Chapter 22
It was no secret to myself that I bore a hateful, jealous torch for Miss Swift and her relationship history with my Sword, but everything she created–and I meant everything–was beautiful and insanely detailed.
The woman was such a skilled tailor, that had she not been previously slated to become Mrs. Cyrus Evergreen, the very moment I looked at myself in the mirror, wearing the gown she’d made, I would have made it a point to find her.
I would have offered her jewels and gold just to follow me back to Oreia for all of time to serve as my personal dress-maker.
I would have gone as far as to assign her a house in King’s Land.
I would have praised her every day, every hour, for as long as she lived, but, no matter how gorgeous the construction of the garment was, with its emerald sheen and strict boning on the sides, all I could imagine was her conning Mr. Evergreen into rekindling their love affair the moment we all returned home.
Yet, the dress was brilliant. It had gold piping and near-invisible floral details.
I wanted so badly to hone her creativity for my own, to cage it like lightning in a jar, but I just couldn’t allow her anywhere near my Cyrus.
He hadn’t planned to return with me, either, but…
I scoffed, muttering to myself as I realized the fact. Evergreen would be in Chalke.
“Maybe I should steal her from here?” I whispered.
The maid looked up, eyes attentive. “Your pardon, ma’am?” she asked.
“Oh,” I said. My cheeks flushed. “I was… Sorry, I was thinking of something else.. A horse. Yes. My horse. From the Prince.”
“Ah, yes, Your Royal Highness,” she said. “The staff is talking of your mare. They say her coat is as white as snow. It’s only natural you should take her with you when you leave. Though I’m sure His Royal Highness would allow you to. No thievery required.”
I nodded, casually, running my hands down my sides along the bodice. “Yes. You're right. Of course.”
“The gown is very flattering, ma’am,” she said. “Miss Swift is the best seamstress Chalke has to offer. She is skilled in such a vast knowledge of things. She even dresses some of the men in court. I’ve seen her designs. Very striking. Very handsome.”
“Yes,” I said. I glanced her way, my eyes narrowing a bit. “Miss Swift is very talented. I agree.” A pause. Then, “...Since we’re on the topic of taking things–horses—to Oreia… Do you think Miss Swift would travel? If offered a position…?”
The maid stopped, giving it serious thought. “Travel, Your Royal Highness?”
“Yes. With me. Back to Oreia.”
“Um,” she said. She hesitated. There was something she wasn’t saying. I waited, mentally trying to pry it from her. “No, my lady, I don’t believe she would travel. I’ve heard she’s quite rooted here.” She looked away, busying herself with settling the non-existent ruffling in the dress.
Cyrus. That is what she was rooted in, I thought. Who Miss Swift was staying for. My hands began to tremble. I linked them together quickly, settling the tremor.
“Though I have heard stories of staff accepting positions with other houses. For the right copper, or location, or even Lord or Lady,” she went on, absently.
“It couldn’t hurt to ask. If Miss Swift felt a sense of loyalty to you, or if you paid her well enough, she may consider the offer.
Though, I don’t know the woman well. I’ve only met her once or twice while she accompanied Mr. Evergreen for events His Royal Highness attended, too. ”
“I see,” I said. I stood a little more rigidly. “Loyalty. Yes. And what of Mr. Evergreen? …If I was in need of say, a sword-instructor… or a personal guard… Would he accept an offer?”
“Mr. Evergreen, my lady?” she asked. Her attention went to mine.
She was silent for a moment, then looked at the dress again.
“Mr. Evergreen has not been rooted here since his father passed. Since his engagement ended. At least that’s what they say.
Sometimes he travels… Though, he is extremely close to His Royal Highness, ma’am. ”
“Yes.” I nodded, cautiously. “I know.”
She looked to the corridor. “Would there be anything else, Your Royal Highness?
I shook my head. “No, thank you. You’ve been very helpful. I appreciate your… insight.”
She curtsied, then went to leave, leaving the door ajar.
I swayed a little in front of my reflection, my hands cinched to the skirt, testing how it moved.
It glimmered in the light, which brought a slight smile to my lips, but all I could think of was if the gown would impress a certain swordsman with its delicate stitches.
I exhaled. I wanted to find him, to sneak out of the ominously approaching Masquerade I’d wear it at, and I wanted to show it to him. I wanted him to take it off.
Rudely, Sameer’s voice cut into the fantasy, disrupting my moment of ease. “All I’m asking is you slow down a moment, Cy,” I heard him say. His voice echoed in the hall.
I cued to the nickname, listening.
