Page 19 of The Ostler's Boy

“ A resounding yes,” I said.

“No. I did answer you; I said I was a gentleman. I thought you were smart, but here I am with yet another word to define. Gentleman is the opposite of rake. Aren’t you supposed to be tracking my dialogue?”

“I am!” I said.

“Then why must I repeat and debate everything with you?” he asked.

“So you deny the accusation?” I asked. “Despite the obvious?”

“Yes, I deny it,” he said. He rolled his shoulders.

“You ranked very highly on most of the ladies’ lists of charmers,” I told him.

“List of what?”

“For someone nowhere near the court, you certainly are well-known among its ladies,” I said. “Every last one of them had something to say about you, you know?”

The strap in his hand went back at his command, and he maneuvered Ice closer to my horse so that he could lean in. “I’ve known a few of the women in the court. Yes. And women outside of it. But I’m not a rake. I’m afraid I don’t fall into the right social class for your high opinion of me.”

“You dress nicer than anyone I know!” I cried.

“I get on!” he said.

“Clearly. If not rake, would you prefer the term-?”

“Whore?” he asked.

I jumped.

“Would you?” he asked. “My. How quick you are to cast judgment upon those willing to be your friend. Would you like to know what I’ve heard of you? I could recall the rumors blindly and forget trying to decide myself if you command it, ma’am.”

“I didn’t force you out here,” I hissed. “You forced me!”

“I would never force you to do anything,” he declared. “Another slander to my good name!”

For a moment, we said nothing else, and all I could hear were hooves on dirt and lungs breathing. I watched as what I had said shaped his face.

“I’m sorry, ” I relented. “I’m very sorry.”

Cyrus was still for a moment longer before the lines of his jaw slacked.

“I am happy for your company,” I said. I gathered my hands, my eyes falling to them. “At least you’re frank. Honesty is important. But no, I do not need you to recall any rumors. I’m sure I’ve heard them. Everyone else here dances around me like a set of china, or they comment on my wild nature from corners of the room…Wild mares, us Eissons are. Yes. They talk about me, but no one talks to me... At best, they talk at me or near me. Maybe then just to hear themselves speak.”

“I see you’ve met Miss Aster,” he quipped.

“…Ha!” The ease of my laugh brought a genuine smirk to his lips, even if it faded as fast. “Well. I am pleased to know it’s not just me you hate.”

“I don’t hate you, Svana. Or Miss Aster, for that matter, but you’ll find my inner circle is small,” he settled.

“Did you…” I swallowed sharply. “Did you know her? Miss Aster?”

“No.”

“She said she’d take you for a ride,” I confessed.

“She talks too much,” he said.

“Is that an unfavorable trait in a woman?” I asked.

“Yes. Anyway. Ask me again,” he said.

“If you’ve known Miss Aster?” I asked. “Do I want to ask?”

“No. I said I hadn’t been with her.” He frowned. “Ask me if I’m a rake.”

“But–”

“Honestly, you went on and on before. I wasn’t trying to be horrible to you; I think I just grew old, died, came back to life, and then got lost within your endless string of words before I could think about my answer much, is all.”

“...That one was a bit excessive,” I said.

“Noted. I apologize,” he replied.

“Thank you.”

“So,” he said. “Your question. Ask me.”

“I don’t need to be scolded twice,” I told him. “I’ll take your word.”

“Is that all the effort it takes to kill your interest? That’s upsetting.”

“Oh please, as if-”

“Just ask me,” he insisted. “I will give you the most honest, straightforward reply I can.”

“You will?” I asked. He nodded. I dropped my tone conspiratorially. “...Are you a rake, sir?”

“No,” he said decidedly.

I rolled my eyes. “I thought you were going to be honest with me!’

“I am being honest!”

“Oh, are you? I find that a very difficult thing to believe when every lady knows your name and the color of your eyes! Why do they gossip about you and the younger Swif-?” The name stuck in my throat as soon as his jaw locked. “And your youthful sweaters?” I tried.

