Page 5 of The Ostler's Boy

T wo hours of sitting in a chair before the assembly ended did nothing for my posture. The King had mostly withheld from speaking to me, but Yosif had outwardly critiqued every response I’d given. My only ally was Mr. Adeline, who occasionally distracted the Archbishop. Yet, tension still festered, to the point that I wondered how in the world my father had even navigated the quorum without striking Yosif in his smug, condescending, rigid face, let alone done so quarterly. Then, I could not help but wonder if his masculinity had something to do with a return of respect. Adeline seemed fine that I was a woman, but the other two… They seemed too focused on my father’s absence.

Still, the meeting was naught but requests from farmers and a few town vendors for gold. There were a couple of complaints of the typical land errors and taxes, and it went on for all of eternity, but after the third time the King found at my braid, I made it into a game. I put a tally in the corner of my notes for each glance, but after eleven, it wasn’t fun. I worried that his son would be offended by it, and I thought to excuse myself, as I felt that brewing in my throat, but then my maid arrived near the door and interrupted as politely as she could.

“Miss Jocelyn?” I asked.

She nodded to the man beside her. He wore a finely crafted vest over his blouse, which bore a broad design of roses. He smiled.

Josie said, “I beg your pardon, sirs. I was pushing Her Highness’s things into her chamber, and I ran into His Royal Highness.” She glanced back at him. A slight nod encouraged her to remain. “He asked that I bring him to her.”

“You’re doing great,” he told her. His attention went to me, and lightning could have crashed to emphasize the moment we locked eyes.

Hurrying his return, the Palace Herald appeared beside the Prince and announced, “Presenting, His Royal Highness, Prince Sameer Azarii IV, of the Chalke Empire.”

My heart panged at confirmation of his importance and at his face. He was gorgeous. Insanely so. He was leanly built and possessed by a flawless, sun-kissed complexion that, while identical to his father’s, made me feel strange and possessed myself. And his air. His very air of confidence! It was all but an effort not to commentate crudely upon how drawn I felt.

“Yes, thank you,” the Prince said to his employee. He was happy again, admiring what I hoped was my own presentation. “You. You must be my Svana.”

I stood abruptly. “Your Highness! I did not realize–I–” I fled around the table and dropped into a slightly less embarrassing curtsy than the one I’d given his father. “Ahem. I did not realize I would be seeing you today.”

He chuckled, and the sound illuminated the entire room. Even Yosif was plagued with a smile.

Both of the Prince’s brows rose as he said, “Not to be dramatic, but God has been too kind to me, should you truly be my Princess. No, I must be dreaming,” he said.

Mr. Adeline got out of his seat to close the hall doors. He gave a small bow to the Prince as he did it, then returned to the table and began to stack his things neatly.

“Adam,” the Prince said.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness,” Adeline returned. “You’ll be happy to know that I can confirm this is the Princess.”

“It’s true,” I said carefully. “I am she.”

The Prince was pleased. He rolled his shoulders into a casual sort of stance. “And here I expected your father in your father’s chair. It’s not often I’m wrong. My. You are every bit of striking. Aren’t you?”

“You humble, Your Highness,” I said.

“Father, do you see how stunning this woman is? How lucky I am.”

My cheeks lit so crimsonly with his compliment that I parroted my words. “You humble me, Your Highness.”

“I see her,” the King replied.

“Please.” His Highness bowed in response; jewels on his hand and wrists glinted as he came up. “Call me Sam. We will be married, and very soon.”

“...Sam,” I practiced. “That feels wrong.”

Sam grinned widely. “Love, I would’ve come twice as fast had I known you were here.” He smacked the back of his hand to the figure arriving next. “Cyrus, have you seen my wife?”

Beside him, the man who approached scoffed, and the noise broke the fantasy, trading my excitement for brutal shock. I became aware of his presence and his identity all at once.

“Evergreen,” I said.

The lord from the marketplace. He shot daggers at my acknowledgment before I fully processed the fact.

“You’ve met?” Sam asked.

Cyrus nodded. The Prince went to pry, but then the King said, “Excellent, Sameer. Now. If it’s all the same, I’d like to have lunch before nightfall, please. We’ve been quite behind.”

“Of course, Father,” he said. His eyes left his friend to rediscover mine. “Ah. The ball!” he said with a snap. “Right!”

“The ball?” I asked.

“Yes, the ball,” Sam said.

“There’s to be a ball?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. He was excited. “To launch the Season. Though with you here, I shall reconfigure it to honor your arrival in tandem. And, of course, to celebrate our engagement.”

“I, uh,” I flustered. “I’m deeply flattered, sir, but I am not prepared for such an affair,” I explained.

“Why not?” he asked. “What preparation do you need to dance?”

