Page 15 of The Ostler's Boy

B y the time I caught him and his steed, Mr. Evergreen had delivered us to an open field. The blades of grass were profoundly emerald, embroidered with hues of blue and white that held the crescent moon and heavens.

I was wasted; my breathing was difficult as Tails slowed to a stop near Edith. A calvary of large-based oak trees surrounded us, spitting from the heavy mist and fog.

There were also roses. I smiled as they came into view. Although sparse, they decorated the grass like the ones back home.

Cyrus left his horse. He held his hand out for mine.

“Let’s let them rest for a moment. You think?” he asked.

I barely caught the hint of his elation; he was masking his uneven breath. His chest was taught beneath his linen shirt, and the truth that I had noticed his micro-movements made me feel conflicted about being alone with him at night, both of us gasping to fill the air.

Still, I took the offer to dismount with his assistance and tried to do so with a measured amount of grace. Instead, I undercalculated the horrid weight of my gown. Its bell swung itself from him and me forward , resulting in a downright hurling mess.

I fell on top of Mr. Evergreen, and as soon as he was flat and laid out in the field, I dug my glove into the dirt to keep from bosoming his face. His hands had caught me at my hips.

I scrambled to find my feet, furiously brushing the dress free from its invisible, obscene amount of filth.

He said, “Are you alright?” but I was too ashamed to meet his eyes.

“Fine, thanks!” I cried.

Evergreen added something about how I had forgotten to help him up.

“I’m sorry,” I managed.

“That is such a heavy skirt,” he remarked.

“It was very expensive,” I said.

He swept the back of his trousers and instructed our horses not to wander from where they stood; then, he walked further into the meadow.

I looked between him and his obedient flock, reluctantly impressed by how well-liked he was by them.

“You are a clear equestrian,” I commented.

“You’re just now noticing?” he asked.

“No, I—” Intrusive thoughts of rakedom dared to rise. “I meant, you’re gifted, it would seem.”

“You humble me,” he replied.

“Now that—” I paused. “That is the first real Oreian thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“What is?” he asked.

“You humble me,” I explained. “My favorite knight says it near every day.”

“Ah, yes. Ser Willoughby,” he said. His accent was there with each of the Sword’s vowels. “He seems nice.”

“Ser Willoughby? Nice? Ha! Heavens, no. I mean, yes, sure, he is nice, but no. That’s not the Blade in which I’m speaking of.”

“It’s not?” he asked.

“No. You haven’t met the one, I mean.”

“You mean Ser Elías,” Cyrus said.

“Yes, I do,” I replied . Curiosity begged a smile. “…Have you met my Eli?” it asked. “You’d know it. He’s the big one of the two I traveled with. Quiet. Older.” I waved my hand over my face. “Constant frown.”

He looked at me. “Yes, I know the one. I’ve been near him with you.”

“Splendid!” I said. I cleared my throat. “Apologies, sir, for getting excited.”

“You’re very fond of him,” he said.

“I did say he was my favorite, did I not?” I asked. “My father’s, too. And, Ser Elías is our Lord Commander. That means he’s charged with delegating and appointing knights; he—Oh, I suppose if you’re a swordsman, you know all that.”

“Aye, I know.”

“Eli counts for two Swords in himself.”

“Eli,” Cyrus said.

“Gregor,” I offered, “Ser Gregory Elías is his name. He’s been with my father since I was a child…Nay, longer, but since I can recall and such. Further. Served my mother before she...I do think you’ll find he’s nice once you get him talking. A bit cold at first.”

Evergreen hummed, disinterested. “No offense, but I rarely remember things like that. I’ll likely forget your knight, and I don’t predict a conversation between him and myself anytime soon.”

“That’s a rather interesting tale,” I said.

“What is?” he asked.

“That you’d forget Ser Elías. You knew his name before I said it.”

“What? Because he’s important to you, he must be to me?” he asked. “I see you’re that kind of princess.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you imply; however, you’ve done nothing but present yourself as a man with recall.”

“What?” He tsked. “And how?”

“Why are you angry I’ve complimented your memory?” I asked. There were crickets chirping. “You learned my maid’s name,” I said. “And used it. To her face.”

He leaned in. “I spoke to her. One generally addresses a person by name when they do that.”

“You spoke to Miss Jocelyn because she was dropping my gown, and you did not have to help her, yet you did,” I said.

“And the other option? Let it fall?”

“What do you care? You thought it was a tablecloth,” I said. “You hate it.”

“I don’t hate it on you,” he said. “Just when it was bundled.”

