Page 16 of The Ostler's Boy

T here was a severe lack of zest in the awful hours of the morning. I woke to a loud humming. It was what I deserved for crawling into bed so late, but everything about being conscious was taxing and cruel.

I’d barely closed my eyes for an hour—two others had been spent critically analyzing the surface of a particular swordsman’s hand beneath my own and his deep, dark, and serious ocean eyes.

Svana, he’d said, like we were old friends. I hadn’t corrected him.

I tried not to think about the rounded a’s of my name that had rolled from his tongue. I tried not to think about how easily he’d led me through the Oreian Waltz. I tried not to imagine how kind he’d been with me about the Prince and his affair. Then, I tried not to think about the Prince.

I knew I had to face him at some point, but I was stuck. I had to decide whether or not confessing his infidelity to Ser Elías was worth it— whether packing my things could be done without signaling distress to our nations. It was agonizing, but the truth would birth a deliberate slight against Father’s need to solidify peace with Chalke, seeing as his favorite knight would most certainly stab the empire’s Crowned Prince.

My head hurt thinking about it. Everything hurt. Even my feet were sore.

The humming arrived closer to my bed. It was Miss Josie. She opened the long velvet curtains and invited the sun to blind me.

“You’re too chipper,” I muttered, shielding my face.

She moved with a melody that only made sense if she were mad. It had no real rhythm, but she spun, beaming happily.

“Time to rise, Miss Svana!” she called.

Josie kept humming as she drew me out of the blankets and collected them for the wash.

“His Royal Highness has requested you to break your fast with him,” she said. “On the balcony, no less. So romantic.”

“Is it?” I asked. “Who eats on a balcony? Birds?”

“Don’t you like birds?” she asked.

“Oh, what do you know?” I argued.

“You don’t find it quaint?”

“No,” I said.

“A shame.” She placed the bedding by the door and headed to the vanity to wait for me. “Come now, don’t move too slowly. We’d hate for His Highness to think your tardiness was a distaste for the effort.”

“Speak for yourself,” I said.

“Come again, miss?” she asked.

I sat in front of her and pretended I hadn’t made the comment.

“Are you…?” Miss Josie whispered, “Did something happen with His Highness, miss?” She stooped like a wounded animal. “I thought we liked the Prince?”

“No,” I countered, but then I was embarrassed. “I meant, no, of course, nothing happened. I’m fine. Just…I’m not a morning person, as you said.” I didn’t know why I lied to her beyond a battered pride.

“Oh,” she said.

Josie regained her momentum. She did my hair and, after browsing through the closet, produced the pale yellow skirt I liked.

“The flowers on your nightstand are his doing as well,” she added. “They match this dress.”

“Flowers?” I asked.

I turned and glared distastefully at a vase of daisies that had rudely manifested at some point, a blatant intrusion on my ability to process his hands all over another woman’s fruit.

“When did those arrive?” I asked.

“Oh, very early, miss. You were still asleep.”

“Asleep?”

She quirked a knowing brow, and I felt my whole existence tense. We sat in an awkward silence as I tried to access the memory of if I’d noticed them when I’d come in.

She said, “Don’t worry, my lady,” as she checked the evenness of my complexion in the glass. “You were in bed by ten and in your room all night. I remember. I did my best not to rouse you when I delivered them this morning, and no one was with me.”

I didn't do anything until she overtly nodded to encourage me to do the same.

“Right?” she asked.

“…Right,” I said.

“Good. Let’s get you on your way, Your Highness.”

Sameer stood as soon as I entered the parlor. He was on the deck that was connected to it. His chair scratched across the stone floor, then nearly fell with how quickly he rose to make his greeting. Two glass paneled doors were pinned open on either side; they framed him beautifully.

“Princess,” he said.

With one hand, he motioned to the opposing seat. I wasn’t sure if the table was originally in its location or if the Prince had dragged it outside from somewhere in the room in an attempt of gross flattery.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said softer.

I didn’t respond except to glance at the offered chair.

He cleared his throat. “Please. Join me,” he said.

“What are you apologizing for?” I asked. I wanted to hear him say it.

