Chapter 13
“Good morning, handsome!” I called, stepping into the stables, rested and raring to go, but someone unexpectedly replied.
“Oh! I was hoping to surprise you,” Sameer said. He donned a happy look. “But it seems you’ve caught me. Good morning, beautiful.”
Cyrus was behind him. He fussed with one of the saddles. We shared a look; he tried not to laugh at me. He said, “Sam here was insistent we go into town today. Together. Apparently.”
“Together?” I asked. “Why?”
“Why?” Sam said. “Why not?”
I checked the barn. “Wait. Where is Ser Willoughby?”
He nudged my arm. “I dismissed him.”
“You dismissed him?” I asked. “…Why? Who will talk to Jocelyn?”
“Jocelyn?”
“My maid,” I reminded him.
“Ah, I dismissed her, too,” Sam said. “And why? What do you mean why? Again, why not? I think between Cy and I, you should be well seen to, love. Besides, we’ll have a nicer conversation if we can speak freely. At times I find myself uptight around servants.”
“You dismissed them,” I said, dubious. “What joy.”
He beamed. “I’m glad you approve and I’m glad you’re so happy this morning. I love to see you smile.”
I was frowning.
Cyrus set the seat he’d been working on back on its hook. He picked up his sword from where it leaned and he slid it into his belt.
“Are you not riding with us?” I asked.
“Riding?” Sam laughed. “No, good God, Svana, of course not.”
“He’s not? But? But Mr. Evergreen is my instructor,” I said. “I need him. To… to instruct.”
Sam parted his lips.
I said, “You can’t be serious! We had plans, he and I.”
Evergreen patted the air. “It’s alright. Plans change,” he said.
Sam replied. “Dear, we spoke of this. I feel as though you seem confused.”
“I am confused,” I said. “We talked? You and I?”
“Yes,” he said. “Last night while we danced. You don’t remember?”
Cyrus looked at me.
I disagreed. “We did not talk about frolicking to town.”
Sam hummed. “Uh, yes we did.”
“No, we did not.”
“We talked about being seen together?”
“Seen?” I asked. “I suppose I vaguely recall your mention of being seen with me, but I do believe after I said go apologize to your mistre—”
“Ahh—Shhh. Yes. Yes, Svana,” Sam said. He tried to nod to his friend undetected. “Such a fine memory you have.”
“Why are you shushing me? I know he knows about her!” I said. “We talk about you, you know?”
“You talk about me?” Sam looked to his friend.
“Leave me out of it, please?” Cyrus muttered.
“And me,” I added.
Sam tensed. “Regardless of if you remember our conversation or not, I’m here now so we might as well proceed,” he said. He dramatically gestured around. “And what a great idea it was, wasn’t it? We should be more visible as a pair. What do you say about me?” he asked his friend.
Cyrus shook his head.
“Oh, yes,” I moaned. “Phenomenal plan, Prince. Simply brilliant. And please, by all means, upheave my day to exact your ideas into fruition! Dismiss my Sword to what exactly is it you want again?” I asked.
Sam paused. “I want to take your Sword…sman—my swordsman, into town with us. I’m not dismissing anyone. Well, besides the other two. I think now I’m confused.”
Mr. Evergreen quietly knifed his hand between us, and stepped by. He handed Sameer a satchel off the ground, which the Prince put on.
He said, “Sameer asked us to accompany him into town today, Svana.”
“See?” Sam said, happier. “I’m not chasing off your Sword. I—That feels strange to say. You Oreians and your Blades. You really interchange that stuff, don’t you?”
I looked at him, hesitant. Cyrus made a joke.
“You should hear it when she talks to knights.”
“Why are we going to town?” I asked.
Sameer put on a practice look. “I am of the mind that some of the discontent amongst our lands may have been encouraged by the absence of our… romantic displays to say. So. You are to come to town with Cyrus and I, and thus allow the Empire to see our faces together, and then hopefully, those witnesses might learn and prosper from such a thing to apply in their own marriages, or such by our example.”
“...What?” I asked.
“Our example,” he said.
“Our example of visiting town?”
“No, ha!” He grinned. “That’s a good one. She is funny, Cyrus. I suppose I was wrong. No, of our love, Svana.”
“...Our what?”
Sam turned to his friend. “The carriage is ready, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Aye. Go. I’ll be on shortly.”
“Good.” Sam offered me his hand, which I ignored until he retracted it. “This way.”
“Your Highness, I told you that I had plans for the day last night,” I said.
“Yes. You mentioned them.”
“I believe I also disclosed plans for the days after, as well,” I added.
“Sure, but now you have these plans with me.”
“You—”
Evergreen cleared his throat. “Your Highness, it’s quite alright. A ride into town will be fun.” His friend thanked him for it, quietly, and he went on, “It’ll give me a chance to shop the blades.”
