Page 23 of The Ostler's Boy

I heaved so noticeably that Mr. Evergreen’s eyes fell directly to the top of my breasts. Another shocked inhale exacerbated the whole disruption and bothered him so greatly that he had to take a long step away from me. Then, impatiently, he leveled the lip of his shirt and lowered his brow concerned.

“I beg your mercy, Your Highness. My pardon,” he said.

“Did you just–?”

“I meant no offense,” he said.

“You looked at my breasts,” I said.

He shifted uncomfortably. “Your breasts moved in a manner that was difficult to miss. I did not leer upon them like some…some….” He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

I hadn’t meant to say anything in response, but “...You remind me of him in so many ways,” came out without my permission.

“Of Sam?” he asked. His face bent further.

“No, of the ostler’s boy,” I said. I stopped. “I-I mean of no one. You remind me of no one. I’m sorry. I misspoke.”

Cyrus put his hands into his slacks. “Who’s the ostler’s boy?” he asked, cocking his head.

“No one of consequence,” I hurried. “Forget I said it.”

“I thought you misspoke?”

“Yes.”

“Did you misspeak? Or is he no one of consequence?” he asked. “I’m confused.”

I wagged my head.

“Fine. I suppose I can pretend to forget you said it, but you said it for a reason,” he said. “Is this boy… a friend of yours, Princess? How do I remind you of him?”

It was his mouth, I wanted to say, but I did not. “The boy was my friend,” I told him, sobering. “A very long time ago. I have not seen him in many moons, and I do not know why I compared you two. I imagine that was very odd. I apologize.”

I shook myself from the memory of clover-shaped lips and tousled blond hair beneath the waning night.

“Was he just a friend?” he asked.

“Yes!” I croaked, standing taller. “He was just a friend. He’s the boy I skipped stones with, if you must know, but that’s it!”

“Right.” Cyrus shot another rock over the water harder. “Close friends then, I’m sure.”

“And?” I asked.

He feigned a grin. “First, you misspoke, then you miscompared us, and now you expect me to believe you were close friends with a stable buck,” he said.

“Do not call him that!” I tensed, his rocks falling from my hand. I swiped one palm over the other, sweeping the dirt, and I closed my eyes to fight the urge to reveal my pain to him and the threat of Miss Hellveig’s awful voice rattling in my mind.

Stable buck! she yelled.

“Please,” I whispered.

Mr. Evergreen folded his arms. “You called him the ostler's boy. I cannot use stable buck? What is an ostler’s boy if not a buck?” he asked.

“Stop it,” I breathed. “Please.”

“You don’t remember his name,” he said. “What a very close friend he must have been, so readily forgotten.”

“Mr. Evergreen,” I tried.

“Yet, if I say stable buck–”

“Please!” I begged. “Please. You cannot use that term.”

Cyrus was staring deep into my soul. I felt raw. I felt exposed, edging on seen in a way I couldn’t prevent— in a way I didn’t want him to see. I didn’t want him to know what I had done.

He looked me over. “It’s not an offense,” he said.

“Of course, I know it’s not a real offense,” I told him. “Of course, I know his name, too, but what do I have to prove to you, Mr. Evergreen? What good does seeding this pain harvest?” I clenched my chest.

“Pain?” he asked. “Then he was more than a friend, was he?”

“Forget I said anything. I beg you,” I said.

“Like you forgot his name?” he asked.

“You’re being quite cruel.”

“Not as cruel as forgetting an entire man, I’d say,” Cyrus said. “No, you’d have to be quite intentional about that, wouldn’t you?”

“I–” My voice hitched. I had to hold my breath to stop myself from crying.

I hadn’t forgotten Ser Willem, I thought. On the contrary, I had devoted nearly half of a decade toward finding him, toward apologizing. I had commissioned Elías to help me. I had risked Hellveig’s wrath despite how deeply I feared her, and what did I have to show for those years? Nothing. Willem was gone, and Cyrus, Cyrus Evergreen was a rake and an ass! He didn’t deserve the comparison I had offered him. I wished to reel it back into my mouth. I wished–I gasped for breath.

Over my panting, he asked, “If we are so similar, I wonder if your buck would feel the same as I? I don’t think he’d label me the cruel one here.”

My eyes stung. I didn’t want to be outside any longer. I didn’t want to be around Mr. Evergreen any longer. I wanted to go home. Home home, to brood by the fire in my tower of ice, where the only words that would ever hurt me were whispers no one intended for me to hear. Words that I stumbled upon while I was lurking around and eavesdropping despite my best interests. I wanted to be alone. Alone alone, where no one could see me, dissect me, accuse me, or terrorize me with games or secrets, or talk about my mother, and I-

“Svana?” He touched my arm. “Steady on; you’re impossibly pale.”