“I… I mean to apologize for last night’s indiscretion.”

“Indiscretion?” I asked. He was mental , I thought.

“Please.” Sam presented the seat again. I sat. He did as well. “First, I am moved that you have accepted my invitation this morning.”

“Was there an option not to?” I asked. “Miss Jocelyn didn’t tell me that.”

I reeled back as one of his footmen was beside me to hand over a glass of juice.

Sam laid a long napkin over his lap, unbothered. He whispered instructions to his staff as they fluttered around. Then he said, “I realize that things may not be what you expected them to be,” and I laughed.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize that wasn’t a joke.”

“...Or perhaps what you wanted,” he added.

He thanked a few servants for our meal and quickly dismissed them, and then we were alone.

“The truth is,” he said, but nothing else came with it.

A bell rang somewhere, and the random starts of everyone’s days in a busy palace sang below us. The balcony overlooked the heart of Rothingham, and I was confused at how exposed we were. I did nothing but look at my plate; it was toast and an apple. On his, he had bacon — an entire mound of it. Then, I was upset that I was offended by food.

“The truth is what, Your Highness?” I asked.

He paused, mouth ajar to ponder it. “The truth is, Miss Agatha and I have been friends for a long time.”

“I see.”

“Our engagement, being yours and mine, was a deal my father struck behind closed doors with yours. I didn’t…I didn’t know of it at its time of conception, nor did I ask for it. So, the truth is, I didn’t even know what to expect from this arrangement,” he said. “I know I did not expect you to be so beautiful ? —”

“You don’t have to placate me,” I told him. My interruption sparked a frown. “I’m fine,” I lied. “Did Mr. Evergreen tell you I was upset?”

“Mister... Cyrus? ” Sam asked. “Did you speak to him already? I told him to wait for me.”

“Wait for you? For what?” I asked.

“Yes, he… Hang on. What are you talking about?”

I paused. “...What?”

“What?” he asked. “You said you spoke to Cyrus. I’m talking about your rides,” he said.

“My ride?” I asked. “Your Highness, I didn’t?—“

“You—”

We cut each other off.

Sam sighed, apologizing for the fact, but added, “Svana, we may not have begun this marriage on proper terms, but I do listen. Or I try to. I may not like horses, but I do hear you when you say you do.”

“Sir, last night, I was humiliated. I was scared. I did not mean to offend you by?—”

“It’s fine. You said you wanted to have someone to ride with. Yes?” he asked.

“Y-Yes? But?—”

“But I understand,” he said. “You wish for it to be me, but that is not something that I can give you. You have every right to be upset. Confused, even. However, thankfully, we have Cyrus... Mr. Evergreen, if you will.” He stressed the swordsman’s name.

A million thoughts over what Mr. Evergreen had said to the Prince saturated my skin with sweat. “Sir, again, I?—”

“As a personal favor to me, Cyrus has agreed to be your riding companion in my stead. Well. For most days. He does have other work, and my sword lessons are his top priority on Wednesdays; however?—”

“Wait, what?” I asked. “Mr. Evergreen is to be my riding companion? What does that mean?”

“He’s very skilled,” Sam assured me. “I promise you. Ride once with him, and you will see just how perfect this idea is.”

Ride once. Sam didn’t know I’d done that.

“Sure,” he went on, weighing the words, “He’s a little rough around the edges, but the man is my dear friend, and it’s only because he’s… He’s shy, honestly. Don’t tell him I told you that, but I do think that you will enjoy breaking Isa with him once he opens up. He’s funny, too. You know?”

“Isa? Who is Isa?” I asked.

He knit his brow. “…Your horse, Svana.”

“My horse is named Isaac,” I explained.

“Yes. And Isa, for short. See? I listen,” Sam said.

I was confused. “...What exactly did Mr. Evergreen tell you?” I asked.

“Are you...unhappy?” He was upset. “You said you wanted to ride. I thought this would please you. I thought that I could see your needs met where I lacked ability and, as a result, mend some of our differences. It’s important that we get along, I think.”

“You’ve… I’m sorry. I’m lost. ….Did Mr. Evergreen tell you I was angry or not?”