“Cyrus,” Sam said faster. “Slow down.”
Nonchalantly, I stepped out of my room and into the corridor, only I appeared right in front of the pair as they barreled toward me.
I sidestepped, barely missing a collision with Cyrus as his hand slid along the wall, either as a reminder of where the structure was or for balance, simply based upon his expression–dazed almost–but I wasn’t sure.
“Mr. Evergreen?” I asked. “What a surprise. ...Sam,”
Sam bowed. “Svana,” he said with a nod, acknowledging me. He hopped a little closer, his hand extended. “Cyrus. Please,” he said to his friend. “Hey.”
My brow knit. I swept past the Prince and reached toward Mr. Evergreen, but then his eyes shut and he came to a stop.
“Cyrus?” I asked. “Are you alright?”
He made no movement to confirm he’d even heard me. Sweat glistened on his face.
“Have you–?” I looked between the Prince and him. “Have you been working very hard?” I asked. “He’s exhausted.”
“Excuse me,” Cyrus murmured. He started walking again, purposelessly.
Sameer groaned, rolling his whole head in annoyance. “He’s been moody like this all afternoon. He won’t even listen to me. Everything was fine, then something upset him. He went completely quiet and he’s hardly helped us or said a word since twelve.”
“Since twelve?” I asked. “That’s–” I stared at Mr. Evergreen.
Then I squared my shoulders determinedly.
“Mr. Evergreen, is your mood something a ride might improve?” He shook his head.
“...Are you well, sir?” I moved closer. I went to touch his forehead with the back of my hand but he brushed me off. I paused, hurt.
“I’m fine,” he said, brash.
My heart sank with an unsteady flutter at how he looked at me–past me. Like I wasn’t there.
“Was anything salvageable?” I tried. “With your home, I mean.”
“I need to…” Cyrus trailed off. He exhaled roughly. He swayed. “I need to… I… lie down,” he said.
It wasn’t another word before he continued toward his room. He didn’t look back or say goodbye; he just sauntered away.
Sam said, “The foundation was salvaged.”
I turned, confused. He met with an equal expression.
“It’ll be a month or two of hard work to return it to its proper glory,” he said.
“What?”
“His house, Svana. You asked if anything was salvageable.” He straightened his cuff. “Excuse me.” Then he walked by me, leaving me alone in the hall, bewildered and concerned.
I stared at the ceiling of my bedchamber wide eyed and for too long, until the shadows stretched off of the window panes and clawed toward the bed. Save for an owl somewhere outdoors, it was silent.
Ser Elías read quietly in his chair by the door. He was unaffected, uninfected by my introspective abuse, still happy like the rest of the world that got on without my melancholia, and I laid there, absolutely rotting in my sheets, until he spoke, interrupting my tenor.
“You’re supposed to be asleep, Princess,” he said.
I leaped at the chance. “Can I ask you a question, Ser?”
“Is this question about Mr. Evergreen?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Go to sleep,” he said, turning a page. I didn’t. After several moments of nothing, he sighed heavily and marked his page. “Fine. What is it?”
“…As you know,” I was careful. “The two of us have been… spending time together...”
“Yes,” he said. He leaned forward and rested his elbows to his legs. “And?”
“And I was just hoping to understand why he, or any man, might… I’m sorry, Eli, I don’t know how to ask this question appropriately.”
Elías bristled. “Is he pressuring you?”
“Pressuring?” I sat up. “In what way?”
He shifted.
“Oh!” I cried. “No,” I said softer, longer. “No. That’s not… That’s not what the question is about. …No.”
“Then what is it about, Svana?” he asked.
“Um. Well. It’s just that suddenly he feels cold. And yesterday he was not cold, you see?”
“Cold?” he asked.
“Yes. Cold.”
“Give me an example?” he asked.
I rolled my bottom lip against my teeth as I tried to find the way to word it.
“For example… This afternoon, he and the Prince returned from Mr. Evergreen’s home and I felt as though he was a different man.
Toward me, I mean. He was short and callously so.
He, uh, he wandered past me and went to his chamber without so much as speaking to me…
for long anyway. And um,” I had to pause to avoid crying.
“Well, he didn’t bother saying farewell or good night, or when I might hear from him again.
And I thought maybe he was ill, but when I tried to check he sort of…
dismissed my hand. And that is so very different from how it’s been with him.
And I know Sameer was there. But even he thought something was wrong. ”
“I see,” he said. He sat up. “Have you laid with him?”
I gasped. “Elías!”
