent, I would hurry down the corridor to the kitchen, sneak by the cook, exit the back door, squeeze myself beyond the blocky hedges, dare the roses and their brutal thorns, and then climb the fence that barred the Castle from the stables in the yard. It was locked until six, but from five until then, I found him. He was always there so early, and I longed to see his face, grinning at the sight of my disobedience. He was the only thing worth waking up for, and since he’d arrived, he was my absolute obsession.

Father’s estate spanned from the furthest northern point of the Oreian Mountains all the way to the shallow forests before the Capitol, ísfjall. The King’s Land, they called it, though more than just the King dwelled within its trees. A few workers and their families lived there as a condition of employment. Some Swords as well, before they married, though the ones who were too young to afford their own accommodations stayed in knights' quarters instead. While most of our staff took residency in the servants’ hall, Willem and his father took refuge in the Lord Commander's old cottage just past the hill.

Ser Elías was a kind man but incredibly private. He rarely leased his home to strangers, so it was natural that his generosity stuck out, especially when Father teased him for his bleeding heart. It took weeks of spying upon them to consume that Elías barely charged them rent and another two to realize it was because they’d recently lost Will’s mother.

For a month after my discovery, I spent the early hours passing through the forest so that I could secretly analyze their personalities and try to force an introduction. They were never there. One day, I realized they were working, and in my finest performance, I stumbled into the barn lost, and the rest was history. Willem walked me home. The next day, I delivered the same act, and it was a third before he expressed his suspicion. On the fourth, we became friends.

On one particular day, the sun was very high. It was well past time to start lessons with my governess, Miss Hellveig, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to find her . I didn’t want her to find me. I wanted to hide within the stronghold of the stables forever and twirl the precious swan feather Willem had given me that morning. I wanted to seek out animals in the clouds with him and argue over which they were, and I wanted to watch his rowdy hair swing with his gallant display of playing my knight. I wanted anything to stay with him. By the end of summer, I was in love.

“You’re getting good at that, Ser Willem,” I teased, brushing the loose hay from my dress. I stood to perch behind him, proudly critiquing his form. “What a noble knight for a noble queen,” I said.

“Aye.”

Will was lost in the battle before him, practicing the flourishes he’d learned from Elías a week prior. He was very unaware of the creeping blush upon my face and very unaware of the nerve I was conjuring in my chest.

“Ser Willem?” I asked, tapping his shoulder.

He turned around but quickly furrowed his brow.

“What?” I begged.

“Why does your face look like that?” he asked. “Are you unwell, Svana? Should I fetch my father? He’s just–”

“No!” I said. It grew hotter. “W-What do you mean why does my face look like this? It offends you, does it?”

“It’s red,” he said. “Like very red. Have you caught the plague?”

“The plague?” I balked. “This north?”

“And it’s twisty.”

“Twisty?” I stuttered through a few more starts before adjusting coldly and straightening my back. “There’s nothing wrong with my face, Willem. This is just my face.”

The stick settled to his side as he pondered me a bit longer. “I think I’d have noticed if it’d always been that bright.”

“Do flatter me more,” I said, rolling my eyes. I couldn't help but touch my cheek. It was on fire. “You think you cannot injure my vanity because we are friends? Well, I say you will be sorely mistaken, Ser. I–”

His hand met my elbow. “Svana, are you well or not?”

I looked at where our skin had met. “...I think so.”

He gave a single nod, letting go to clear his throat. Then he looked around. “...Perhaps you should get on to the library, then? You’re late as it is.”

“I don’t want to go,” I dared.

“Miss Hellveig will be looking for you,” he said.

My eyes glinted at his. “Then let her look. I want to stay here. I want to stay here with you.”

“She’ll look here first,” he added. “She knows we are close. She doesn’t like me.”

“She doesn’t like me either. But you could–”

“Aye. I could hide you,” he said, knowing me. He glanced over my back. “Yes, like I did before? We could spend the afternoon in the woods again. We could skip rocks and discuss horses. I could keep you for myself, but.”