“Svana, you ran away from me,” he said. “You slammed the door. You told me to go away. I don’t need to drag Cyrus into our private arguments just to decode simple ideas for me. You were ruffled by my…my actions, yes? Rightfully, I’ll admit, but I do want to remedy that for us…And without a public scene. This is me seeking to resolve it. See?”

“You mean you wish to resolve my offense to your affair?” I asked.

He cleared his throat and then reached for his glass to take a drink.

“By arranging for me to spend time with another man?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I looked around, catching a glimpse of the subject in question’s careless brown hair bouncing around as he disappeared through the door beneath the balcony.

“And every day?” I asked.

“Not every day,” Sam said. “He’s mine on Wednesdays, and he’s not another man. What a crude frame of words. He’s…He’s Cyrus. He’s like a brother to me.”

“But he is a man other than you,” I said.

“He does happen to be a man, yes,” Sam said. “If it’s honor you’re concerned of, he will not be inappropriate with you. It’s not in his nature.”

I sat.

“I promise you, if you give ole Cy a chance, I have no doubt you will like him,” he said. “He’s brilliant. Quick, like you. And sure, he’s not a noble. Perhaps you’re not used to devoting your time to those outside your circle. And yes, he is a bit crass—rude, really, and unserious at times, but he is remarkably skilled in many things, riding being one of his strengths, swords another, and finally, loyalty his best. All that said, I am beyond certain that he is far better the hand to please you than I could ever be. I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m scared of horses,” he said.

“What does that matter?” I asked. I focused on trailing the shimmer of one of Sam’s rings along the table to avoid the thought of Cyrus’s hands pleasing me.

I didn’t even know what that meant, only the bits I had gathered from the knights who had spoken about women before. Elías had scolded them for such talk.

“I cannot ride them with you,” Sam explained. “I barely manage to exist inside carriages just knowing they’re around…. Look, Cyrus taught all of my sisters to ride.”

“You have sisters?” I asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said.

“Where are they?”

He shrugged. “They’re teenagers. They’re at school. Where else would they be?”

It was quiet.

He said, “He’s taught my sisters; he’s taught our squires when they’ve come here and needed it. I believe he could even show you a thing or two about the sport if you let him?”

I shook my head. “I doubt that very much. I have been riding since I could walk, and I–”

“Please give him a chance,” the Prince said.

“Why?”

“You are my fiancé; it’s natural that the two of you should talk, and he will be my best man at our ceremony.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked.

“It– Have you even met him properly? Have you had a conversation with him? Or is your judgment based upon his status?”

“My judgment is based upon the fact that you are trying to sweep an extramarital affair under the rug by dangling a metaphorical carrot-horse in front of me!” I cried.

I stopped, realizing, for a fact, that Cyrus hadn’t thrown me beneath the carriage with Sam. Sam was talking about his actions at the ball, not my tryst into the moonlit wildness with his friend whom I had very much properly met and conversed with.

“Your Highness, sir, I—” I exhaled.

“Please. Call me Sam, Svana,” he said.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“We cannot continue to exist at odds,” he said. “People will notice.”

“Then I’ll leave,” I said.

“Leave?” he asked.

“Yes. I’ll have Miss Josie ensure I am packed and gone by this afternoon.”

“You cannot leave,” he said. “How would that look? We’ve announced your stay.”

“What do I care?” I asked.

“My father will be furious. Yours, I’m sure,” he said.

“Same question, Prince.”

“…Give me a chance,” he begged. “A-At least give my friend a chance. To entertain you, if nothing else.” He spoke faster. “It’s a dream of mine that you'll know him, and he is well-versed in all things horse; I’m not. I think you could–”

“Did you just gloss over what I said?” I asked. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t care how well your friend likes horses. I don’t like you.”

“He is quite the decorated soldier.”

“What does that matter?” I asked.

“He can protect you,” he said.

“Protect me?” I balked. “I have knights for that. I have a whole empire for that.”