“It’s relevant to my answer,” he explained. “I’m not judging you.”
I adjusted my posture, looking at my hands. I shook my head. My voice became soft, embarrassed. “No. We haven’t made love.”
“Alright,” he said, nodding. “Then I don’t have to kill him.”
“What?”
“Nothing; thinking outloud,” he said.
“Is it me?” I asked. “Am I obnoxious? …Am I unworthy of his attention?”
“Absolutely not.” Elías was deadlocked. “Your worth is beyond constructs of value; you will not let anyone tell you less, even boys you think are special. And... As much as I’d sooner like to dissuade you from men who aren’t your betrothed, I am a grown man, and I understand love is…
complex. In this case, it will serve you well to know that men…
” He looked up, finding the words. “Our value often comes from how well we provide. Our professions, for example. Our seemingly shallower attributes to the untrained eye, but.”
“I don’t understand those words,” I said. “Well, I understand the words. But I don’t understand how they apply. Mr. Evergreen has a career. He’s a swordsman. A sword instructor.”
“Yes, he is,” he said. “But he’s also just lost everything that’s gotten him. I imagine that he’s struggling with the reality of starting over again.”
He held onto something else.
“What? What is it?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Just that. The boy doesn’t come from money; he’s not like you. Everything he has to his name here comes with a cost.”
“I know that,” I said. “I know that he isn’t rich or a lord or anything. I just–How do I help him?” I asked. “Do I give him gold?”
“No,” he said.
“But then he could rebuild faster.”
“Yes, but it’s not about rebuilding. It’s not about cost.”
“Then what is it about? Please. I’ll do anything he needs,” I said.
“Svana, relax. If your Sword loves you, this will pass. In the meantime, if he’s feeling uneasy, and you truly love him? Your role is to reassure him. That’s it.”
“How do I do that?” I asked.
“You won’t like it,” he said.
“I don’t care! Tell me,” I said. “Tell me, I will reassure him however I must.”
“You respect his space. You let him process his grief, and only when you’re prompted, you reassure him he is more than the material. More than he could ever give you physically. That all things physical pass and that your affection, your attraction to him exceeds the constructs of the physical.”
“How do I reassure him of that if he won’t speak to me?” I asked. “What if he does not prompt me to speak?”
“If his affection matches yours, he will,” he said. “Give it time.”
“But-”
“When you spoke to him, you were in the corridor with the Prince, correct? The man you’ll be marrying in a month’s time?” he asked.
I nodded.
“The man who also happens to be the man who employs him, yes? Who lives in the Palace he is staying in, and who owns what… endless amounts of clothes and jewels?” he asked. “Who will make you Queen?”
“Those things don’t matter to me,” I said. “And I am Queen regardless of if I marry Sameer or not. That is my birth right.”
“You don’t care for these things because you’ve never had to want for them,” he said.
“For the rest of us, for those of us who were born poor or orphans or less, they matter. They remain a clear indicator of where a man stands in the world of ladies and kings. If I were in a similar position, I’d fear a comparison between myself to the Crown, and I would react to that, for better or for worse. It’s human nature.”
“But,” I huffed. “But I don’t love the Prince,” I said. “I love Mr. Evergreen.”
“Regardless of if you love the Prince, you’re going to marry him,” he said. “Believe me. Mr. Evergreen is well aware of that fact. I’d wager he spends little time thinking of much else.”
“Fine. But that still does not answer the question, Eli. How do I quell his insecurities if he won’t talk to me?” I asked.
“He will.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“I don’t know. I suppose if he takes his time, you’ll do what you always do. Talk at him. Eliminate the choice in the matter. If you are as matched as you believe, he’ll expect it.”
“Well,” I started. “Well, that’s actually– I could actually do that. Nevermind the commentary in there somewhere, Lord Commander.”
He grinned slowly.
“Fine,” I said more confidently. “Then escort me to–”
“No,” he said. He scowled, picking up his book again. “It’s nearly midnight. Go to sleep.”
I groaned, collapsing back into the bed. A moment later, I asked. “Why does it matter if we slept together?”
He turned another page. “Because. If he had taken advantage of you and then ignored you, I would have had to have a nice conversation with him.”
I squinted, processing. “…So if we had been intimate and he was acting this way, then what would that mean?” I asked. “And is that… all intimacy or just sex?”
Elías looked up at me. He looked back down at his book. “Men who change their interests after intimacy are womanizers,” he said. “Rakes.”
My chest tightened.
“Any intimacy.” Another page. “Good night, Princess,” he said.