Cyrus came to a stop and nodded. “Youthful sweaters? Seriously?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Go on. Say what you meant to. Say her name.”

I shook my head. “Huh? What name? I’ve lost my thought.”

“Coward… Miss Swift and I parted ways mutually, though no one wants to believe it. That’s why they gossip. Our split was not because of misconduct from either party. I did not fuck her friends, though I would be lying if I said a few did not proposition me. Further, while Sam is currently involved with another woman, he is not a rake, and even if he were, we are not the same man. There was never a threat of unfaithfulness in the relationship between Miss Swift and me, just a lifetime of unhappiness. I keep my promises, so in the future, I would implore you to investigate your company’s appetite for scandal beyond what you hear of his social engagements and refrain from calling men wolves.”

“I, I didn’t mean-”

“You needn’t apologize. You’re eighteen. Have you ever been in love? I don’t expect you to understand the complexity of its snares or shortcomings.”

“You loved her?” I asked.

“I bore feelings for her, yes,” he said. “We were together years. But was it love? Probably. I don’t know. Love is a dreadful thing.”

“…Many people are unhappy at times within their marriage,” I said. “If you spoke to her of your worries… You could have-”

“Pray; don’t lecture me on my personal affairs, Your Highness. I know my character, though you may doubt it. And I did speak to her of what bothered me. We separated because of it.” Cyrus looked to the horizon. “We ought to head back. It looks as though it may storm.”

“Love is a dreadful thing,” I said abruptly. I felt obscure. “Do you swear? Do you swear upon your life that you are loyal? That if I confess something to you, you will never speak of it?” I asked. “I cannot bear to endure the spectacle I should become if you betray me.”

He studied me. “I swear it,” he said.

“Then I will tell you because I have wounded you and because I have… I have no one else to tell. My father…” My breath was shaky. “My father has a new companion every week. To my understanding, it’s always been that way, even when my mother was alive. I don’t know why, but I believed it would be different for me somehow. I believed that my father was the exception and that my husband would love me and only me. Silly, I know, but I did, and now I am living a worse reality than that of my parents.”

“Your father is known for his temper,” he said. “How is it worse? Sam would never hurt you.”

“My father has never hurt me in the way they say he might; he’s never raised a hand. I could not tell you if he hit my mother, and even if he had, it’s not…Sir, it’s not physical abuse that I fear,” I told him. “What is pain but mind over matter anyway?”

“What is it you fear then?” he asked.

“It’s crass, but… At least Father slept with my mother on occasion, as evidenced by my existence. Sameer does not even wish to know me, let alone lust after me in that way, in the way the books I’ve read suggested a man should long for his wife. I know the role I’ve been assigned. My whole purpose is to marry the Prince for peace and bear us an heir so that our people may rest united, but I constantly, I constantly ask myself, at what cost? Where do I fit in this world these men have built for me? And now, there’s an added layer. Another question to crush me while I lie awake at night. What does my life, my marriage, look like if my husband cannot even stomach to suffer me in such a way as sex?”

“Svana,” he said.

“Pain, I can bear. An affair? Fine. I just…I thought I would be less lonely in my future,” I said.

“Permission to be frank?” he asked.

I shrugged. “You’ve never needed it before.”

“You are a very beautiful woman,” he said. His breath burned with an honesty I could not avoid. “You must know. Very, very beautiful.”

Cautiously, I said, “Thank you, sir, but a lot of good it’s done me. No one’s ever courted me. No one’s ever noticed me. No one’s ever written me or liked me, even platonically, not even for my face.”

“That cannot be true,” he said.

“It is, unfortunately. My father arranged this marriage before I was in society, and, naturally, after the Treaty, I had no reason to entertain sons of somebodies, that is, past their luncheons with my father or the Apple Faire when we would attend it. Though we rarely attend it. His Majesty is paranoid, to say the least. Before, when you mentioned the Hunt? I am supposed to host it this year, but…I’ve never done it. Not once. Usually, my cousins handle it.”

“I see,” he said.