“But you don’t want to?” I asked him. “You want me to be found?”

“I want….” Willem stopped. His face darkened as I stared into his deep-set navy eyes. “I want to see you again tomorrow, Svana,” he said. He brushed a piece of hair back toward the braid. “And the last time I stole you away, we did not speak for days.”

“Not because of me!” I declared.

“Because you are the Princess,” he said. “And I’m a stable buck. I always will be.”

“No,” I argued. “No, you will be my Sword, my brave, undefeated knight. I will–”

“You will be my queen,” he said. “Queens don’t play in stables with ostler boys. They don’t make promises they cannot keep.”

“I will keep it!” I said. “I meant it when I promised you that life. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“You are too kind to me to even care what I want,” he said. “I’m not as good as you. I don’t deserve your charity.”

“Is that a commentary on your status again?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “But I... I do things, Your Highness. I…I socialize with other girls in ways that–”

“Oh, yes.” I laughed. “Willem, please. I do not care that you kiss servant girls,” I lied.

He froze. “You know about them?”

“Them?” I asked. “There’s more than just Lana?”

“Which one is she?” he asked.

I gasped; he chuckled.

“Oh, you fiend!” I clutched the feather to my chest.

“But seriously, she’s the ginger girl?” he asked.

I frowned. “You kissed Kitty, too?”

“I kiss a lot of girls,” he said. “That’s what I’m telling you. You should not be so kind to me; I’ll take advantage of it. It’s in my nature. I’m always up to no good.”

“...Look at me, Will. Look at me. I don’t care about the other girls,” I lied again. “It’s fine. So what if you kiss lots of them?”

“Lots?” he cried. “I’ve kissed two . Maybe three?”

“Maybe? You can’t recall?” I asked. “Such important things, we ladies are, I see.”

“Yes.” He laughed. He gestured his hands to either side of us. “Exactly why you should not be out here with the likes of me. I’m a rascal.”

I watched his lips form every word. “I’m different to you,” I told him.

“Oh, are you?” he asked. “Pray, what deranged notion gave you that idea, Princess?”

I squared my shoulders. “Am I as pretty as they are?” I asked.

“Stop it,” he begged.

“Tell me,” I went on. “Just say no; I’ll go and leave you to... rascal around.”

“Looks don’t matter that way,” he said.

“Oh, so I’m hideous?” I cried.

He groaned. “I did not say that,” he said. “You know you’re beautiful. You know that. I’ve said it before. Convenient, you keep forgetting, yeah?”

“Tell me I’m not special then. Tell me I’m no different than Kitty or Lana. Tell me that I bore you, and I shall leave you alone in your eager isolation.”

“You should go, Your Highness.” His tone put an obvious distance between our words.

“Not the command I gave,” I said, regurgitating something I’d heard Father say. “Only a fool’s attempt to avoid it.”

“I have work to do; you keep interrupting that. People have noticed.” He tossed his weapon to the side. “And your Governess is not kind.”

“Kind?” I asked. “Hellveig? No, Ser. She is not kind, is she?” I scoffed anxiously, shaking my head. “She is quite mean.” A pained noise left the end of my sentence in place of where I’d intended to chuckle.

He knit his brow. “Did she hurt you again?” he asked.

I studied the ground. “No.”

“Svana.” He took my fingers in his palms and examined their knuckles for himself. “Oh, Svana,” he moaned.

I pulled them back to fold together at my skirt. “I said no.”

“You say a lot of things you do not mean,” he said.

“What accusation is that? I’m not a liar, Will.”

“You should tell His Majesty. He would–”

“He would what? What would my father do?” I asked.

“He’s the King,” he said. “He would–”

“So many whispers in these halls; so many bruises upon my arms, my hands, my face. I wonder if he does not already know?” I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I know what he’d say. He’d say…. Iron does not shatter, Svana. You must be strong. You must endure…. Yes, I’m certain that he knows. ”

Willem paused. “Then the Lord Commander?” he asked. “He is of a good nature. He likes you. He would–”

“Ser Elías liked my mother, make no mistake,” I told him.

