Chapter 9
Sometime in the early hours of the night, a thought occurred to me so abruptly that it drew me from my sleep.
I lay in the bed, alone with the idea. I replayed every moment and every word from Mr. Evergreen’s lips from our time at the swimming hole.
At no point had he kissed me. Therefore, I realized, he didn’t want to kiss me.
The deeper I reviewed his actions, the further convinced I was that he was purposely distant.
There had been no mention of our connection, and I felt worried about what that meant.
In all the books I read, the men confessed their desires, almost always after their first hand touch, and they did so so openly.
There was never any doubt as a reader of where things were headed, but Mr. Evergreen had gone further than touching hands. We had kissed!
My insecurity rooted further, blossoming into a loud concern, weeding into my every thought, and by the time our group had reconvened for the morning, my mind was a wreck of busy, far-fetched explanations, from the chance that Mr. Evergreen had met someone else, to the fear that he had returned to Miss Swift’s sweet embrace.
The day began, and, as a whole, it was not awful by any means, but I was horrifically upset.
I was upset that my swordsman had not found himself alone within my company, not even once, and I was upset that it hardly felt like the mark of a man who was interested in a lady.
I tried not to dwell, but it made things worse, to the point that I carefully watched Ser Willoughby for further ‘confrontations’ with my Blade to determine if that was the obstruction, but they got on very well.
By the wrap of our day’s adventure, I felt physically sick, and by night, I barely slept.
On Wednesday, I could not surmount the wave of worry, and waiting another day before assaulting Evergreen with all the questions fermenting inside my soul felt equally impossible.
Once I had quelled the worst of the nerves, I strolled near the yard where several men were gathered until I saw the Prince.
As I stepped toward him, he drew a sword…
a wooden sword. Evergreen was just beyond the fence in front of him, and he drew its twin in sync.
It took far too long to process that they had begun a spar.
On my first pass through their area, neither man saw me, so I walked it again.
Then the other way. Then back. Then, I wandered significantly closer to their exact location.
I was sure that Mr. Evergreen saw me when he looked over his shoulder twice, but the Prince noticed next, almost stopping.
They didn’t step apart, though, to greet me or acknowledge my arrival, and I had no choice but to loiter very, very closely and clear my throat loudly when they failed to react.
Sameer was the one to break concentration. He shared a confused look with his friend. Then said, “Princess?” while out of breath. He dug the tip of his weapon into the ground to catch it. “Good morning. Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” I said, neatly smoothing my blouse. I glanced at Mr. Evergreen. He said nothing. “What gave you the impression that it wasn’t?” I asked.
He paused. “You’ve just made an awful sound.”
“I did?” I asked.
He nodded. “So if you’re fine and not choking, to what do I owe the pleasure of this interruption?” He wiped his arm across his forehead. “Sorry. To what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival, love?” Sam asked.
I felt guilty. Guilty for intruding upon their practice that was apparently so strenuous, and guilty for humiliating myself for so little attention from his instructor. Somehow, I had made myself feel worse.
Cyrus was silent until he wasn’t. He mumbled something about a drink, then turned around and walked away.
“You don’t have to flee on my account,” I called after him.
My comment was enough to stop his exit, though he wasn’t exactly animated about it. Mr. Evergreen turned around and then moved next to Sameer. He cracked his neck, and I died inside as I became certain of my fear: he hated me.
“How-How is…this proceeding? Your training?” I asked.
Sam dropped his gaze to reinspect me, examining every part, like I was a puzzle he wished to conquer. “You came out here to see me?” he asked.
“No. Yes. But I… It’s going well, then?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes, I have the best instructor.” He gestured to his friend. “...I like that color on you. Is it new? I don’t recall your dresses being so vibrant.”
“It’s new,” I said. “Thank you. I had a good advisor, so I made some changes accordingly.”
Evergreen didn’t react.
“Did I buy that?” Sam asked.
I laid a hand on the bodice. “You did. Good morning, Mr. Evergreen,” I said. “Do you approve of this dress?”
He only nodded.
“Wonderful,” Sam said. He grinned. “It’s lovely, Svana. The pattern really brings out your eyes, as well. I never noticed their color before. They’re quite blue.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “Though I cannot take credit for the pattern. It’s Miss Swift’s design.”
My beautiful Blade scowled, but his frown fell from his face the moment he seemed to become aware of my longing gaze.
He said. “Right,” too quickly. Then added, “Let’s call it a day,” to Sam. “I’m suddenly very tired.”