“I, well, I came for the quorum,” I said. “I didn’t pack a gown for that.”

“I see. How long are you here?” he asked.

“A fortnight.”

“A fortnight? That’s all?” Sam asked. “No, it won’t do. I must implore you to stay longer.”

“Sam,” Cyrus said.

“Until our wedding night, I say,” he said.

“Our wedding night?”

Evergreen pulled him into a private conference. Sam waved him off.

“Sameer,” the King said.

“No, you’re right, Father,” the Prince said. He sighed loudly. “I suppose that would eliminate your entire summer, and I’m sure you have obligations and whatnot as the Princess. I understand.”

“I don’t, actually,” I said without a thought.

“You don’t?” he asked.

“No.”

“Do you not host events of the Season then?” Lord Evergreen asked.

Sameer and I both looked at him.

“Sorry, how do you know each other?” he asked.

“We met in town,” I said.

“In Town?” Sam checked. “Hold on. You were in town? Just now? Or another day?”

“Well, it was earlier, but.…”

Cyrus shrugged. “I know for a fact there’s a knight’s hunt, isn’t there?” he asked. “You’re at that usually?”

“I-?”

“Cy, I’m sure her father can find a replacement for a bloody hunt,” Sam said. “You met today?” he asked.

“His Majesty wou–” Lord Evergreen caught himself trampling over my attempt to speak. He said, “Apologies,” then gestured for me to finish.

“My pardon, sir,” I said. “He is correct, though. I do have some assignments. Have you attended the Hunt, sir?”

“No.”

Sameer furrowed his brow. “Hunt or not, don’t you think her season should be here with me?”

“I’m not certain my opinion supersedes tradition, Your Highness,” Cyrus said. “I do believe that is the Princess’s role.”

“Huh,” I said.

“Hmm?” Sam asked.

I didn’t know. “It’s just… My lord, I do not mean to correct you, but it’s March still. The Oreian Season does not begin until Autumn. Are things different in your region?”

Sam interjected. “Autumn! Grand.” He was happy about it. “Then you have no cause to leave me,” he said. “I’ll make the arrangements for your stay.”

“I, um.”

“Please,” Sam began. “Please? No? Alright. I understand if you can’t…”

“It’s just that I, I have no idea where to find a dress for such an event,” I said. “I don’t wish to embarrass you.”

Sam cocked his head. “The ball is on Friday.”

“I don’t think a week is enough time,” Cyrus said.

“A shame,” the King chimed. “But fair. Ladies do like to have an advance for such events, son. Dresses take time to order and to sew and all.”

Sam listened to his father, but then he snuck a wink at me behind his long lashes as they spoke– well, half-argued over the logistics of such. Like a giddy adolescent, I fawned, finding myself nodding politely and racking on my feet.

“I don’t know, Sameer,” the King said. “It could take a week, it could take days. It could–”

“It certainly won’t take a week. I’ve used her before. I had a whole outfit redesigned in an afternoon. I’m certain she’ll make time.”

“Your Highness, His Majesty is correct to be concerned,” I told him.

Sam frowned. “Dad, I can make it happen.”

His father sighed.

“I can,” he insisted. “I will call in a favor. In fact, Cyrus–”

“What? ” I said. “No, Your Highness, I–”

“No, it’s alright. It’s a friend of a friend. She’ll squeeze you in.”

“Your Highness, I couldn’t possibly?—”

“I insist,” he said. “Tell her how I insist, Cyrus. Tell her how easy it will be to—” There was air where his friend had stood before. “Cyrus? …Hello?”

Lord Evergreen was gone. We both searched the vacancy, confused.

“My apologies, my love. I’m not sure where my comrade has run off to,” Sam explained. “That was quite rude. No matter, we’ll catch him soon enough, and I shall scold him appropriately for the slight against you.”

“There’s no need for that,” I said. I glanced at Josie, who blushed for us both.

“Right. Gown. Not to worry.” He snapped his fingers, summoning someone else from the hall, somehow another footman to lean into him. “Obtain the address for my tailor and give it to the Princess’s maid. She’ll, of course, tell her my name and inform the shop that I will personally cover any expense the Princess might incur. Explain that the order must be expedited for Friday evening’s ball.”

“Sir, please,” I begged.

“Now. Would you like a tour then?” Sam asked.

“A tour?” the footman asked. “You have the afternoon with-”

“Push my plans back, would you? Surely I can be flexible to properly greet my wife?”

The title caught my breath.

Wife.

He called me his wife . It was a word I had expected to hear eventually, but not so soon, and I felt a whirl inside my chest at the sound of it.

“As you command, sir,” the footman said. He whispered into the Prince’s ear. Sam nodded curtly back.

“Yes, good,” he said. Then his joy deepened as he turned to me. “Shall we start, my love?”