“That’s not true; he speaks so highly of you.”

“He’s my knight. He must. He was on my mother’s guard and served her in times of war. He respected her. It is his devotion to her ghost and to my father’s crown that he speaks of me now. Duty; nothing else. I’m not important like that as you so kindly said yourself.”

“That isn’t fact,” he replied. He stepped closer. “I did not say that.”

“What did you say then? That I was pretty but not as pretty as Kitty, the girl you can’t remember her name?”

“If we’re to spar words, I said you were beautiful,” he said. “I said beautiful now and before. I’ve only ever said beautiful.”

I nodded. “And what else did you say? What did you promise me, Ser?”

“I–”

“What did you vow? To always protect me? To be my Knight? My Sword? You act as though I am alone in the invention of these things,” I said. “We promised that life to each other. Both of us. We took a vow.”

“We watched the sky, and I said I thought I’d do well in the Knights’ Games.”

“You said, ‘I should like to be a knight one day; I’m very brave,’” I told him, portraying his voice. “You said, ‘I love Oreia more than any Blade. I should like t–’”

“Come, Svana. They were just words.”

“Words?” I gawked. “Is that all our talks have been to you? Words?”

“Ehh. I beg you, Your Highness,” he said. He was frowning. “Is that what you want? You want me to beg? Do not tease me in this way. This? Then? Swords and Horses is a game. I understand that. Don’t confuse me.”

“In what manner do I confuse you, Ser?”

“In that. With the Ser,” he urged. “I’m not a knight; I’m not a lord; I’m not a king. I’m not a man of any title; I never will be.”

“We made a promise!”

“It was just that!” He searched for the answer. “It was just words. A game, Svana. A lofty dream at best.”

“All summer,” I said. He shook his head. “All summer since you and your father arrived, I–I–! You’re my friend. My–? You’ll say you meant nothing of what you’ve promised me?”

“I will always protect you,” he said. “But I am limited in how that looks in the future.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he asked. “Because. Because of what I am. Because of what I’m not. Because I’m fifteen now, and I may go off to war and die tomorrow. And sure, I might live to take over as ostler when my father goes, but it’s not a guarantee. We’ve moved around a lot. What if your father replaces us before then? What if something comes up? What if the Plague does make it this far north? I’ll be lucky if we stay near King’s Land, but if we can’t…. We won’t see each other if I’m not here.”

“My father won’t fire yours; I won’t allow it,” I said. “And I won’t allow you to get the Plague.”

“Even if you controlled that sort of thing, what about when you marry and have children with some duke?” he asked. “I should be happy for you?”

“What will it matter if you’re my Knight?” I wondered. “I’ll see you every day.”

“But I won’t be,” he said.

“By your own decision if not. I offer it to you on a silver plate; you refuse?” I asked.

“You cannot make me a knight,” he said.

“I can do whatever I want!” I snapped.

I reached into the dirt and lifted his stick, pointing it at him. Willem took a step back and showed me his palms.

“If I wanted to, I could bind you to the Oath right here, right now,” I warned. “And what choice would you have but to bow to your Queen and rise her Sword?”

Neither of us said anything. I glanced at the shaking branch and dropped it.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I’m so embarrassed.”

Willem grinned.

“Stop it,” I said. “It’s not funny. I will not be mocked for my passion. And I will not be wed and bred like some horse. I will make my own choices, just like you. So. So there!”

“...You do mean it?” he asked. “You do promise to… to knight me? I’m not even a squire.”

“Your dreams are not a game to me, Ser.” I stopped. “I’m sorry. Willem,” I corrected. “You confided in me whom you wished to be. It is a good Queen that helps her soldiers be it. It matters not to me if you’re a squire; your heart and your bravery are where the purpose lies.”

“The squire thing might matter to Ser Elías.”

“When I am Queen ,” I said. I rocked on my heel, gathering my hands for courage. I fought to draw the nerve back into my throat. “You will be my Knight. My bravest Knight. My Sword. No one else's anything. Oreia needs good men, and that is a fact that everyone, even the Lord Commander, will have to live with. Do you understand?”

