Page 24 of The Ostler's Boy

I thought about Mr. Evergreen all evening, even when I tried to reroute my fantasies to Ser Willem. I thought about his lips. I thought about his words. I thought about how angry he had made me and how stupidly bold he’d been, spinning around to declare himself a useful sheath. When I fell asleep, it all became an intertwined idea. Willem was Evergreen. Evergreen was Willem.

I dreamed of chasing my long-lost love through the thick emerald forest of King’s Land, past the deep roots of pines and river birches we always nearly tripped over, and through the spires of light that blessed our youthful skin. When I caught his specter once and for all, I dreamed it kissed me but then became the swordsman, and that was the cost he’d waited for. Worse, I was pleased with it. When I woke up, the whole day was Mr. Evergreen’s. There was no escape.

“Are you alright, miss?” Miss Josie asked.

I glanced at her reflection in the mirror as the seamstress marked places on my latest dress.

“Hmm?”

She asked again. “Are you alright? You seem distracted.”

“I’m not distracted,” I said.

The two of them shared a look. Josie said, “She asked you a question. Did you hear it?”

I shook my head. “I’m so very sorry. What did you say?” I asked.

The tailor smiled softly. “I asked if you preferred the longer sleeve or not.”

“Oh,” I said, nodding. “I liked the ruffled one. The shorter of the two.”

“Of course, ma’am,” she said.

But Josie peered at me. She stood faithfully near the vanity and held one hand to her skirt and the other to the surface of the desk. The seamstress circled me once more with her tape.

“I’m fine,” I promised. “I’m just thinking of Mr. Evergreen is all.”

“Of Mr. Evergreen?” Josie asked.

Even the seamstress was caught off guard by my remark.

“Not in an inappropriate way!” I hurried. “I meant…” I shrugged. “I was simply debating on if I would send for him today or not.”

“For what?” Josie asked. Her eyes darted to the other woman and then back.

“No, I–” I laughed, for whatever reason, then scrunched my face, shaking it off, pressing a pair of fingertips to my brow. “No, he asked that I send for him if I decided to continue our ride…ing lessons. Our riding lessons,” I said.

“That, um, that should be the last of it I need,” the seamstress said, rising from her knees. “You’re certain on the swatches, Your Highness?”

“Yes, thank you.” I nodded.

Josie offered the ones she held. “I thought you did not enjoy your riding lessons with Mr. Evergreen?”

“No,” I said. Then I dismissed it. “I mean yes, but no.”

“Yes but no?” she asked.

She was rightfully confused. I stepped away and went to the wardrobe to pick out a frock.

“I do enjoy his company,” I said. “Lessons, I mean. I enjoy his lessons. And, one must admit, he does provide some insight into life here in Chalke within them…” I found the modiste. “After all, he was the one that suggested I call for you. See?”

“I see,” the woman said. “I’ll have to thank Mr. Evergreen for the client, then.”

“Well,” I added. “Actually, thank His Highness; the Prince called you originally. I just meant about the lace I needed cleaned. Ahem. Mr. Evergreen suggested that if I had trouble with it, I should call an expert.”

“Of course,” she said. “Well, I am good with lace.”

“Anyway,” I went on, addressing Josie. “I thought I might wear the pink today.” I checked it, coercing the uncertainty of wearing something so embellished with life down my throat.

“The pink, miss?” Josie asked. “Did you not say it was too bright?”

“Must I think of something profound about it being a new day, Miss Jocelyn? Or can I just wear the dress without the inquisition, please?” At her reaction, I caved. “Fine, if you must know, the comment was made that I tend to wear too light a palette for my complexion, and I thought, only because he dresses so well, that I might humble myself enough to experiment with colors others see fit.”

“Ah,” she said. “It was a suggestion, then.”

I frowned, and the tailor coughed.

She said, “Your next gown will arrive Friday morning, ma’am, but the other dresses will be delivered after the start of next week.”

I nodded.

“If that’s all?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “And thank you for doing this on such short notice.” I waved politely, only to call for her right as she had met the door. “Oh! Wait!” I pointed to the end table. “The lace! Duh. As I said, I wasn’t able to remove the mud from it. Er, it isn’t mud. It’s some sort of clay if that helps.”

“Clay?” she asked.

“Aye,” I said. “It must have splashed on us while we were racing near the river. I hope it’s not too much. Mr. Evergreen said you would know how to mend it.”