I felt my waist. “You don’t dislike it on me?”

Mr. Evergreen followed my hand with his eyes. They fluttered back to my face.

“Are you suggesting I Iook… good?” I asked. A blatant sense of victory filled my chest. Somewhere, my inner monologue screamed to abort before I was ruined.

“You need to hear that you’re beautiful?” he asked. “You know you are; you’re told it every day.”

“I am not,” I said. “How dare you!”

“How dare I what? Know there’s no way that you make it a single day without someone praising your good looks?”

I scoffed. “Oh, how would you even formulate that theory, sir?”

“I have eyes, don’t I?” he said. “You’re radiant; that’s fact.”

“Are you—?” I stopped. “Are you insulting me or flirting with me, sir?”

Cyrus frowned. “You wish,” he said.

“No, I do not!”

Then he smirked.

“What?” I asked.

“What, what?” he replied.

“I— I’m confused.”

“That seems to be your default,” he said.

“Oh! You’re a rotten sort of foul, aren’t you?” I asked. I gestured at his expression. “Do you wake up like this, or do you have to work to be so facetious?”

“Tell me about the ball,” he said.

“No.”

“No?” he asked.

“No.” I braced myself. “I said I would not speak of him.”

“I didn’t ask you to speak of Sameer,” Mr. Evergreen explained. “I asked about the ball.”

I decided to be difficult. “It was beautiful,” I said, using his word. “Radiant, you might say.”

“Oh, you liked it, did you?” he asked.

“Yes. Very formal,” I added. “I’m sure few expenses were spared to honor my face.”

“And that’s what makes it beautiful?” he asked, moving a single foot forward. “That it cost a lot?”

“No,” I said, too proud. I puffed my chest, matching his step. “I liked the color palette. There was a lot of white, which reminds me of snow.”

“You would like the winter.”

“I liked all the golden accents as well. Together, things matched my ugly tablecloth dress.”

“I did not say it was ugly,” he said.

“And I liked the veining in the marble floor. The ballroom back home has wood. Oh! And I liked the swan!”

“What swan?” he asked.

“The ice swan! It was in the center of the feast. Which, I felt, was particularly nice.”

“You would like the bird,” he said.

“I do like birds and winter,” I told him. I narrowed my eyes; he did his. “What’s wrong with swans?”

He laughed. “They’re notoriously mean.”

“Is this about this morning?” I blurted. “I demand that you forgive me!”

“What?” He rolled his eyes. “You can’t demand my forgiveness. Forgiveness is earned.”

“Then I demand that you let me earn it!” I said instead. I stomped my shoe. “Or don’t! See if I care!”

I went to turn, but he caught my arm. He let go and sat on the ground.

“What are you doing now?” I asked.

Cyrus propped one of his legs up and rested his arm over the knee. “It’s about mean birds,” he said.

I looked down at him. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Sit down,” he said. He pointed to his left.

“I assumed you were a lord. I was wrong,” I explained. “I would say I apologize, but I don’t believe I’ve insulted you. You carry yourself well. Not! Argh!” I bit my teeth. “Not that someone who isn’t high-born cannot be expected to do such a thing, but it’s just—” I took a deeper breath. “Do you have to sit like that? Can you not stand?”

“I’d rather sit,” he said.

“Right. Well. I just.” I was flustered at his position. “I don’t want you to keep emphasizing the differences in our class.”

“Why? They exist,” he said.

“They don’t matter though,” I replied.

“Oh, they matter. Maybe not to you. You’re at the top of things,” he said. “For example, I wasn’t invited to your mean bird ball. Though, it’d be hilarious if I went. Could you imagine everyone’s faces?” he asked.

“I’m not responsible for the guestlist, nor am I sure why we are fighting! If you wanted to attend a ball, I’m sure no one would be upset.”

“Ha!”

“Based solely upon the ladies and their conversations, I would wager many of them would—” I stopped. “Never mind.”

“No, no,” Cyrus said. His grin slowly came to life. “Don’t think you're off the hook so easy. I think I should blush, Your Highness. Did you speak of me at your little dance? What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything,” I said. “You’re the scoundrel here.”

“Now I’m a scoundrel?” he asked. “Grand.”

I felt rude. “I—Alright, if you must know, I may have said I knew you, but only after you were brought up. Don’t worry, I didn’t blow your cover about the square.”

“What about the square?” he asked.

I widened my eyes. “Uh, when you lied about knowing me?”

“That was something else,” he said. “Now. How was I brought up? Which lady was it who evoked my name first? Was she cute?”

