Chapter 4
Tails and I appeared next to Cyrus and his horse.
“I did not know he’d be joining us,” I whispered. “I will have a few words for Ser Elías when we return.”
He inclined his head toward mine, barely nodding to the third wheel. “Not the time,” he said.
“But I-”
“I believe you,” he replied, adding, “But perhaps this is a blessing.”
“A blessing?” I tried to dissect the word as it left my still-buzzing lips.
Cyrus shushed me just loud enough to hear.
“Explain,” I said.
Willoughby gestured to a tree. “Just look at that. Brilliant. I must say this is nice. I never get to ride much these days,” he said.
“Not since my oath. Not that I’m complaining.
I meant only that this reminds me of home.
I grew up on basically a ranch, Svana will tell you.
This? This is certainly a welcome change of pace from wandering the stone halls of her castle or the sands before it.
These hills are gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. You get to ride these every day?”
“I do,” Evergreen said.
“I wish I could say the same.”
“You went into the wrong profession, friend,” he replied. “If you want, I could speak to Henry for you?”
My cousin laughed. “If only the oath weren’t for life, then, yeah?”
“It’s not like he had a choice,” I interjected.
They both looked back at me.
“His career,” I said. “Why, he’s a knight.”
Willoughby shrugged. “What she means to say is that I’m one of three and the youngest, sir.”
“I see. All sons?” Cyrus asked.
“All sons,” he said. “I am where I am because I must.”
“Spoken like a soldier,” Evergreen said. He pointed something out. “This sect of Chalke is often more vibrant than the southern states.”
“I agree with you,” the other said.
“Then my assumption is correct, you’ve been? Where were you stationed for the War?” he asked. “Syrt?”
“Crild,” Willoughby said.
“Crild?” my Sword replied. He grinned. “Crild is a desert. I thought your father would have friends.”
“My father did have friends, that was my crime,” Willoughby replied. “A viscount.”
“They did not offer you a place closer to home?” Cyrus asked.
“They did.”
“You denied it?” he asked.
“I did,” he said.
“Stop. You chose Crild? Or it was chosen for you?” I asked, surprised.
“I chose it, Your Highness,” he said.
“I didn’t know that,” I returned. “All I was told was that you were very far away.”
“I wanted to travel, I suppose,” he explained. “See the world, even the darkest corners of it, like Crild.”
“Is it really so bad?” I asked.
“Yes,” they said together.
“I see.”
“Wanderlust?” Cyrus asked. “Or intention?”
Wiloughby turned. “I, like those assigned to my faction, possessed a willingness to endure awful things for His Majesty,” he said.
Something cued the swordsman’s interest. “And inflict awfulness onto others?” Evergreen asked.
My cousin smirked. “Something like that,” he said. They shared a silent revelation.
“What is it?” I asked.
Evergreen shifted, waving me off. “Nothing, Your Highness. War talk is all. Your cousin is very interesting. I see why the Lord Commander sent him in his place.”
Willoughby asked, “Where were you stationed, Mr. Evergreen?”
“I mostly remained in the Capitol, Ser.”
“ísfjall?” he asked.
“No. Rothingham, I meant. I trained Chalke knights,” he explained. “But you knew that.”
“I might have heard it. Who’s to say?” Willoughby stated. “In other words, though, you weren’t allowed to deploy.”
Cyrus cocked his head.
Willoughby said, “I’ve heard many men faced a similar wall. Did you want to come home? Were you denied refuge?”
“If it’s the same to you, Ser Willoughby, I’d rather we not discuss the War much further in the presence of a lady,” Cyrus said.
“I’m sure the Princess is well-aware of such topics, Mr. Evergreen,” he said. “She is the King’s heir, after all.”
“What discussions?” I asked.
Evergreen exhaled. “I did not try to depart Chalke,” he said. “However, yes. There was suspicion concerning my birth. The rumors you’ve heard about deployment and refuge are true. That’s all I can say on that.”
“Was it very strange?” Willoughby went on. “Training the enemy of your King?”
“Daniel,” I said.
He waved me off.
“Don’t be rude,” I said.
“None of us are fighting now, are we?” Cyrus asked.
His mouth closed into a line. Just as fast, it birthed a smile crafted for me.
“And with Her Highness’s marriage, we’ll all be under one crown soon.
War will be long, long, into the horizon behind us, and it won’t matter who did what for whose king. ”
“Yes. Gone forever, we hope,” Willoughby said.
I flashed him a look. “And we are happy for this fact,” I said. “Happy to bid farewell to any animosity between Chalke and Oreia, no matter with whom or what. Honestly, Daniel. You should be ashamed. Mr. Evergreen has asked to change the subject. You should oblige.”