She nodded, collecting it and folding it. “Yes, ma’am. He is correct. I am good with lace.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. One last piece?” I asked, digging out a handkerchief from a drawer. “Its emblem. It’s my house’s horse. Unfortunately, it’s seen better days. I’m not sure how you might revive it, but I figured I could ask.” I passed it over. “Josie, give her a piece of my stationary, would you? It has the crest I’m trying to match.”

“Of course,” Josie said.

“Is it too difficult?” I asked.

“No…” The tailor paused to touch it, then suddenly, came to life and smiled, shaking her head. Something felt off. “No, Your Highness. I can fix just about anything. It shouldn’t take long if I start now.” Her eyes lingered on me a moment longer, and then she went.

Josie stifled a look.

“What?” I muttered, retreating to the seat.

“While you were racing?” she asked.

“Mr. Evergreen,” I replied.

“I think I figured that,” she said.

I pretended to be interested in something in front of me, but could not help but peer out the window. Prince Sameer and Cyrus took strikes at one another, parrying around the yard. It was quite remarkable. Quite aggressive.

Jocelyn followed my line of sight. She sweetly brushed my hair. “I see the Prince is outside,” she said.

“Yes. On Wednesdays, he has lessons with his instructor.”

“His instructor,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Yes,” she said.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Josie adapted a brighter pitch. “Just that his instructor happens to be your riding instructor, too. It’s weird you forgot his name, though.”

“Mr. Evergreen?” I asked. “I didn’t forget it. I just said it.”

“You’re being awkward about it.”

“Awkward?” We met in the mirror, and I was sure she’d caught the full force of my agony as it appeared, flooding my face a vapid red. “Not me.”

“Then why call him an instructor?” she asked. “Call him Mr. Evergreen.”

“Mr. Evergreen is Sameer’s instructor.”

“And yours, apparently,” she said.

“Yes. And?”

“Nothing.”

“Josie.”

“I mean, I do think it’s strange that the Eisson Princess would need lessons. I heard you all were born with the ability to ride.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “Besides. I…It’s never too late to learn something, right? And, fine. Fine, okay? I didn’t know what to call him in front of the tailor, Josie. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea, so I just…I called him that. It’s not like she knows I know how to ride.”

“I find that less is more,” she said.

I paused, and then I rolled my eyes exhaustively. “Whatever that means,” I said, but I snuck a glance outside.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” she replied. Her tone suggested that she did.

My brow began its descent as a quiet unsettling burred in my chest. Then Sam struck Mr. Evergreen in the shoulder, and the swordsman stumbled, and I rose anxiously from my seat to follow his course.

“They’re using practice swords,” Josie all but sang. She pressed me back down. “I’m sure His Highness is fine.”

“His Highness hit Mr. Evergreen,” I said.

“Aye. I saw the exchange.” She gestured toward the pins left on the desk, and I handed her one. “I thought you wished for me to join you in pretending to root for the Prince?” she asked.

“I-! Oh .” I squirmed. “Josie . What?”

Her smirk was clear.

“…Is it so obvious?”

“That you dislike His Highness? Or that you like his instructor, Mr. Evergreen?” she asked.

I didn’t reply.

“Sorry, your instructor, Mr. Evergreen,” she said.

“I didn’t know what else to say!” I said. “She’s a stranger! I was worried she would misinterpret it if she knew Evergreen and I just rode around together all day, all alone! Is it really, truly so obvious that I…?”

“If you ask me as your maid, no. Of course not, Your Highness. You’re so very sly,” she said.

“And if I ask you as a friend?”

“It’s a little obvious,” she said.

“How?” I asked. “How is it obvious?”

“Come. I’m only teasing you,” she said.

“No,” I insisted. “Truly. You must help me conceal this, this…this…!”

“Crush?” she asked.

“Crush?” I cried. “How dare you!”

“How dare I? What? Finish your sentence? What would you call it if not a crush?” she asked.

“I…. I do not know, but I do not wish for anyone, let alone Mr. Evergreen, to know either!”

She was careful. “Alright. Concealing. Got it. Then I will say you’re very animated when speaking of or to one of the men but not the other. It is best to regulate your tone and err on the side of caution in the delivery of such interactions. I’m surely not the only one who will take notice if you continue to bounce giddily when Evergreen is brought up.”

“I don’t bounce giddily!” I said. “I am usually angry at him.”

