Chapter 18 Cassiel
Iknow I ought to enjoy Wren’s days off. I ought to, at very least, enjoy a break from her grueling training regimen…
But I find that I do not.
Loathe as I am to admit it, things are boring without her. No matter how much she frustrates me, pushes me, teases me and taunts me… she does keep things lively.
Even if she takes too long in the bathroom and keeps using my best soap. Even if she somehow smells both better and worse without it.
Stop thinking about the way she smells.
I tap my fingers against the table, clamping down on a sigh. She also never frets or coddles, which is refreshing even if it also means I frequently end up bruised or banged or slightly disoriented in her so-called ‘care’.
I wish I had a word for what Wren is to me at present.
I like words. I pride myself in knowing most of them in Erelian, our country’s common tongue.
I know plenty in Solmyrian and a fair bit of Xadenese and Florwellian, too.
There is, as far as I’m aware, no word for ‘person who doesn’t want you dead and will ensure you stay alive but isn’t too concerned about a bit of light maiming…
despite whatever is in her job description. ’
There is no word that quite explains what Wren is. More than guard. Not exactly a friend.
“You seem restless today, Your Highness,” says Dain. I don’t always get Dain on Wren’s days off, but he’s probably my favourite. We used to fight together before… before.
So much happened before.
But Dain’s right. I am restless. Sitting in my room all day with my thoughts alone for company sounds like an appalling use of my time.
“Hollowbrook,” I say, “how would you feel about sparring with me?”
He pauses momentarily. He’s probably trying to figure a way out of it, a polite way to decline. Saints, I wish I could see his face. I hate not knowing what people are thinking—
“That depends,” he says. “Will I be dismissed if I accidentally wallop you?”
I smile. “Thornvale does it on purpose and I keep her around.”
“Not for her sparkling personality, then?”
“Thornvale’s personality doesn’t sparkle,” I insist. “Thornvale’s personality has the appearance and consistency of sludge.”
“I would have gone with fire, myself.”
“Don’t compliment Thornvale, Hollowbrook. It makes me like you less.”
I fumble for my cane. It’s propped up beside my bed. I thought it fell over in the night, but obviously someone saw fit to put it back.
No. Not someone. It was probably Wren.
I feel only slightly guilty for comparing her to sludge.
We head down to the training room together. Dain keeps a safe distance behind me, not hovering. I’ve memorised the way by now. I could count the steps if I needed to.
I pause outside the door. Someone’s already in there. That wouldn’t usually make me pause, only I recognise the voices.
It’s Wren and Runara.
I frown, holding up my hand to stop Dain from bursting in. “It’s her day off,” I murmur. “What’s she doing here?”
“I believe she agreed to give the princess a private lesson.”
“Oof. Good luck.”
Runara has been declared all but unteachable by her fencing tutors. It’s not that she’s incapable of wielding a blade, it’s just that her enthusiasm makes it hard for her to listen to instructions. Even Evander had given up trying, and his patience rivals that of the saints.
It’s good of Wren to try. It’s even better of her to give up part of her free time to do so. I’d happily have escorted her down here to train Runara during working hours.
I don’t want to interrupt them. I also can’t help overhearing them.
“I’m never going to get it!” Runara wails, as something falls to the floor.
There’s a smile in Wren’s voice. “Your brother said the same thing,” she says softly. “Only with less tears. And have you seen how good he is now?”
“H-he’s good?”
“He’s excellent.”
It’s an overestimation of my abilities—and I know she’s only saying it to cheer up Ru—but my chest feels oddly warm nonetheless. Wren doesn’t tend to shower me with compliments. She doesn’t even drizzle them.
“R-really?”
“Really. I’m very honest, you know. I don’t tend to lie.”
Runara stiffs a little. I think I hear Wren collecting the practice weapon.
“This is really important to you, isn’t it?”
Runara makes a sniffling, affirmative sound. “A princess should be able to protect herself,” she announces. “And her people.” There’s a short pause before she speaks again, like she’s ashamed of her thoughts. “And Cass, too.”
My heart sinks. No, no Ru. You don’t have to protect me now—
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Wren says.
“It isn’t,” Ru responds. “I know it’s good to be able to protect people, but I know Cass doesn’t like people looking after him, which is silly, because he’s looked after me my whole life and it’s never made me feel anything other than special.”
My chest tightens.
“It’s hard to accept help from others when you’re not used to it,” Wren explains.
“Well, he has no problem with people cooking for him or cleaning for him or washing his clothes…”
“That’s a fair point.”
“I wish he knew that it’s not bad to be protected.”
“I think he does,” Wren says, “but knowing something and surrendering to it are different things.”
“He doesn’t need to surrender. It’s not a fight.”
Wren’s voice goes very quiet for a moment. When she finally speaks again, it hardly seems like she’s speaking to Runara at all. “We all fight different kinds of battles.”
I turn away from the door. “Did you hear all that?” I ask Dain.
“Most, Your Highness.”
“I’d prefer that they didn’t know we overheard them.”
“Overheard what?”
We take our training elsewhere. Dain finds a secluded corner of the courtyard he assures me is private. It’s a fine day, the wind warm. It still can’t quite dislodge what we overheard.
I don’t know what unsettles me more, the fact that Wren complimented me, the fact my little sister wants to learn to protect me, or the fact that I seem to be made of glass and Wren can see right through me.
That’s the scariest thing about being in the dark. The exposure. Knowing that something else can see you, and you’re entirely powerless against them.