“Do your knights ride for leisure?” he checked. Sam sat straighter. He fingered the rim of his glass. “Even if they did, they have obligations here. Orders. They conduct patrols as they always have, an arrangement that has always been in place since the Treaty. I’m sure they’re even stricter now, what with the looming threat of bandits.”

“Bandits?” I asked. “The ones your father did not take seriously?”

“Never mind him,” Sam hurried. “If you are unhappy with the arrangement, I could...?”

“I’m unhappy,” I told him. “Now what?”

“...Unfortunately, I was not prepared for you to decline my idea.”

“Is this appropriate, sir?” I asked.

He frowned. “Is what appropriate?”

“For me, your future wife, to spend my days with a strange man? I’m,” I stuttered; I imagined dancing with Cyrus in another field and scoffed. “You wouldn’t rather we spend time together?”

His face transitioned through a series of responses as I waited.

“I said I hate horses,” he said.

“You said that you were scared of them. Now you hate them?” I asked. “That’s so much worse than taxidermy.”

“I’m not sure that’s fair, but your concerns are noted.”

“What?”

“What?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Just. Cyrus is not someone you should be scared of or a stranger to. He’s my best friend; he’s held that title since I was seventeen years old, and he’s very, very honorable. He’s not a strange man, he’s a…He’s a swords man. A bodyguard, in this case, and now, he’s your riding companion, which, you’ll remember, is something that you asked me for.”

“Yes. You. I asked for your company,” I said.

“I cannot spare it,” he replied.

“You cannot spare it?” I repeated.

“I cannot,” he said.

“Why?”

“I have pressing obligations elsewhere. That said, we must keep you safe while we investigate this horse-burning business. Aside from throwing you in a tower, what other means are there for you to enjoy the Season while still remaining well-protected?”

“I’d like to see you try and throw me in a tower, Prince,” I said. “You may walk over, but you’ll limp back.”

He shifted. “I did not… It wasn’t a real suggestion. I wasn’t trying to offend you.”

“I’m glad it comes so naturally then.”

Sam sighed. “You even sound like Cyrus, honestly.”

“Do you intend to investigate the horses?” I asked. “You were as indifferent as His Majesty before. I’m not an idiot. You won’t fool me with flashy distractions.”

“Indifferent? I resent that accusation.”

“You did nothing to stand up for me.”

“I apologized for that and… Yes, I may not have been vocal about it at the time, but yes, we do intend to investigate, and before you ask, yes, it was I who made sure of that fact. No one else.”

“...You?” I eyed him. “When?”

“Last night when I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “After our… After our conversation. It’s not as though I could just slip into a slumber and let the evening go. You were obviously the subject of my thoughts, so I went to my father for you,” he said like it was impressive.

“And?”

“And I am a man of action,” he said. “I wanted to apologize, but I had a feeling you might demand proof of my sincerity.”

“I think that is a fair request given the damage you dealt to my faith in you,” I explained.

“Yes, and I also know that I cannot erase what you saw, but I can and am offering you an olive branch. I don’t wish to fight with you. It is my hope that this whole thing, this– the investigation, the rides, the things you’ve seen– I want you to forgive me, Svana. We’re to be married soon. And marriage…It’s forever, you know? Do you forgive me?”

“It’s forgiveness that you want?” I asked.

“Of course,” he said.

“Then you’re ending things with her?” I asked.

My riding companion arrived in the opening beside us. He rapped his knuckles against one of the closer panes.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” he said.

“Ah! There he is!” Sam said, smiling. He tsked. “Like you have to call me that.”

“Are you ending things with her?” I asked the Prince.

Sam tilted his head at his friend, ignoring the question.

I tried again. “Are you–”

“Good morning,” the swordsman said. He nodded at his friend and, with a confidence hard to avoid, looked at me and grinned. “Good morning, Princess.”

“We’re having a conversation, sir,” I explained.

His eyes grew sarcastically. “Yes, and to encourage that fact, I said good morning to you, as one often does when conversing with others.”

“Good morning,” I said plainly. “You–”

“You look tired.” He scanned me quickly. “Were you up late, Your Highness?”

I shut my mouth; his traveling eyes found mine, and a single arched brow goaded me to lie.