“Oh, I know. And I’m sure you’ll hate me for it; I’m certain Mr. Evergreen knows of your preference, too.”

“He does?” I caught myself. “I mean, what preference? …Stop it,” I demanded. “This is a horrible, temporary affliction, is all.” I felt my forehead with the back of my hand. “Do I feel warm?”

“He might not know,” she said. “But men like that…They have a way of detecting these things. I wouldn’t wager he won’t be in the dark for much longer if somehow he is now.”

“Then you think he knows?” I asked.

She bared her teeth uncertainly. “Likely, yes.”

“Oh no,” I said.

“That’s not to say it isn’t mutual,” she said.

“Mutual?” I found the floor. “No. No. No.”

Josie went on, but I didn’t hear her response.

I looked up to see the seamstress stroll out from the canopy beneath my window. She passed the men and drew both of their interests. She didn’t even look at them; they looked at her . Then they whispered to each other the way I knew Blades did when they fancied someone, and I was mad.

I was mad that Mr. Evergreen rested his sword to his side in order to spend a concerning amount of energy watching her leave. I was mad I didn’t care that Sam had looked at all.

My mouth was dry.

“Miss?” Josie asked.

“Do you think he likes her?” I asked.

She tucked one of the pins into my waves. “The Prince?”

“The Prince,” I balked. “I… You see… He… Josie, listen. What I tell you, you must contain it to this room,” I ordered.

“Of course,” she said.

“It cannot leave. Not ever.”

“And it shall not leave. Not by my lips,” she said.

“He… He has someone else in mind…If you gather?” I said. I watched the boys converse. I watched them shove each other playfully. “He has another woman. A woman who is not me. It’s Miss Agatha.”

“…You’re speaking of the Prince?” she asked.

“What do you mean? Who else would I be speaking of?”

Josie blinked a couple of times. “Mr. Evergreen, of course.”

“Wait. Aren’t you surprised? His Highness is having an affair,” I said.

“I’m very sorry.”

“You’re sorry, but you knew?” I asked.

She pinned another piece.

“Is everyone gossiping?” I asked.

“No. They’re not gossiping,” she said.

“But you do know? How?”

“Hmm.” She breathed cooly. “If I answer, you must promise he won’t face consequence.”

“He? Who’s he? Who told you?” I asked. “Mr. Evergreen?”

She looked confused. “I don’t talk to Mr. Evergreen, but I simply cannot tell you who told me unless you promise me his safety.”

“Fine. Yes. I promise. Your rat won’t face consequence,” I said. “Now tell me. Who told you about the Prince?”

“Ser Willoughby,” she said.

I frowned. “I’m humiliated.”

She shook her head. “No. No, don’t be humiliated, miss. This sort of thing happens to the best of us.”

“How many people has he told?” I asked.

“Has he…?” She turned her head. “You think Daniel is spreading rumors?”

“Well, he told you, didn’t he?” I asked.

Josie cocked a smile.

“What?”

“I would not fear that man’s tongue if I were you,” she said.

“And why not?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s not spreading anything. He’s remarkably devoted to your well-being, and he didn’t even want to tell me, I just…I convinced him to. As is my ability.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means your maid is very good at what she does, and what she does is protect you, miss. However,” she said, straightening my face in the mirror. “I cannot be so good if I do not know everything. Yes?” She preened herself proudly. “That is why you must be honest with me at all times. Who better to dismiss gossip than those behind it?”

“What? Who’s behind the gossip?” I asked. “You?”

“The help, miss,” she said. “And we’re not just behind it. We are the gossip. We hear it all. We tell it all.”

“That’s horrible.”

“There’s not much else to do. Though I am by far the best listener, and lucky for you, I am well on your side,” she explained. “However, there is nothing I love more in this world than a good, juicy secret.”

“And how does that benefit me?” I worried. “Is your interest not in exploiting it?”

“And ruin my fun, Your Highness? No. Secrets lose their luster with every ear they’ve gained,” she said. “Like jewels, secrets are far less important the more common they are. Would you not agree?”

“I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“See? It’s all about perspective. And for that fact, I do desperately hope Mr. Evergreen gives your Prince a run for his wealth.”

“What?” I asked. “A run for—No one’s running, Miss Jocelyn! Mr. Evergreen and I are friends.”

She pointed outside. “In their spar.”

“Oh. Oh,” I said.

She giggled. “I’ve caught you,” she boasted.