“What?” the Prince asked. “We’ve not been out here but an hour?”
“Aye,” Evergreen said. He shrugged, then used the length of his sword to point. “But your princess misses you. Take her on a walk; spend time with her. We’ll meet again next week.”
Sameer and I shared a panicked, “I don’t want-” before we realized the duet.
He stopped, acknowledging the offense with a nod. He said, “Apologies. Please. You first.”
“I…” I didn’t know what to say. “I did not wish to interrupt your practice,” I pleaded. “I just thought...” I searched for an excuse. “I thought I could come see you train. Is the yard off limits?”
The idea was not well received, prompting a different kind of disdain from both men.
Finally, Sam begged, “Why would you want to see me train?”
“Because,” I said.
Cyrus and I were locked in a terrible-looking contest that neither of us would commit to winning.
“Because I do miss you,” I said for Mr. Evergreen, focusing my attention on only him. “Selfishly. I wish to steal you from this practice.”
He severed our link and peered into the horizon.
“I see,” Sam said. He stewed in the confession for a second, blinked a few times, checked in with his partner, and then exhaled. “I, uh, I suppose we haven’t seen each other for some time?”
“Not really,” I replied. “But I—”
“I’ve come to expect you... well, frankly, not here.” He huffed defeatedly, “But you’re right,” and picked up his sword. “Sorry, friend. I don’t think Miss Svana intends to depart from here without me,” he said.
“That’s not exactly true,” I said. “I can be swayed. Perhaps, Mr. Evergreen—”
“Swayed, huh?” he asked. He slowly bobbed his head. “You came here for a different reason then? Than stealing me?”
“I, uh—”
“Cy, I do think the Princess wants to watch us train,” he said.
“Wait, what?” I asked.
Sameer laughed. He moved to strike at his friend, but the surprise was actually caught and partially parried. Mr. Evergreen took a broad step back from Sam and frowned.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Sam said, “The lady wants a show, you goat.”
“Absolutely not,” he said.
“I don’t, reall—”
But Sam took another swing, missing, and Evergreen used a hand to push him off kilter.
At his betrayal, a wild competitive blaze sailed between the two of them, and as their sticks crashed and slid together and off of each other, they spun and spun, almost twirling.
They carried deeper into the pasture and began to draw a crowd of workers.
Each man moved harder, harsher, and trickier into their combat; each was desperate to best the other, and I stood there like an idiot in an idiot’s fog, insanely drawn to how violent things had become. Insanely attracted to it all.
I felt my chest, immediately reminded of Swords & Horses—of a time where wonder was enough to wake you before the morning sun.
When court and class meant nothing, and when two people could madly assault each other without fear of consequence.
There were no crowns, no duty, no rules between them, just the clatter of sticks striking other sticks and the sound of a very childish play.
“What are they doing?” someone asked, breaking my naughty fantasy.
“Elías!” I breathed.
He was next to me with a very reasonable question, but at an unreasonable moment. I sucked in an incredible amount of air and nearly tripped in place.
“Steady on,” he said, catching my arm. “Are you well? What’s gotten into you?”
“I just—Mmh.” A guttural noise came out of my throat, and “Um. Nothing. Nothing’s gotten- Elías? Elías.” I stood taller. “Hi. Good morning, Ser. Lord Commander.”
“Hi.” He folded his arms across his chest and nodded to the field. “A flashy fellow, isn’t he?” he asked.
I tsked lazily. “I’d say it came with the title,” I said, trying to put away the discomfort of watching Mr. Evergreen chase around my fiancé, who had encouraged my knight’s appearance, but I was happy for his arrival. “It feels very Chalke.” I tried.
“...I was speaking of your Blade,” he explained. He sighed but didn’t add to it.
I paused a moment to touch his arm, ignoring the repetitive knocks and clanks around us. “Ser,” I said. “I’m so sorry. You must allow me to-”
“I’ve had difficulty crossing paths with you this week,” Elías said. I sank as he talked over me, a trait that was new and unexpected from my friend. “A few times, I came to your chamber. It seems you start your days earlier than you did before. Are you avoiding me?” he asked.
“No!” I hurried. “No, I’m not. I would never avoid you. I’ve been, um, I’ve been riding a lot more. With Josie, still. And Ser Willoughby. The day starts sooner with others involved.”
“And Mr. Evergreen is alright with that?” he asked. “He does come a ways, doesn’t he?”