I shook my head. “You are a rake, aren’t you?”

“A rake?” he asked. “Is that what they said?”

“N-No.”

“Are you sure, Your Highness? I slithered my way into your conversation somehow . Surely, if you were speaking illy of me?—”

“What? No, I would never!”

“You would never?” he asked. “You just accused me of being a rake.”

“I didn’t— They said?—”

“They said what specifically?”

I growled. “You are insufferable! Stop prodding me! Ladies should not divulge such things!”

“It must be very crass to tie you in knots,” Cyrus declared. He stood but only to circle me. “Fear not, my pretty little fowl, you don’t have to tell me what they said. I will guess. You tell me if I am right.”

“Lor-Er. Mr. Evergreen.” My throat tightened.

“They told you I was dangerous.” He dragged his gaze over my shape.

“Dangerous?” My face lost its color. “No, they said…”

“They said I was too sociable with women.”

“… Are you?” I asked.

He crossed his arms. “Am I?”

I scanned the treeline, taking a step back. “Please, sir. I said nothing bad of your name.”

“Nothing?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I replied.

“What did the ladies say?” he asked.

“They only said that you were very handsome!”

“Handsome?” he said, unconvinced.

“Yes,” I swallowed. “Yes. And one said you were nice, but she would…Please do not make me say it.”

He cracked, breaking into a low chuckle. “Oh! Your face!” he cried. “The look on it!”

“...What?”

Cyrus relaxed, refolding his arms. “I was messing with you, of course. I’m a gentleman, I assure you.”

“What is wrong with you?” I croaked, gathering and throwing my dress at the ground. “Are you trying to send me to an early grave?”

“What’s the problem?” he asked. “It was funny!”

“Funny to whom? We are out here all alone, and I am a lady!”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I was terrified!” I cried. “Oh, my god. My life flashed before my eyes!”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, still amused. “I thought it was funny. You were so worked up. It was a poor joke but a needed one. You really should reconsider disappearing into the forest with strange men. I could be ill-intended, and you are…very….” He paused.

“...Very foolish?” I waited for the end of his thought.

“Na?ve.”

I flailed my arms. “I am not na?ve!” A chill wind passed between us. “Fine. Perhaps I am. At least I’m not a liar,” I said.

“I’ve never lied to you,” he replied.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Who’s to say? But you did lie to the Prince, and he is your self-defined best friend, so I am not hopeful for my fare.”

“I did no?—”

“You said you didn’t know who I was in the square. Yes or no?” I asked.

“I was having an off day,” he explained. “What were the dances like?” he asked.

“The dances?”

“At your ball.”

“Are you evading the accusation now?” I asked.

“You want my answer? Give me yours!”

I stewed. “…I only danced once . It was fast. Too fast. I hated it.”

“With Sam?”

“Yes, with Sam ,” I said. “It would have been strange to entertain anyone else, yes? And even if I wanted to, no one even spoke to me without his direct instruction to do so.”

“I lied to Sam in a moment of panic,” he explained.

“Panic?” I asked. “Panic about what? Me?”

“You want my honesty?” he asked.

“Good lord, yes, sir!”

“I was attracted to you,” he said. “Incredibly so, and I was caught off guard when you touched my arm. Happy?”

I froze. “I was lost.”

“Yes. Still. Generally, I do the approaching when it comes to women, so when you started speaking to me, I was already too focused on what I might say in response to think about anything else. When you identified yourself as Sam’s bride, I...I don’t know. I knew— I knew Sameer would be upset that I didn’t collect him to come meet you, but I…” He let me fill in the blank.

“You what?” I asked.

“A part of me forgot he existed. It didn’t want to collect him.”

“...Did you know of Agatha?” I asked.

Cyrus stretched his arm across his chest. “The dance was fast, you said?”

“Incredibly,” I replied. “Eventually, we slowed, but it was not at all what I expected or how I learned to dance back home. Sameer is your closest friend. I’m sure he would’ve understood if you explained the hesitation.”

“He did,” he explained. “Before he realized you were Apple Girl.

“I don’t love that name,” I said.

“Sam is sensitive. Don’t tell him of this conversation. It shouldn’t be happening, but you asked me for honesty; I gave it. Please don’t punish it.”

“Sam would not care,” I said. “And ultimately, it was an honest mistake. I’m not so childish that your…reception to my appearance should affect our relationship.” I swallowed.

“I think I know your prince a little better than you do. He can be possessive,” he explained. “He’s used to getting what he wants, and he called you his wife within seconds of meeting you. He wants you.”