I stumbled back. “You’re being quite cruel,” I repeated.

“My father was an ostler,” he said, quickly. He took a kinder hesitation. “Stable buck is not a slur; it’s just a word. We call ourselves that. That’s it.”

“I know that!” I said. I threw my gaze into the dirt.

“If you know that, then why are you upset?” he asked.

“Your father was an ostler?” Somewhere, I wept at the synchronicity.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“Just my luck.” An actual tear bled from my eye. “Please, stop. Stop crying, Svana,” I said.

Mr. Evergreen closed the distance enough to vacate the bead from my cheek. “Princess,” he said. “I’m a stable buck. You said I was gifted with horses. Remember? That’s why. See? I’ve grown up with them. I’ve grown up a stable buck,” he said. “Do you understand? It’s not a bad connotation. I did not say it to offend you or your friend or to be cruel. I said it because it is what I am.”

“You asked me if he would feel the same,” I said. “You asked me if he would think that you were the cruel one. You said no.”

“I–Well, yes,” he said. “I’m caught there, I’m afraid, but it is rather lousy to forget someone, don’t you think?”

There was a bitter silence.

“Is your…” I took a moment to lock the memories of feathers and true love away before melting back into a steely facade. “Is your father Henry then?” I asked.

He paused. “Do I look like Henry?”

“Not particularly,” I said. “But you could be adopted.”

“Henry is not my father,” he replied. “I look like my father. I thought I told you? My father’s dead.”

“I’m so sorry; I forgot,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry. Of which territory does your father hail then?” I asked.

“You don’t believe me?” he said. “That Henry is not my father or that my father was an ostler?”

I hooked my hands, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know, sir. I can’t even place the Evergreen name right now, and I hate myself for forgetting him if we’ve met. I seem to be very good at that.”

“Don’t terrorize yourself for it,” he said. “The Evergreens aren’t noble. Do you know every unimportant house in all of Oreia?”

“I know some,” I said quietly. “Especially in the northern territories. And I like names that are pretty like yours. I thought I would remember it, but apparently not. I’m very sorry.”

“No,” he said. “No, don’t be. It’s fine.”

“Was his passing difficult for your mother?” I asked.

“Are we exchanging pleasantries or wounds?”

“She’s gone, too,” I realized. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m making everything worse.”

“No. She…She passed when I was very young,” he said.

“...Mine, too.”

“I know.”

“Of course you know, ” I grimaced. “Everyone talks so very much. Don’t they? Hardly a secret I could afford for myself, I suppose. Everyone knows everything of me and of her, her insanity, but I know nothing of anyone!”

Mr. Evergreen relaxed. “They only talk about you and your family because no one asks them about themselves.”

Isaac made a sad whinny, dancing on her hooves to interrupt our show. He reached into one of the satchels that hung off the side of her and pulled out a crimson sphere.

“...You brought apples?” I asked.

“Aye. For Ice. And I’d offer you one, but I think you might take offense to that. I’m really not out to remind you of anything. The horses are just accustomed to a certain lifestyle.”

“Well. Perhaps they’re spoiled, but it’s not every day that a man brazenly eats fruit off of my plate and then winks about his crime to boot. I can’t see how I’d forget, though I appreciate the effort not to conjure it, Mr. Evergreen. Maybe you have a future in poison tasting for some lonely King, should you grow tired of swinging steel for this one? My father might even hire you. He talks about things like that…What?”

“...I meant I did not wish to remind you of Sam and Agatha, Your Highness.”

“Oh.”

“In the hall.”

“Oh, no,” I said. I had discarded thoughts of the Prince’s indiscretion. Cyrus saw me do it. He saw me babble on about him eating my apple, and I– “I think we should head back,” I said.

“Alright,” he agreed. There was a strange moment between us as he wet his lips and looked intently at me. “On one condition,” he said.

“What? What condition?” I asked. “You cannot condition me; I’m your superior. If I say go, we go.”

“What was the boy’s name?” he asked.

“Mr. Evergreen, no,” I said.

“I won’t share it,” he vowed. “If that’s the concern. I promise. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Oh, sure. You won’t run back to your precious, ugly mug Sameer and tell him then?”

“Like I told him of our dance?” he asked.

“I–” He hadn’t.