His lips moved, bending his smile to something more.

“Is that right, Your Highness?” he asked.

“Yes, that is right. Unless you keep kissing servant girls and not me,” I spat.

As I bit my lip, his eyes found it.

“Princess,” he whispered.

“All this time, we’ve been alone,” I reminded him. “Is it not obvious that’s what I want from you? Do I have to beg? I’m certainly not above it.”

“I thought maybe…” He took a shallow breath. “You want… You’d allow me to kiss you?”

“Yes. For a price,” I said.

“Ah.” His wonder broke. “See? There’s always a catch with you.” He shook his head. “Like when we went swimming, you–”

“No, I–”

“You dropped this,” Will said. He picked up the plume and returned its ivory to my hand.

I hurried. “No, sir,” I said. “You mistake my words.”

He paused. I hesitated.

“Princess… You should– ”

“Kiss me,” I said.

“We shouldn?—”

“Kiss me and kiss no other girls,” I told him. “That’s the cost. That’s all I want. Be mine.”

Willem stewed in the request. After a moment, he looked down at me with pain.

“I cannot.”

“Cannot or do not wish to?” I asked.

“There is no difference, really,” he said.

“Tell that to my heart.”

“I’m trying to be honorable, Your Highness. I cannot promise you what you ask. I am the son of an ostler, an ólason, a meaningless house. And you–” He swallowed. “You are an Eisson. An Eisson princess. The Eisson Princess. You’re made of iron, a royal mare, and I–I’m nothing. You shouldn’t even be here with me. We shouldn’t be friends. You must–”

My fingers slid into his hair, cinching his lips to mine. Possessed by a sensation I had never felt before, I sunk into the kiss. I gathered his shirt into my trembling hands. Willem let out a long breath as we parted, and he rested his forehead to mine.

“Ah, Svana. You wound me.”

“How?” I whispered. I kissed him again. He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Declare yourself to me,” I begged. “Let me accept. I promise that I will.”

“And what is this!?” Miss Hellveig screeched. She grabbed my Knight by his arm.

I leaped to his defense but she was too fast to compete with, even in her frail age. She smacked my arm with her cane, and I reeled back.

“Tell me my eyes have discovered a lie,” she hissed. “That you were not kissing the Princess, boy.”

“He did nothing!” I cried.

“You! You brat! You will be silent.” She snapped a finger at me. “Get to the library now, you insolent thing or His Majesty will hear of your role in this!”

“I asked him to do it!” I told her. “He was only following my order!”

“Asked him!” She choked. “What sin.”

Willem’s breath was rampant, but his face was still. He righted his posture, fueling to look directly into her venomous gaze. I was shocked he did not turn to stone.

“Your eyes do not deceive you, Miss Hellveig,” he said. “I kissed her, but I promise it will not happen again. I remember my place.”

“Do not backtalk me, buck!” she bit. “I’ve heard your lies before. No. No, I have no doubt you’ll remember this time.”

She started to drag him outside. I hurried after, nearly crashing into one of the troughs.

“Stop it!” I yelled. I pulled my skirt from where it’d snagged with a loud rip. “Stop it! Let him go! I command you to let him go!”

“Son?” another voice emerged.

“Mr. ólason!” I felt a tear sting at the corner of my eye. “You must stop her!”

“Father!” Willem called after him, completely diverting the ostler from my command.

“Unhand him, Miss Hellveig!” I called. “It’s my fault!”

“Willem?” Will’s father cried.

He tried grabbing his son, but my governess parried his attempt. She swung around to scold him, and he stepped back.

“What’s happened?” he asked. “What is it, please?”

Hellveig hid Willem behind her.

“Where is the ironsmith, Mr. ólason?” she asked. When he did not answer, she called to the gathering crowd of servants. “The first person to fetch the blacksmith for me wins my good favor.”

No one moved.

Suddenly, it dawned on me, “...Father,” first, as a whisper, “Father!” then louder.