“What do words and nicknames matter?” I asked. “He turned around to feed apples to—” I gasped. “Were those the apples you bought?”

“I had nothing to do with the scene you discovered. I shared my bounty with him, but they weren’t a special purchase for his evening,” he said. He sighed. “Look. I’m being transparent with you, but not without risk. I missed the opportunity to tell Sameer about our interaction; I didn’t know what to say, and now he knows that I purposely hid you, which is exactly what I did not want.”

“Oh,” I eased. “Oh,” I realized. “I caused trouble for you then.”

“And only,” he said. “But Sam and I have talked since. Otherwise, he would’ve been cross with you at your ball. Right? And was he?”

“No…In fact, he was really happy, I thought. I don’t know. We shared a moment where—Wait a second!” I cried. “You tricked me! I specifically stated I would not speak of him to you, you weasel!”

“Weasel?” Cyrus laughed. “That one’s new. I wish I could frame it for my wall.”

“New and rather fitting, I think. You tricked me into speaking my mind!”

“No one could ever trick you into that,” he dared.

“What does that mean?” I spat back.

“It means you give your opinion too freely and without incentive. Come.” He flipped his palm.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” I asked.

“Take it,” he suggested. “Or don’t. Though it will make it much harder to dance with you if we do not touch.”

“Touch? Dance?” I stopped. “You’re asking me to dance with you?”

He waited, brows peaked and an effortless look on his face.

“...In a field?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “And it’s getting weirder by the second. Kind of wish I hadn’t. Offer’s fading.”

“There’s no music,” I said.

“There doesn’t have to be music to dance, Princess. Though, if you disagree, I can sing badly for you. Just say the word.”

I checked around us for some phantom audience. Sluggishly, I placed my hand into his. There was an instant regret.

Evergreen’s hand felt good under mine. There was a tingling, one that had not been there in my moment with the Prince, even when we first spoke.

Cyrus pulled me into his chest and raveled me into a perfect Oreian Waltz spin. His palm met my side, just below my ribcage, but with such respect that I could scarcely think. Then he looked intently into my eyes.

“Are you familiar with this step?” he asked.

“With our empire’s dance?” I asked. “Yes.”

He didn’t hesitate to continue it, righting me in his grip. My fingers coiled around his calloused hand, the glove barely snagging on its texture.

Cyrus led me back as the choreography decided. I kept pace with him, and for the entirety of the act, neither of us said anything else.

It was just his breathing over mine ; it was just his eyes, just mine; it was just his lead. When it concluded and he let go, his warmth went, too, and left a gap that I longed to fill.

Suddenly, I wasn’t sure if the sensation in my chest—the tightening—was from the bodice or something else .

“…Oof,” I whined, trying to maintain my balance.

“Are you alright?” he asked. He reached for me.

I stumbled so obviously at his touch that my skeleton leaping from my skin would have been less revealing.

“I’m—Oh! I’m quite, ah. It’s this blasted corset, I think.” My voice grew sharper. “It’s so...”

“Here,” he moved. “Allow me to untie it for you?”

“No!” I cried, leaving us both wide-eyed. “No, no. Thank you. Thank you,” I said. “You’ve done enough, sir, please don’t touch me— it. Don’t touch it. Don’t touch my corset, please.”

His hands fell to his pockets. “I only meant-”

“Of course. Me, too.” I said. “But I’m fine. All in a lady’s day, aye?”

Cyrus left and came back from the horses with a canteen.

“Drink this,” he said.

I did, like a man who escaped a desert.

He quirked a brow, saying, “It’s daunting; I know. You’ve found yourself in a strange land; things aren’t the way you wanted them to be. But at least you have friends here. It’s worse without.”

Something sad painted across his features, the ones newly enchanted by the rising sun. He had become very, very handsome to me and quite suddenly.

“...Why did you leave?” I asked. “Oreia, I mean.”

“We should get you back to the Palace, Princess,” he said.

Mr. Evergreen went to Edith to ready her, and the intimacy we had shared was lost.

“I’m sure Miss Josie will be looking for you soon. When she can’t locate you, she’ll enlist Ser Elías. I don’t think he should find you with me like this.”

“I’ve kept you up,” I whispered.

“I stayed out of free will; you didn’t make me do anything. However, it is late. You’ll be missed before too long.”

“Thank you for the dance,” I said. “Please don’t… Please don’t tell the Prince he’s injured me. Even in the morning out of courtesy.”

He nodded. “Your secrets are safe with me, Svana.”