Sam brushed my forehead with his hand. “Perhaps you’re ill?” he asked.

“W-What?” I pulled away, quickly forming and hiding the fist in my lap.

“You haven’t touched your toast,” he said.

Something about the way that Mr. Evergreen watched me made me feel raw and unprotected. “...I-I’ve never broken a horse before,” I said anxiously.

Then, to my shock, he plucked the apple from my plate and bit into it, closing one of his eyes at me. Both of mine flew open and hurried to Sam’s face to see if he had caught the act, but he hadn’t; he was grossly into his meat, completely unaware.

I flushed as Cyrus used the tip of his thumb to swipe his lip.

“As stated, you’re in good hands, Svana,” the Prince said.

“W-What?”

He snapped his fingers. “Oh! Right!” Then he gestured between the two of us, rushing formalities. “Cyrus, Svana, Svana, Cyrus.”

“You do know I’ve met him, yes?” I asked. “Once in the square, once in the yard. Once in the hall, and once–”

“Is she always this rude?” Cyrus asked. He took another bite.

Sam laughed and dabbed his mouth with the napkin, opting not to indulge in the inquiry. He swallowed, then bobbed his head.

“Yes, you did meet, of course. I forgot,” Sam said.

“He…” I gawked. “He just ate my apple.”

“Weren’t you done with it?” Sam asked. “No matter. We have more. Do you want another?”

“I–”

“Oh! Cyrus, did you tell Henry of your assignment?” He emphasized it with his fork, telling me, “Cyrus often helps Henry with the day’s work. He goes as far as to stay in the barn, too. Bloody devotion, that is. I think I’d hate to take the time to go home every night.”

“The barn?” I asked.

“Yes. I saw him there last night,” Sam said.

“You saw him?” I asked.

Cyrus and I met eyes.

“I was working late,” he explained. He flashed me a look. “One of the girls needed a new shoe. And yes, I stay in the barn sometimes. When I am too tired to travel to my cottage, or I need to be up early, I guess. Sam here likes to paint me as something of a nomad, I’m afraid.”

“Nomad; hardly what I described,” Sam said.

Cyrus shook his head. “It’s not like I don’t have my own means. Henry is just old, and sometimes I?—”

“Who is Henry?” I asked.

“The ostler,” Sam replied.

“The ostler?” I asked. “But I-?”

Sam continued, interrupting me again. “So. It’s settled then.” I brought my glass to my mouth, but when he said, “You’re free to take advantage of Cyrus here,” the juice went right back out and all over the table between us.

He paused, touching the cloth to his face.

“Good lord, Svana,” he said. “Are you well?”

“You said to take advantage of him,” I said.

“Yes, and I mean it, starting as soon as, well, as right here, right now, I suppose.”

“Surely you don’t?—”

“I do,” he insisted. “Nay, I encourage it. Cyrus, you’re free, yes?”

“Of course I am,” the swordsman said.

“Then come show Svana how it’s done,” Sam replied.

Cyrus rolled his shoulder smugly. “Aye, I could show you a thing or two. If you wanted, Your Highness.”

“I–” My face flamed. I tried to find the words, but I felt rotten for how inappropriate my thoughts were. I vowed never to read another book again. “I must apologize; I think I’ve got something in my throat.” I touched it accordingly and turned my face.

“And Svana,” Sam added. “Don’t be afraid to really make use of this man’s experience,” he said, handing me my cup.

I waved him off, clearing my throat. “Um. Ahem. Sorry. That won’t, that won’t be necessary, sir. Sorry. I’m…I think I’m actually booked this afternoon. No time for sudden rides.”

“Your maid told me you were free,” Sam said. “In fact, I have your entire social ledger here for the week, and it’s… quite open. Did you not make friends at the party?”

He pulled a notebook from a pocket from inside his jacket. Cyrus peered over his shoulder and inspected the page cooly.

He said, “Ah, I know what the problem is, Sam.”

“Problem?” I asked. “What problem?”

“Tell me.”

“She’s scared,” Cyrus told him. “I thought you said she was an enthusiast , Sam? But she’s not. You’ve given me a scaredy cat.”