“Rude? Me?” he asked. “I was simply expressing a curiosity I possessed. We all gained special talents in the War. I just wondered what Mr. Evergreen’s was?”
“It’s improper to pry,” I said.
“You don’t care to know who you spend your time with?” he asked. “He said he trained their knights. How many of theirs killed ours?”
“I am no mastermind, Ser Willoughby,” Evergreen began. “I’m just a stable hand who, like everyone else, was forced into the War. I’m nothing.”
“A stable hand impressively gifted with a sword, passing his ability on to others. You won the Games here last year, did you not?” he asked.
I checked my swordsman for confirmation.
“I did,” he said. “And His Highness competes. I train him for the event as well. Our Games are not like yours. They are open to more than knights.”
“Ours,” Willoughby said. “You’re Oreian.”
“Would you like to join our routine? I’m happy to train you as well.”
“Ser,” I said. “Mr. Evergreen.”
Willoughby snapped his fingers. “That's a good one. I love the confidence, but I could easily take you in a match, and in my sleep.”
“Sure,” Cyrus said.
Willoughby narrowed his eyes. “You don’t agree?”
“I don’t think it matters to you if I do or not,” he said. “But I know my capabilities, Ser. You forget, Sameer has entrusted me to protect Her Highness, and all alone. Where did you say Ser Elías was? Didn’t you both travel with her here?”
“Perhaps I’ll come show you my capabilities in Autumn, sir?” he asked. “Do you use daggers in the event? Or just long swords?” His voice was light, but there was a hidden chord of something snared beneath. “I really enjoy daggers.”
“There’s a dagger toss,” Cyrus said. “I won that, too.”
“Stop it!” I blurted.
“Me?” Willoughby asked.
I looked at him. “Yes, you! Who else? Stop… Stop threatening Mr. Evergreen. Are you? Are you threatening him?”
My knight cocked his head with an obscure courage. “Am I?” he asked.
“We’re just talking,” Mr. Evergreen said.
I glanced at him. “Well then, stop talking,” I said. “Immediately.”
“No,” Willoughby said.
“No?” I asked.
“No. We’re having quite the fun chat.”
“Fun?” I asked.
“Tell you what,” Cyrus started with a hearty vigor. “Do it. Join the Games. I could use a new opponent, I think, but you should know, I am very fast. If you can manage just to keep your feet for our spar, I’ll treat you to an ale at the after-party. What say you?”
“You’ll treat me to two when I obliterate your score,” Willoughby said.
“I like him,” Evergreen said. “Speaking of fast, Willough. Aren’t you recruits forced to duel the Lord Commander before you’re even considered for the Kingsguard?” He grinned at the thought. “How badly did he beat you, Ser?”
“Senseless, really. Though I’m surprised you know about that. We’re sworn to silence,” he said. “Where did you hear it from?”
“I don’t recall.”
“Right,” he said. “You know it won’t be hard for me to figure out who you’re friends with.”
“Ser,” I said.
“It might,” Cyrus replied. “I’m not friends with any of you Blades.”
“How is this not an argument?” I asked. “I’m uncomfortable.”
Willoughby rolled his eyes, but he changed the subject, and I watched as they wandered back into a smooth conversation, exploiting every secret of famous Swordsmen and then moving on to little things like where merchant carts would lie in town the week of the tourney, and what each might be selling.
Cyrus seemed to enjoy my knight, and I was offended that neither barely spoke to me until we arrived at the cherry blossoms twenty minutes later.
“We’ll take a left up here,” he explained.
I swayed in my seat anxiously, replaying his original complaint. “You know, we don’t have to see the chapel today,” I said, overly cautious of his not wanting to see it. “I’m sure my cousin might care more for what the Capitol has to offer him than silly altars for silly weddings, right?”
“On the contrary,” he said. “I am excited to see where you’ll take your vows.”
“You are?” I asked.
“Aye,” he said. “Just yesterday, His Royal Highness explained the site’s romantic blessing. I’ve been strangely eager to see it for myself.”
“Ah, yes, the blessing,” Cyrus muttered.
“What blessing?” I asked. “You mean that they all marry there?”
Willoughby shrugged. “Aye, but the reason they do. As I understand it, his parents, his grandparents, and theirs all wed in the very place that you’ll stand. There’s beauty in that, I think.”
“Sure,” I said. “Somewhere. Though I must admit, I was unaware you were such a sentimentalist, Ser Willoughby.”
“Guilty. Believe me, ma’am, if anyone is a seer of signs in this world, it’s me. Especially with love.” He smiled. “Though I have it on good authority, the blessing is quite real. Miss Jocelyn has heard it from the staff herself.”
Cyrus interrupted. “Yes, yes. Well. It’s just over there.”