I tore from the yard, past the roses and brilliant stone mares, then through the Castle’s front door. My shoes slipped in the foyer, but I did not fall. One of the suits of armor crashed into the marble path as I cast myself into the large wooden door of His Majesty’s bedchamber, and with the loudest roar I could manage, I heaved, “Father!” nearly out of breath.

“God in Heaven, what is this about?” he asked. He scrambled from the sheets as a dark-haired, unclothed woman fled from his arms and vanished into the adjoining room. Father shielded his body with a robe. “What is it, Svana? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Hell–” I panted, squeezing my dress. “Hellv–! She’s going to hurt him!”

“Who? Who is going to hurt who?” he asked.

Ser Elías appeared at the door. “Your Majesty?” he asked. We met eyes. “Miss Svana? Are you hurt?”

“She’s going to hurt him!” I whined. “Hellveig will hurt him. It was me. It was my fault. Let her hurt me instead! I can take it!”

“Show me,” my father said. He tightened his belt, following as I took off back to the scene.

“There!” I yelled, running and collapsing to my knees in fury and angst.

“Svana!” Elías steadied my frame. “Breathe.”

“There.” I gestured. “Tell her, Father. Tell her she is wrong. Tell her to stop. Willem is my friend.”

“What is this?” the King asked.

His voice carried across the lawn. As he arrived, his eyes traveled the faces who had come to help hold Willem down at the iron’s block and those who simply watched.

Miss Hellveig smiled grimly at me before fussing with the head of her cane.

“Your Majesty.” She curtsied. “Do forgive me for disrupting your afternoon so cryptically. Miss Svana should not have troubled you.”

“Tell her it is wrong!” I yelled.

She tsked at me. “Your daughter was late again this morning,” she revealed. “Shall I tell you where she was? In front of all these people? Or can I just proceed?”

“You hag!” I cried.

My father’s eyes widened, horrified. “Svana Paige! Your tongue.” He turned back toward Will. “...Let’s start with what the trouble is,” he said, curling his hand. “Come here, son.”

The man holding Willem let go of him so that he could approach my father. He did so with a bow.

“Your Majesty.” His face was streaked with two clean, wet lines that cut through the evidence of his position.

“Your name is Willem,” Father said. He glanced back at me. “That makes you the ostler’s boy, then?”

“Aye,” Will nodded.

“My daughter is very fond of you,” he said.

Willem didn’t react.

Father nodded. “Everything is alright. Tell me. What’s this commotion really about?”

Will looked past the King to me, barely blinking as he explained. “I can only offer you my sincerest apologies for my crime, Your Majesty.”

He nodded another time. “Crime? I see. You wish not to confess to it?”

“I wish not to offend Her Highness further, Your Majesty,” he said.

Father sighed. “I see.”

Willem’s father nodded once from the side.

“Tell me, anyway,” mine said. “What crime do you stand accused?”

“It’s not his crime,” I called. “It’s mine. Tell him, Willem. Tell him the truth.”

“Svana,” Elías whispered, squeezing my shoulder. “ Don’t make it worse.”

“I,” Will started. He lifted his chin. “I kissed the Princess, sir.”

There was a collective gasp as I tried to yell over it.

“That’s not true! I kissed him! I kissed him! ” I shrugged the knight from my arm. “I did!” I told him. He didn’t reply. “It was me.”

Instead, a weird and stale silence fell over us with the King’s risen hand. After a second, he let out a loud, boisterous laugh.

“A kiss?” he asked. “Is that all?”

I exhaled.

“Is that all?” Miss Hellveig cut back. Her head cocked to the side, and her teeth stood on each other in distress. “Is that all, Your Majesty?”

“They’re children,” he returned. “What of it?”

“Svana is a child, yes. Obviously. Willem is not,” she said.

“He’s barely older than her,” Father replied.

“Yes, but he’s five and ten, as I recall. He’s old enough to serve in the war,” Hellveig said. “And she’s not in season. This must be punished.”