“Most people that I have spoken with work for my father or hate my father.” I gestured over him. “Or they found equal footing in both. Beauty does not matter when you’re immediately associated with the man they call a vicious warlord.”

He cleared his throat. “It’s not that Sam does not or cannot lust for you, Your Highness. Anyone with eyes can see that you are worthy of such attention.”

“I am humbled,” I said.

He added, “He loves her. Agatha.”

My spirit fell into my gut; I hated myself for harming them.

“He loves her,” Cyrus said again. “He would never tell you because you must marry him, and he is not malicious, but, as you often accuse me, I am his confidant. Trust me when I say I know this. I know it's love between them, and love is far more powerful than any influence, any infatuation...You cannot see it because you’re on the opposing side of his fidelity, but Sam is very faithful...Just not to you.”

“To her,” I breathed.

“Yes.”

“Have they been together very long?” I asked.

“Since I can remember. When I first got to Chalke, I thought they were acquaintances, but, well, he was a young man, and your engagement did not exist. It was not long before he came to me for advice. Had it not been for your fathers…”

“He would have married her?” I asked.

“At first chance,” Cyrus said. “Now, because I am a fair man, I shall trade you a secret for yours so that you are certain that you are safe with me. Sam had a ring.”

“To marry her?”

“Yes,” he said. “His mother’s. And I shall be punished if you tell anyone that fact. I’m the only one who knows. He told no one but me. Especially not his father.”

“You… You trust me?” I asked.

“You trusted me, yes?”

“Not exactly…” I knit my brow. “But I– I feel awful for being here. For ripping them apart.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “You made no decision. Sam knows that.”

“The age to marry in Chalke is sixteen,” I said. “He was older when we–”

“He thought he had more time,” Cyrus explained. “We all believe we have more time with who we love.”

“How horrible for him. I feel sick for my reaction,” I said, hovering my hand at my heart.

I ignored whatever it was he muttered, hexed by the strange desire to apologize to the Prince and his Agatha, but before I could formulate another thought, Mr. Evergreen redirected us toward the Palace.

“It’s getting cool outside,” he said. “Would you like my coat?”

“N-No, thank you.”

We started our return.

Cyrus broke the air next. “Tell me about these books you read,” he said. “Are they romantic?”

“Ah, yes. I should have known you’d tease me for such fantasies,” I said meekly, trying to hide the tear that had fallen down my cheek.

“Why would I tease you?” he asked. “They sound exciting.”

His tone had changed; he was coddling me. Out of a want to right the scales between us, I said, “Every tale began with impossible odds and closed with incredible love,” I said. “Despite the reality of a hero’s circumstance, lovers chose each other and no one else. You must think I am a silly girl for that? You must think it’s pathetic for me to cry in such a pretty place over a man I hardly know and will never know like that?”

“If I offended you with my silence, I am sorry,” he said. “It was not my intention.”

“I had this idiot’s notion that– Forget it.”

Cyrus looked back at me as I came to a reluctant stop.

“You’re not an idiot,” he said. “What you’re feeling is not silly. I do not think you’re a silly girl.”

My stomach writhed. “I had this… I had this hope that the Prince and I would be… new to intimacy . Together. That our wedding night or some unseen force would unite us in an unbreakable matrimony… I know it’s farfetched ,” I said. “I know most men have known women before their vows, but. But I-”

“It’s not farfetched,” he uttered. “Virginity is so crucial back home; it’s not surprising you’ve held onto it so long. It’s not silly or stupid to have wanted it to matter, either. You’ll hear no such words from me.”

“But Sam has been with Agatha,” I said.

“And I have been with more women than Sam even knows,” he said. “Despite what you’ve been raised to think, your virtue is not the only worth you offer, nor the only thing that defines a relationship as worthy.”

“But it’s a gift?” I said. “Do you not agree?”

“You’ve truly never been with anyone?” he asked.