“No, you haven’t. You—Wait . Daniel? Did you call Ser Willoughby Daniel? ” I asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

“Yes, you did,” I said. “You—Oh. Oh. We’re calling him Daniel, are we?”

“If I called him that, I’m certain it’d be a secret,” she replied.

“A secret? He doesn’t know?” I asked.

“No, he knows,” she said. “At least he asked that I call him that. I just do not care for anyone else to know that I’m considering complying with his request.” She pursed her lips. “We’re friends, too.”

“You and my cousin are friends?” I asked.

“Does friends mean something different for you and Evergreen?” she asked.

“No. We’re friendly,” I said. “More like acquaintances.”

She smiled. “If you say so.”

“...Does Willoughby call you Josie?” I asked.

“You call me Josie,” she replied.

“Yes, but–” A realization struck: Mr. Evergreen had called me Svana. Not Your Highness. Svana. And more than once.

She stared at me. “...But?”

“Nothing,” I said.

She shrugged. “Ser Willoughby calls me Miss Jocelyn, not Josie, even though I’ve asked. I don’t know how to fix that.”

I could not shake the thought of my name from Evergreen’s lips.

“Jocelyn… Just how versed are you in the social differences between men and women? Honestly?”

“I do fine,” she said.

“I think… Actually, I know that Mr. Evergreen came on to me.”

She raised a brow. “Oh? And you allowed it?”

“Not really, no,” I said. “I think I rejected him.”

“You think you did?” she asked. “That’s an interesting concept. There are many layers to that statement. Did you not intend to reject his advance?”

“He called me Svana,” I said.

“Oh.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s not an advance, my lady. That’s nothing. The man is close with His Highness; he’s likely just being?—”

“It wasn’t nothing. He…” I looked back out the window. “God, I can’t believe I’m even speaking of this. Never mind.”

Josie paused. “Unless you’re suggesting Mr. Evergreen said something else?”

“No,” I lied.

“I see.” She eased, and after a brief lull, she said, “Ser Willoughby was the one that insisted that I use his first name. I’ll admit that I have entertained the idea, but I have yet to call the courage required to implement it into conversation with him. It simply slipped out with you, as I…I have thought of barely anything but his name. I…I hope to continue our friendliness. I enjoy his company. He’s very kind. …You’re not angry, are you?” she asked.

“Angry? About Ser Willoughby’s name?”

“No, ma’am. About the idea of me and…well, a knight? Us. Us communicating in such an intimate manner, Your Highness.”

I raised a brow. “Then by friends, you mean friends?”

She meekly nodded. “Maybe.”

I thought about it. “I don’t exert much energy toward my cousin’s personal life,” I said, deciding. “I mean, as a knight, I suppose I should, and perhaps if it were Ser Elías, I would be moderately concerned given the age disparity… But I’ve seen older Dukes marry younger women and be just fine. Ser Willoughby is… He’s…” I struggled to find what to say, but I didn’t know him. “You must understand, he is my second cousin. He went to boarding school while I had lessons at home. He—Until he was assigned to His Majesty, I don’t think I could have told you a thing about him. Except once when we were very little, we played Hide and Seek with his brothers. They never looked for us.”

“That sounds very sad,” she said.

“It was,” I told her, humorously. “I hid for way too long before I realized. I didn’t realize, actually. Willoughby found me after some time. In his defense, I was in the crypt.”

“Are his brothers very mean?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” I said.

Josie sighed sweetly. “It’s nothing, my lady. Just a silly crush. One of my own. See? They’re very common, and I’m very certain it’s one-sided, and regardless...”

“If Ser Willoughby asked you to call him Daniel, I don’t know how one-sided it is. I’m not the expert in the matter, but…Mr. Evergreen asked that I call him Cyrus, so…”

“There is something you’re not telling me,” she said.

“Should I speak to Ser Willoughby for you?”

“Absolutely not,” she cried. “No. No. To what end? It’s not as though he’d grow to love me or ask for my hand. And even if that were a possibility, I can’t foresee a future in which His Majesty would ever consider the match. Not that I… I’m not expecting it. I’m not trying to manifest it or anything. I just enjoy Daniel–Ser Willoughby’s jokes. I just like talking to him. He makes me feel… safe.”

“Alright, but I would have no intention to inform my father of such things for as long as it’s just a crush. Not unless you discover that the connection is as meaningful for Ser Willoughby as it is for you. I would exclude him until then.”