“What would I tell him, Your Highness? Of the existence of an adolescent romance with a boy you don’t remember?” he asked. “I’m sure he’ll be very jealous, yes. It might devastate him, actually.”

“I do remember him!” I argued. “And he was just a friend.”

“Sure, Princess,” he said. “A friend with benefits?”

“Shhhhh!” I hissed. My eyes searched around us. “You could get him into a horrific amount of trouble associating him with me in such a way!” I said. “You must stop at once. It isn’t funny!”

He made a point to check where I had looked, then he craned in. “Do you defend all your friends this way?” he asked. “Or just the special ones?”

“He could get hurt!” I urged.

“Yes, he could, Your Highness. He absolutely could get hurt, but why would I want him to? And frankly, you’d have to know his name for me to use it, if I were so evil,” he said. “How can I even summon him if you don’t know his–”

“I do remember it!”

“It’s alright that you’ve forgotten,” he said. “It was so many moons ago. I’m sure he’d forgive you. You’re the Princess. You know so many names. Especially pretty ones, yes? Oh, wait. Is that it? His name wasn’t pretty enough for you, so you discarded it?”

“Why should I tell you if it was or wasn’t?” I asked. My jaw was tight.

“Why wouldn’t you?” he returned. “Why hide it? Why protect it? You were friends. Just friends. Like we’re just friends now, yes? No, hold on, wait!” He held his hands up in feigned concern, then covered his heart. “Will you forget my name now?”

“ Willem!” I yelled.

He straightened.

“Okay?” I asked. I mirrored his posture. “His name was Willem. Are you happy now?”

“...His name was Willem?” he asked.

“Yes. Willem ólason. His father, the same. And his and his. It was a family name; it was pretty, you’ll ask me next, but I must implore you to resist! Please. Stop taunting me! You’ve won. Do not speak it again…Okay? Please.”

Cyrus ran his hand through his bangs.

“Say something, will you?” I said. “I command it.”

He said, “Was that so hard to remember? ”

We met eyes. I frowned.

“Was it?” he asked.

“I didn’t remember it, sir. You cannot remember something you never forgot! Is that what you want to hear? That I’ve never forgotten him? Then you’ll revel in the fact that I never will. You’ll be ecstatic to know he haunts my dreams. You may have pried his name from my cold, dead memory, but I only withheld it from you because I wanted it for myself! Do you get it? I desperately hate to share the things that I love! So, go on, mock me for it. Say whatever it is that you will! I don’t care. I will endure whatever you feel fit! But you cannot say his name ever. If you do, I’ll— I’ll?—”

“What else?” Cyrus asked.

“What–What do you mean what else?” I whined. “What else will I never forget? Or what–”

“What else do you remember about your Willem?” he asked.

“You accused me of not recalling his name,” I said. “I think I have very clearly proved you incorrect, once again, in your outstanding opinion of me, sir! I will not continue to embarrass myself by humoring anymore of your stupid interrogations.”

“What else do you remember about your Willem?” he asked.

I had to bite my tongue to keep from savaging him with my father’s rage. It coursed heatedly through my veins, begging to get out to injure Mr. Evergreen’s heinous vanity.

“I don’t want to play this game, sir,” I warned.

He didn’t care. “What else do you remember about your Willem?” Cyrus asked.

I was shaking.

“What else, Svana?” he pressed.

“He…”

“I don’t share your secrets,” he said. “I just like to hear them. I like to hear what it is you like,” he said.

I replayed his statement. “What?”

“Tell me,” he whispered.

“He… He had blond hair,” I allowed.

“Good. Your Willem was blond, was he?” he checked.

“Yes,” I said. “Curls. Quite unruly, really. They always fell in his face.”

“And?”

“I don’t understand the point of your questioning,” I said. “Is this… Are you…?”

“What else do you remember of your ostler’s boy, Svana?” he asked.

I gave in. “I...I remember his eyes. And his mouth.”

“His mouth, huh?” He quirked a grin.

“Yes. It was wonderfully round and always got him in and out of trouble. Especially with the staff. Especially with my governess.” I swallowed. “And I remember that he was stupidly chivalrous.”

Mr. Evergreen paused. “All that just to call him stupid?”

“He wasn’t stupid , sir. He was stupidly chivalrous,” I explained. “One is worse than the other.”

“Which?”

“Oh!” I moaned. “What do you know anyway? Willem was a knight! You’re just a flirty sword in an expensive sheath!”

Mr. Evergreen balked boldly. “Oh! A knight was he?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“Your Willem sounds quite fantastical! How grand for him to rise from stable buck to knight! How very impossible.”