“A scardey cat?” I cried. “Pray, what am I so scared of? Of spending time with you?”

“No. Of the horse,” Cyrus said. He shook his head. “I could care less if you were scared of spending time with me, but if you’re scared of horses, I’d probably laugh.”

“I am not –”

He chuckled, muttering, “The Horse Princess, scared of horses.”

“How dare you!” I cried. “What deranged fantasy gave you the idea that I could be scared of the most majestic creature to ever live? Are you mad or simply trying to insult my character?”

“Hey–” Sam tried.

Cyrus made a poor attempt at mimicry. “I’ve never broken a horse before.”

“Is that supposed to be me?” I asked. “I do not sound like that!”

The Prince smiled. “You do sound a little like that.”

“Ooh!” I cried. “Neither of you know me well enough to speak so freely!”

I scowled and snatched my dress into crumpled knots, tearing past the two of them and out through the room and into the hall, my voice burning hot through a series of gripes and moans.

They tracked me into the corridor, and Sam sighed, more confident with his Blade at his side.

“Princesssss,” he sang. “Come. I did not mean to hurt your feelings. I’m doing my best; I swear.”

“Your best?” I asked. “This is your best? Inviting your rude friend to our breakfast to insult me?”

“Yes; I–”

“If you really wanted my forgiveness, you would forsake your other obligations,” I said carefully. “Or just spend time with me! Not! Not assign me a sassy nanny!”

“I told you! ” He stopped the rise of his voice, dropping it to a shameful whisper. “I’m terrified of horses.”

“We don’t have to ride horses, Your Highness! There are plenty of other things we could do to get to know each other!”

He didn’t reply.

“Ah, I see,” I said, nodding. “Alright. It is very clear to me that you do not wish for that to happen. So, now I must bid you a good day, sir.” I frowned at the other but didn’t offer him a farewell.

They followed me.

Sam gave a quiet, “Svana, wait.”

“What do you want?” I asked. “I’m very busy, despite what your little list suggests. ”

“Cyrus is not your nanny,” he said.

“Come, Prince. Am I five?” I asked.

His brow went up. “I don’t know how old you are.”

“A-Are you serious?” I asked.

“I’m sorry; I don’t. Did you tell me?”

“I’m,” I said. “I’m– I– The whole reason we had to wait to marry until now is because I was not of legal age in Oreia until February!”

“Next February?” he asked.

“No!” I whined. “February as in just!”

He looked at Cyrus, who nodded simply. Then Sam tried to add to his response but only managed to say, “Happy birthday to you, then.”

Finally, Cyrus whispered, “She’s eighteen, Sam.”

“Thank you,” he said back. “Eighteen is a great age,” he said to me. “In Chalke, we can marry at–”

“I know the age of consent here, Your Highness!” I said. “I took the time to know your culture!”

“Why must we argue?” he asked. “I thought you would be excited to ride.”

I took a deep breath, pulled Sam aside, and bent closely enough to where I thought my words might be shielded from his friend.

“...You want to know where I am so you can continue to do what you wish to do and with whom you wish to do it,” I said.

He met my eyes, denying it. “You think I would hurt you so?” he asked.

“If you did not wish to hurt me, you would end your affair,” I returned.

His gaze broke first, finding the floor.

Cyrus exhaled loudly enough that I almost felt bad.

“And now,” I said. I held my head higher. “Now you’ve enlisted the advice of an Oreian expert to discern everything I do or say for you, yes?” I asked.

“His nationality is really just a bonus,” the Prince explained. “But no, I did not enlist him to spy on you; he’s my friend. I asked him to ride with you because I thought it was important to you.”

“Sam,” Cyrus said.

“I do not wish to hurt you, love,” he added.

They shared a look over his shoulder.

“Hurt me?” I balked. “Hurt me? No. Make no mistake, you have not wounded me, no matter what your nanny tells you. I am fine. It is my duty to be fine, and let us not forget, duty never rests,” I said. “Good day, sir,”

Cyrus and I locked gazes. I felt a chill run down my spine with the reception of his cold look.

“Good day, Mr. Evergreen,” I said.