“Oh, please. No. I didn’t mean?—”

“The King is very rigid when it comes to relationships. For that, you’d sooner have his blessing marrying Ser Elías, as he does seem to let ole Eli do whatever he wants, I think.”

“Miss, please. I was just daydreaming out loud.”

“I don’t mind. Daydreaming is nice. And it helps to be prepared in life. Perhaps if your friendship does blossom into love, we might catch His Majesty on the perfect day, and then fair better asking to wed?”

“Wed?” She was horrified.

“Or we could wait for my reign, but that is an awful long time for me. I’m not sure how soon Willoughby would decla?—”

“No, I didn’t say anything about Ser Willoughby declaring himself!”

“Isn’t that why friendships stir?” I asked. “I’m sorry, I assumed it must be love you were fostering. It’s so complicated, and Ser Willoughby is just so?—”

“Love is not something I’ve even considered,” she said. “And also, did you not just say Mr. Evergreen was your friend?”

“That’s different.” I scoffed. “Mr. Evergreen is Sameer’s best friend, it’s?—”

“Complicated?” she asked.

“Josie.”

“My apologies. I don’t like to be teased.”

“I’m not teasing you,” I said.

“He is a knight, miss.”

“Aye, and I am a princess. You are a maid. That chair is a chair.”

“What?” she asked.

“I don’t care about your station,” I said. “Why does everything think I do? Frankly, I’ve never understood the importance. We’re born this way; we don’t choose who we are. If you like him and he likes you, who am I to deny you your perfect match if you think you’ve found him…in Ser Willoughby, no less. Are you sure it is not love?”

“What are you saying?” she asked.

“Well, he’s so…goofy,” I said.

“He isn’t goofy; he’s got a sense of humor. And have you seen him in the yard?” she asked, then giggled. “My, he’s proper fit.”

“Ser Willoughby?” I frowned. “My cousin?”

“Don’t think of him as your cousin,” she said.

“Gross.”

“You should know, he certainly could not speak higher of you if he tried.”

“Oh, he speaks highly of me?” My face contorted. “So I should comment on his body? No way. And, and I don’t believe that’s true. I am awful to him.”

“He’s never said if that’s the case. He admires the contrasts between you and your father.”

“Between me and– Did he say that?” I asked.

“Yes. He said he admired your individuality.”

“He specifically said there was a contrast between the King and I?” I asked.

“Yes, miss.”

“Well, I, well. That is, that is a nice thing to consider,” I said. “I don’t wish to be my father.” I closed my mouth. “Don’t repeat that.”

“Of course,” Josie said. She finished the tail of my braid and tucked it into the start of it. “Miss,” she hesitated. “If you were to foster your friendship…”

“Absolutely not.”

“But if you were,” she said. “I would very much support you.”

I nodded profusely. “There’s certainly no chance of that, Miss Jocelyn.”

“But if there were. If you were to pursue your own affair, I?—”

I choked, scurrying to cover her words and lower mine. “I suppose I should thank you for your loyalty, but… But I have no desire and no ability to develop such connections, especially with Mr. Evergreen. Our friendship would immediately affect the lives of all our empire’s citizens’. So. Thank you for the support, truly, but also no thank you. No. Let us change the subject.”

“But if no one knew of it, it could benefit you in such?—”

“Ser Elías would say, only two can keep a secret if one of them is dead,” I explained. “I think it’s bad luck to wish death upon one’s friends, and I certainly don’t wish to die.”

“That’s very grim,” she said.

“Yes. Well. Um… You, however, may feel free to inform Ser Willoughby of my blessing of your union. If that should help you somehow,” I offered.

“That is completely unnecessary, but I… I thank you for your loyalty and for saying such a thing to me.”

I nodded. “Now. Pretending we did not speak of fostering friendships…Do you…Do you think I should send for him?” I asked. “He said if I wanted to ride, I should. But is it inappropriate knowing what you know? That I…fancy him some?”

“I don’t know anything,” she said. She handed me my quill.

“I just told you he— Oh,” I paused, seeing her face. “Ah, I follow now.”

“You cannot be convicted for your thoughts,” she said. “And, twice now, you’ve confessed you have no meaningful relationships. Perhaps a friend— an actual friend— is something you need? It doesn’t have to be anything else than what it is.”

I played with the pen’s feather. “What do I even say?” I asked.

Josie smiled. “Less is more.”