“He–”

“And to think, how much better that must make him than me in your eyes, Swan.”

“You have nothing to do with this, Mr. Evergreen,” I said.

“No, no. Don’t back down from the insults now, love,” he said. There was an insistence in his voice. “Don’t call me mister; don’t call me Sir, for I am nothing but shiny steel in pretty fabric, aye?”

“Oh!” I marched toward him, squaring my frame, calling out to the imaginary crowd around us. “Hurry! Come quick! Someone fetch me a tiny violin! Not-A-Lord Cyrus Evergreen wishes to sing his ballad for us! On and on it goes, how much lesser he is than everyone else! Hear ye! Hear ye! Here comes the refrain!”

His eyes were a fiery twister of whatever level of anger burned for the comment.

An entire quarter of a minute passed between us, but it felt like time had stopped entirely. There was nothing but kindling hate as we stared into each other’s ardor, neither wanting to back down. But then, strangely, he began to laugh .

Cyrus rolled his eyes. I didn’t know what else to do but watch him in his deranged snickering until it slowed and tapered off into a reserved, albeit smug smile.

“That was good. How long did you have that one stored?” he asked.

“What?” I asked.

“We should go. It’s getting late,” he told me. His voice was calm.

I knotted my arms. “I’m not leaving,” I said.

“Fine.” He nodded once. “Enjoy the bugs then.”

Cyrus began to gather our rides. I watched him for another moment.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “You can’t abandon me!”

He stopped and glanced at me, unconvinced. “You sure?”

“D-Don’t,” I said. “Don’t abandon me. …Please?”

“Moments ago, you begged me to leave. Why the change of heart?” he asked.

“…You…” I scrambled for an excuse. “You have information,” I said. “About Sam and Agatha. I want it. And I will not relent until I get what I want.”

“And you think the horses are spoiled, yeah?” His look became more serious as he approached. “Do you like ordering people around as it pleases you, Princess?”

I gave him a theatrical shrug. “I am a monarch; that’s literally what I do.”

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll play. Ask.”

“I knew you wou-! Wait. Did you say fine?” I asked. “Why did you give up so easily?”

“Because I want to give you what you want, Princess,” he said. His brow moved in a mischievous way that suited him.

“Y-You do?” I asked.

“Yes… But there’s a price, of course,” he said.

“A-A price?”

“Yes. You want something from me. I want something in return,” he said.

“He said to the Princess!”

“I haven’t forgotten who you are,” he replied. “You hardly make it easy. In fact, you make quite the impression on a man. I’m sure you are well aware of what I mean when I say that. Play coy all you want, but I’ve done very poorly to hide my feelings on your affect. Haven’t I?”

“I… Mr. Evergreen… I…I am absolutely certain you are flirting with me now,” I said.

“I’m insulting you, but whatever’s clever, I suppose.”

“I, uh.” I flustered. “W-What do you want from me? Copper? Or is it gold?” I asked.

“I don’t want your money,” he said. “I have money.”

“N-No?”

“No. And I want to preface this– you don’t have to give me what I want,” he said. “But the information… It’s well-kept for a reason. I have to set a proper cost.”

“I don’t understand. You just said you didn’t want my money?” I told him. “Now suddenly you’re what, a mercenary?”

“Love, money is not the only currency,” he said.

I looked around, but then, abruptly, I was very aware of the poetry of what he meant, based upon his intrusive eyes alone. I felt unseated. Soon, his gaze twisted into a mix of confusion and worry, and I breathed quicker.

He wanted something else, I thought.

“W-What are you asking for?” I dared. “I, um, for–” Me was the word I couldn’t say. “O-On second thought,” I said. “I, um, I don’t need to know anything, and I think we should go. Right away. We should go right away, sir.”

My face felt red. Mr. Evergreen lost the smirk on his.

He obeyed the request with a polite, “Of course. The hour is late.” Then, he moved to secure the saddlebags on each horse.

“It’s—” I paused. “It’s just getting dark, is all.”

“Aye. It is,” he said.

“Did you…” I couldn’t ask. I wouldn’t ask what it was he wanted. If he had meant words or a kiss or more…I cleared my throat, searching for something else to say in the question’s place. “Did you mean to ride so long?”

He shrugged. “I lost track of time.”

“I see.”

“Listen.” There was a lingering sort of wait between his thought. “I’ll be unavailable for the next few days.”

“Unavailable?” I asked.

