Chapter 24 #2
My brows shot up. “I knew it!”
“Yes, yes. Svana Eisson, so very clever. They’ll write songs of how sharp you were, noticing the obvious.” He canted his head.
“Alright, then,” I muttered.
He yawned. “With your permission, I should like to say that you blame yourself more than any lord or lady I’ve ever known, and as the third son of a viscount who’s only worth should’ve been determined by whatever marriage he secured, I can assure you, I’ve known a fair share of lords and ladies who blamed themselves. Trust me.”
“Are you bullying me?” I asked. “Don’t discredit what’s blatantly there. Why shouldn’t I blame myself? These bandits are burning horses. I’m an Eisson. I’m a horse. My Cyrus is a horse handler; the metaphor is not lost upon me.”
“Oh, he’s your Cyrus now, is he?” He nudged me with his knee.
I froze. “I-I meant–”
“Relax,” he said softer. “It’s not as though I don’t know what you get up to when I’m supposed to be distracted by Miss Jocelyn. Neither of you are very careful with that bright dazzle in your eyes each time you engage, and Miss Jocelyn is not exactly sly in her attempts to lure me away.”
“Well, I, I mean… I… She wasn’t…”
“Yes, she was,” he said. “And it’s alright. I let her.” He paused. “He loves you,” he said. “You know that, right?”
My expression fell. “I know. ….Poor bastard.”
“You don’t return the sentiment?” He looked surprised.
“No, I… I do,” I said. “It’s…not that. It’s not that at all. That’s the trouble. It’s... Do you believe in soulmates?” I asked, huffing. Before he could answer, I added to it. “Because I do, and I also believe–No, I know, that I’ve already found mine.”
“There’s another man?” He sat up. “Who?”
“Another– No. Not exactly,” I said, scandalized. I hooked my fingers nervously. “Daniel…What I’m about to tell you, you can never, never ever utter again, so help me God. Do you understand?”
“Svana,” he said. “On with it.”
“No, you must promise me your fealty. Right now. I shall not speak until you do.”
“Fine, I promise it.”
“Say it! Say the words, I know how you knights need words.”
He stared at me, offended. His jaw worked a little harder. “I swear my fealty, Svana. What is it?”
“...There was a boy,” I started to explain.
My breath caught slightly. “When I was a child, Daniel. The ostler’s boy.
And I…” My face brightened at the memory.
I could almost hear his voice calling after me as we ran around the forest. “I loved him,” I whispered before finding my voice again.
“Every second of every day, since I can remember. Since the very first morning I stumbled upon him and knew my life would never be the same. He was playing with this stick, jabbing it at things, ha. And he was imagining they were dragons, and soldiers, and, I don’t know, all the wild boars of King’s Land.
And… and I don’t know what happened, but suddenly I’d never seen something so beautiful before and all the world was alive with this intense warmth about it.
I can still feel the way the sunlight felt upon my cheeks the very first time he spoke to me. He was so mean, but I didn’t care.”
Cyrus made a noise and I whispered an apology to his form.
Ser Willoughby shook his head. “Go on,” he said. “He doesn’t mind your story. That noise is just the fever. I’ve seen a hundred fevers like his. It’ll break soon.”
I looked between the two of them, then nodded as I went on, albeit a little softer.
“…Well, he-” I stuttered. “He got hurt, Ser. Because of me. Because I am haunted by the Crown and the consequences of such a weight. I’m not allowed to love anyone; I knew that, even as a child, and I know it now.
That’s why I’m so petrified that I have ruined Mr. Evergreen’s life for all of–”
“Swan,” Cyrus moaned.
I stopped, shifting my attention to the pet name. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”
Willoughby put his hand on my shoulder. “Let me take over,” he said. “You go rest.”
“I don’t want to,” I said. I wiped a tear that had snuck out under my eye. “I tried that. I couldn't sleep in my room. I had to be in here.”
“He’ll be alright,” he said.
“The rest of the story is, I kissed the boy and we were caught. Miss Hellveig had the smith hold him down and they branded him. I never saw him after that.”