“People or actual blades?” Sam asked. He coughed then waved it off.
“Daggers,” Cyrus said.
Sam nodded. “Brilliant. See, Savy? Fun.”
The carriage ride wasn’t fun. It was whatever the officially determined opposite of fun was, and watching the men I rode with share their flawless, comedic flow of banter over me the entire way, felt like a punishment rather than delight.
The road was rough and I rocked back and forth between the two of them, as Sam had suggested I sit there to see both sides of the journey, so that he could point things out about the way. He didn’t.
“All I’m saying is, he had no business in that pub!” Cyrus said, reminiscing through a story with his friend.
I pressed myself into the leather seat, to avoid interfering.
Sam, equally into the cantor, came back with, “Oy, but there he was, the very next day!” He moved, forcing me to lean forward, a new way to allow them to speak.
Cyrus made a snide remark next, then Sam, then Mr. Evergreen again, and soon they became what seemed to be a singular personality.
It was unsettling. Whenever I asked a question, like what sort of pub was a ‘gentleman’s pub,’ or why they had been there so late into the evening, I received no direct answer.
Then they appeared to adopt a code, using words that didn’t fit where they were placed and everything was incoherent really.
By the time we arrived to the square and left our carriage, I felt petty and had designed myself to stalk around the market as unhappily as possible, stomp my feet whenever possible, and complain about everything, but as soon as we’d made it past the actual gate, a group of children flanked me.
My hands came up, to deflect the ball they’d kicked; my distinguished flinch horrified at least one of them.
“We’re sorry!” he called, clambering to collect it.
“I think you—” I halted, adhering to the child’s sweet remorseful face. “Oh, that’s…That’s alright,” I said.
Reluctantly I relaxed, and, unable to resist the charm of such a tiny figure, I knelt, low enough to match the boy’s height. I collected and held the ball out for him.
“Are you the Princess?” he asked with wonder. His eyes moved between Sameer and back. “That’s the Prince,” he said, more certain.
“Yes, dear,” I said. “I am she, that is he. What’s your name?”
“And you have your knight?” he cried. “Oh, shit!”
“W-What?” I asked. “Heavens. How old are you?”
“Oi! You’ve hit the Princess, you fools!” he yelled. The announcement drew several other young faces from different points of the crowd. They followed suit when he ran away, screaming, “You’ve struck the Princess! Run before they punish us!”
The boy left with another loud curse and suddenly I realized Elías’s distaste for such words was fair. I looked at Sam, then Mr. Evergreen.
“I think he thought you were my Blade,” I said, confused.
Evergreen shrugged. “Been called worse.” He pulled the ball from my hands and then dropped-kicked it after where the boys had gone.
I scrunched my face. “What just happened?”
Sam stepped by; he picked a trinket up off one of the stalls. “Boys being boys, no matter. Are you sweet on children then?” he asked.
“Like do I want them?” I asked. “Or do you mean do I like them?”
“It isn’t ‘yes’ for both?” he asked.
I paused, weaving my hands together and quickly looking to see if Evergreen had caught my blunder. He browsed the stock of the nearest table but I suspected that he was still listening.
“No, it’s yes of course,” I said. “I mean, we must have children, mustn’t we?”
Sam rolled his wrist. “You’ll make an excellent mother.”
“What evidence do you have of that?” I asked.
Evergreen moved on to the next fares. He peered back only once, either to see where we had fallen into line behind him as he shopped, or to judge my answers. My throat felt tight.
Sam said, “I just have a feeling. How many do you intend?”
“I’ve not given it much thought,” I said.
“I’ve always wanted five,” Sam replied.
“Five?”
Cyrus turned around. He handed the Prince an item from one of the shelves. It was a dancing wooden mare.
“Remind you of anyone?” he asked.
Sameer snickered and put it down.
Mr. Evergreen gave me the smallest of smiles. He said, “Does the Capitol still host pony rides in Town Centre?”
I nodded. “Is that tiny horse me?” I asked.
He smirked. “No.”
“Liar,” I said. “Then who did it remind you of?”
He dismissed it, pouting and unpouting his perfect mouth. “I can’t recall.”
I frowned, then I realized what he’d said. “Wait. Pony rides?” I asked.
“Yeah, with the little chariot seat?” he asked.
“You’ve been recently?”
“No, that’s why I’m asking.”
I stalled, conjuring an explanation and coming up short. “Mr. Evergreen, the chariot is a recent introduction.”
“Is it?” He shook his head. “No, it can’t be. I distinctly remember pony rides when I was a child.”
“Here?” Sam asked. “I’ve never seen a pony ride in town.”
“Oreia,” Cyrus said. “The Apple Faire.”