“What kind of question is that?” I worried. “Do I strike you as someone who’s-” I frowned, fidgeting under his scrutiny. “You may have experience, sir, but it is different for a man. Is virginity such a rare thing for the women in this empire? You have so many crucifixes everywhere; how could anyone even-- What? What is it?”

Cyrus jerked his head just once. “Nothing.”

“You’re staring at me.”

“I’m considering your words,” he said. “That’s all. Listening, if you will.”

“ I haven’t been with anyone, sir. Ever. I’m sure that’s very dull for you to hear, and truly, I’d hate to bore you, but the closest I have ever been to a man was when I was just a girl. And it was just a kiss , and I was thirteen . It hardly counts for anything. … Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s... I’m just…” He shut his mouth. “I’m sorry your marriage will fall short of your hopes.”

Cyrus clicked his tongue a few times, and miraculously, Tails trotted us up to his side at an unprecedented speed.

“How did you do that?” I whined. “Has he always been able to move so nimbly? This whole time?”

“Tails and I have been friends for many moons,” he said. “One day, you will know Ice the same. It’s good you’re here with me. You’ll bond faster.”

I found myself nesting into the idea the way he’d painted it, and with that came an eerie state– a faith in hearing his assurance.

“Truly?” I asked.

“Do you not have horses at home anymore?” he asked.

“What?”

“Sam,” he said. “He said you liked horses, remember? I assumed you had one or two.”

“Oh. Yes,” then I beamed. “Actually, I have twenty.”

“Twenty?” Cyrus was impressed.

“Well. They’re not mine. They're Father’s.” I patted the stallion. “Though, he does let me ride them. And brush them and talk to them. And one day, they’ll be part of my inheritance if they survive so long.”

“...What are their names?” he asked.

I sat a little taller. “Well, they’re certainly better than Tails, I can assure you.”

“As you stall.”

I laughed and tried to avoid it. “Never mind their names,” I said.

“Ah. You can’t list them all,” he said.

“What?” I frowned. “Of course, I can list them all! I’m not a monster.”

“Do it then,” he said. “Name all twenty. I’ll count.”

I shifted. “Alright… There’s Butterbun–”

“Butterbun,” he nodded. “Yes, far better than Tails, I see.”

I went on. “Corduroy, Carmichael, Devony, Halfmoon, Fullmoon, Crescent, Starlight, Shadow, Minx, Milo, Mercy, Fido, Fiona, Reginald, but we call him Reggie, Bishop, Lucas, Lucy, she’s Lucas’s twin, Michael, and Brian.”

“I’m sorry, did you say Brian?” he asked.

“Yes, Brian,” I announced.

He blinked. “Brian? You have a horse named Brian?”

“Yes, and Fiona. And Reginald. And Bishop. And Corduroy. And–”

“You laughed at ‘Tails.’” He shook his head. “Did you name them all?”

“I did.”

“I see. I think you might be worse at naming than I am.”

“I am quite proud of their names, sir. You should see their markings. Then you would understand,” I said.

“Uh-huh. Is Butterbun brown or gold?” he asked.

“He’s gold, of course,” I said. “And you’re not so bad. Edith isn’t terrible. I like that. It means wealth.”

“Henry named Edith,” he said. “I wanted to name her Murray.”

I laughed, playing with the lead. “Murray? For a mare? How odd. Though, I dare say that’s no better than Shadow. I felt rather simple with that. As you’ll guess, he’s black. God forbid you and I ever have children; they wouldn’t stand a chance, would they?”

Cyrus choked. “Come again?”

I paused in horror. “I meant separately , of course. I don’t know why I said it like that.”

“Aye,” he said.

“I-I meant, like, perhaps we would benefit from hiring a third party to assist us in– You. Me. Ourselves apart, to…to name our children.”

A crack of thunder tore across the field, both scaring and saving me at once.

“Cock it all to Hell,” Cyrus muttered.

“What was that?” I asked.

His face scrunched; he shielded his view with a saluted hand, and with the other, he pulled Ice’s strap. The first came down to gather Tails’s reins, and he did the same to them.

“Let’s hurry,” he said.