“Wait. They branded him?” he asked. “With an iron?”
“Yes, the King’s iron,” I said. “The horse.”
“The King’s–” His mouth was open. “Your father allowed that?”
“Yes. He’s not a kind man,” I said. “You know that.”
“I do but…” Willoughby half-scoffed, making a strangled noise. “Because of a kiss?”
Cyrus stirred.“Swan, my Swan.”
“Why is he saying ‘swan’?” Willoughby tasked. “Is he dreaming about birds?”
I sat taller, pretending like it didn’t matter. “It’s nonsense. He just rambles.”
“No, nonsense is ‘blah blah, blee blah,’ that was a word. He said swan. More than once.”
“Stop, Daniel,” I warned. I pursed my lips.
But then Cyrus said, “Sv…an…a.” And we both looked.
“That was clearly your name,” he stated. “That was ‘Svana.’”
“Was it?” I asked. “I didn’t hear that. It sounded more like-”
“Come to think of it, Svana is pretty close to swan? Is he–”
“Where am I?” Cyrus asked. He rocked his neck wildly, still fighting the fever.
I was on my knees, at the side of the bed, pulling his hand against my chest, lace through mine. I shook him with the free one, panicked.
“Cyrus, stop,” I said. “Don’t say that.”
“Don’t say that?” Ser Willoughby knelt beside us. “Cyrus?” he said to him. “Cyrus, can you hear me, mate? You’re in the Palace. It’s Daniel. Svana’s here.”
“Where….Where’s Sah…” Evergreen’s voice faltered. “Sa…Vanah.”
I shut my eyes, anxiously. “Don’t say that,” I said. “Please.”
Willoughby scowled, then pushed me toward the bed. “Don’t discourage him. Why would you discourage that? Talk to him, you idiot!”
“What?” I asked. “But he– What if someone hears him?”
He made a face and gestured obnoxiously to the empty room. “Talk to your Cyrus, Svana.”
“W-What do I even say?” I asked. “What do I–?”
“Svana,” my Sword said again, crystal clear.
“Cyrus?” I asked. I inched closer.
“I…” He said the single word then stopped. There were several seconds between that and, “I, I… I will be your brave… bravest knight.”
“Damn,” Willoughby cursed. “Damn. I’m sorry, Princess. I thought that would be more profound. Perhaps he is just mumbling.”
But my heart had come to a stop. I couldn’t breathe. Then I did, all at once. Shaky. Needy. Scared.
“What did you say?” I asked him, drawing even closer.
“I said I thought it’d be more profound,” Willoughby said.
“Not you! Him. God, Willoughby. Honestly.”
He shrugged. “He said, he said he’d be a knight,” Willoughby explained. “He’s probably confused with me here next to him. I’m sorry. I really thought the swan was going to mean something.”
“No,” I said. “He–He didn’t. He couldn’t have. He–”
“Brave,” Cyrus exhaled. “Bravest knight.” Then he left me for some other dream, deep in sleep. His grip loosened in mine.
“I think you should get some rest,” my cousin said. “Why don’t you go on then? I’ll–”
“Daniel,” I cut him off sharply. “I…I need you to do something very strange for me and without asking me why. Can you do that? Can you follow orders?”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” he said.
“That’s a good instinct. Now. Lift Mr. Evergreen up. Please.”
“What?”
“Come. It’s nearly morning,” I said. “You need to do it and do it now. Before the staff arrives. They’ll be in soon.”
His expression changed. “Why?”
“Willoughby!” I yelled at him, snapping my fingers. “Just lift him forward; I need to see his back.”
“His back?” he asked. “You want me to undress him for you?”
“I want you to bring him forward,” I said, shoveling the motion with my hands. “I will pull up his shirt long enough to see if there’s a mark on it!”
Willoughby was confused and hesitant.
“Now!” I ordered him. “Please.”
He nodded. Then he did as I asked, manipulating the swordsman forward. I peeled back his shirt. And there it was. Deep-in-color and raised. It was a perfect replica despite wear and age.
The Eisson Crest.