“Punished?” His Majesty asked, rolling his eyes. “What should I do to him? Hang him?”

“I would never suggest hanging a man over a kiss,” Hellveig said, but before anything else, she added, “But it was more than a kiss. They were practically fornicating in the stables, Your Majesty.”

“That’s not true!” I cried.

She went on. “And this is an offense that continues to happen.”

“That’s not true!” I yelled. “We only kissed the once!”

“I wonder,” she added. “I wonder if the King does not address this slight against his only heir’s virtue, when we should expect her to lose it? Sooner rather than later, of course. That’s a theory, yes.”

I gasped. “How dare you!”

She shook her head. “How dare I? It's a horrible thought, isn’t it, Your Highness? But, then again, I did see it quite often when I was at the school. More than I should have for so many ladies of worth.”

My father steepled his hands. “Explain your rationale.”

Her tongue took another sharp click as she motioned between us.

“A young stable buck gets away with touching the Princess. No matter how slight, mind you, how soon will it be before he tells his friends back in town? How soon before those conniving little whisperers on ísfjall’s streets learn of the Princess’s soft spot for poor boys who don’t respect her rank? It may not be this one that mounts her like a common filly, but someone will, and she has proven that she will take the hit toward her reputation, and yours, of course, at first chance. Just look at her, pleading for him with such an audience. Very befitting, yes?”

“Elías,” Father summoned him.

The Sword left my side and approached the King. “Aye?”

“What do you believe?” he asked.

His shoulders danced. “I believe they’re kids, Nikolai.”

Hellveig narrowed her eyes at that. “If there is no consequence for the sin, Svana will, at best, burn in Hell for whatever else she commits.”

“Hell?” Elías croaked. Father pressed his hand to his shoulder to calm him down.

“No,” I said, rocking my head. “No, that isn’t true.”

“If it doesn’t hurt, she won’t learn,” Hellveig said.

“That’s not true!” I whined. “I promise! I have learned my lesson. I’ve learned it!”

She offered me an ingenuine pout.

Father said, “It’s no lie that you came highly recommended, Miss Hellveig. I am unsure of what should happen here.”

Elías leaned over. Whatever exchange they shared resulted in a clash of responses. Father glared back at him; Elías didn’t say anything else.

“I come so very praised because I take my own ability as seriously as I do the women I am raising,” Hellveig said. “A strong woman does not tolerate rumors. Do you want a Queen or pawn?”

“It’s not a rumor,” I told her. “I confessed. A Queen is honest and–”

“Svana,” Father said to silence me. “Do as you see fit,” he said. His hand swept once forward and then once back in a command to proceed.

Ser Elías spun on his boot and collected me, trying to remove me from the yard. I fought it, kicking and screaming at him– clawing at his arm.

“What? No! Father! Please!” I strained, trying to escape. “Stop it!” I yelled. “Release me! Father! Father!”

Miss Hellveig was very glad of her victory. She was triumphant, and my father was indifferent. He stalked past us back into the Castle; he didn’t even look at me.

“Father!”

Hellveig had the man collect Willem again, and I felt faint.

“No!” I fought.

I forced my fingertips beneath the leather of Elías’s gauntlet, scratching his arm deeply enough that he let go with a sound, but before I could rush Hellveig and leap onto her back or strike her with whatever I could find, his shape barricaded himself in front of me.

I screamed at him. “Stand down and move!”

The ironsmith was rigid as he swallowed. He picked up the skew left resting in the flame —the Eisson’s Crest skew and brand for our team.

“Lord Commander!” I ordered in rage. I tried to circumvent him in both directions, and though his expression told me that he did care, his body would not let mine around. “You will move, or I will move you!”

But he did not. He said, “Close your eyes, Svana,” but I refused and began to strike him. He knelt, coiling his arms around me, and found my ear. He whispered, “There is nothing you can do but remember this moment for what it is.”

“You must stop them!” I begged.

“Remember this moment, and when you are Queen,” he said, “give justice a louder voice in your court.”

“Willem!” I cried.