“Aye. If you wish to continue our brawls, send for me mid-week. If I don’t hear from you…I understand,” he said. “I was incredibly forward, and I apologize. To save you the trouble, I’ll make up an excuse for Sam.”

“You’ll be unavailable?” I asked.

“That’s what I said, yes.”

“What? Why?” I asked.

“I didn’t say,” he said.

“Is this because I–”

Cyrus shook his head. “No, of course not,” he hurried. “Your Highness, I misread our connection, and I’m sorry for it. Please do not believe your behavior has shaped my plans in any way. I simply have somewhere I need to be.”

“And that is where?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. He gestured to my blouse, where mud had appeared across its design. He said, “You know, you wear a shocking level of pastels for such a messy woman. If you committed to a proper color already, Miss Josie might thank you for it.”

“What?” I asked.

“Your clothes. They’re as pale as you are,” he said. “Makes it hard for–”

“Fashion advice?” I asked. The jeer baffled me more than ‘cost’ had. “From the man who dresses so loudly an orchestra could not outplay him?”

That brought a genuine smile to his face. He presented himself with the full length of his wingspan and a decorative spin. “Not all pretty sheaths are impractical, Princess. They still guard the blade.”

“What?”

“Colors, Your Highness. Colors are easier to clean,” he said. “Just leave it for your seamstress if Josie has trouble. You’ll damage the lace if you pick at it too much.”

The spark between us was back. I both hated and loved how he brandished his knowledge over me, but if Mr. Evergreen felt the same effect of the temptation in his words that I did, he did nothing to let it bother him. I tried not to explore the shape of his torso before his arms came down to shield it from my gaze.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

He canted his head at that. “With the lace?”

“No, you’re… You’re unavailable,” I said. “For a week.”

“Not a week. A few days,” he told me. “And while I intend to return before mid-week, I have obligations with the Prince. If you wish to continue to ride, send for me by then.”

“Are you tired of riding?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then are you tired of riding with me?” I asked.

“I–”

We both stopped.

“Sam and I are going hunting,” he explained.

“Ew.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“But you don’t like hunting,” I said. “Sam told me that.”

“I don’t particularly care for it, no. But I care for Sam, and Sam likes hunting, so hunting I go,” he said. “That’s the bloody rub with friendship, love. Sometimes you do things you don’t want to do because you care about the other person and their interests.”

“Well, you like horses,” I argued. “By your logic, Sam should be out here riding with you, and yet?”

“Aye.”

“But I like horses. Perhaps you should just stay here with me all summer? We’re friends, right?”

“We are if you say we are,” he said. “But Sam is my best friend.”

“What am I supposed to do in your leave?” I asked.

“You’re unhappy with the time?”

“Yes. Not only am I secondary to the Prince, but now I must entertain myself in place of what was his idea.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Fine? Sam has many friends to divide his attention to. You’re my only friend. Surely that reality might trump his interests somehow?”

“I think I should be touched that you will miss me so,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be. I’ll be bored, and boredom is quite dangerous when you’re smart.”

“I guess you’ll be fine, Your Highness.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“A joke, of course. But I am happy I’ve not ruined our friendship with my misconduct then. And if you must ride, take your knight with you. I hear you like knights, yeah?”

I tsked.

“That was a joke about your boy,” he said.

“I figured,” I said. I folded my arms. “You promised not to speak of him.”

“No. I promised not to reveal your Willem’s name to Sameer,” he returned. “I did not vow to not tease you about it all. You are a fool if you thought that was the case.”

I stomped to my steed and tried to hoist myself into the saddle, muttering, “Aye. I’m foolish. And dumb. And agitated, Sword!”

“Seeing how upset your buck makes you only fuels my disobedience, you know?” he said.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m well aware my misery gets you off.” I gasped. ”I… I certainly don’t know what came over me to say that, sir.” Finally, I made it into the seat. “I’m so sorry.”

He looked up, a wisp of animation to his face. He checked my saddle and its straps.

“What happened to the boy?” he asked. “If you care for him so dearly, why are you no longer friends?”

“With respect, Mr. Evergreen, I would sooner throw myself from this creature and over a cliff into the very bowels of that valley before I told you that,” I said. “Now. I am ready to go. So, if you would be so kind, lead the way.”

He smiled for some stupid reason. I turned Tails toward our path and did not say another word of knights or promises the whole way back to the Palace. Yet, despite my intentions, all I could think about was what cost Mr. Evergreen had tried to barter for and of how cowardly I was not to force him to reveal it or at least what he knew about the Prince.