I awoke with a serious lack of zest that felt exactly on par for how late I'd stumbled into my bed. And everything about this morning felt taxing. The hour of rest I'd stolen; knowing I'd have to face Sam at some point; deciding if I should tell Elías about the affair he was having, or if it would be too much work convincing him not to stab the Crowned Prince of Chalke.

Even my feet were sore.

Josie opened the curtains allowing the sun to blind me. She was too chipper and she moved with a melody that only made sense, because I now knew she had likely seen a certain knight by now.

"Time to rise, Miss Svana!" she beamed.

She kept humming as she helped me out of the bed and rolled the blankets down.

"His Royal Highness has requested you to break your fast with him," she buzzed. "On the balcony, no less. So romantic."

"Is it?" I asked. "Who eats on a balcony?"

"Don't be so. We wouldn't want him to think your mood is anything more than a distaste for the hour."

"Speak for yourself," I muttered.

"Are you...? Did something happen?" She stooped like a wounded animal. "I thought-?"

"No," I countered, now burdened not to ruin her light. "No. Of course, not. I'm fine. Just not a morning person, as you said." I could conjure no excuse as to why I'd lied to Josie, beyond a battered pride.

"Oh." She regained her momentum and after browsing through the closet, produced the pale yellow skirt I so very much liked. "The flowers on your desk are his doing as well."

I turned to glare distastefully at the vase of daisies, rudely manifested.

Sam stood as soon as I entered the room that connected to the deck. His chair scratched across the stone and nearly fell with how quick he was to greet me.

"Princess," he called. With a flat hand he motioned for the opposing end of the table. I wasn't sure if it was original to its location or if he had dragged it out in another attempt at flattery. 

"I wanted to apologize," he said shyly. "For last night's indiscretion."

I stared. Indiscretion! He was mad!

"Please," he offered the seat again. "I'm glad you accepted my invitation."

"Was there an option not to?" I sat, reeling as one of his footmen appeared beside me with a glass of juice.

Sam joined me, laying a napkin over his lap. He whispered instructions to his staff as they fluttered about. "I realize that things are maybe not what you expected," he began.

"Or wanted," I said.

"Or wanted." He thanked the servants for our meal and quickly dismissed them, so we were alone. "The truth is," he said, but nothing else came with it.

A bird chirped somewhere, and the random starts of everyone's days in a busy palace, sounded below us. I looked down at my plate; toast and an apple, and his; bacon. Heaps of it.

"Lady Agatha and I have been friends for a long time. Our engagement was a deal our father's struck behind closed doors, and I didn't... I didn't know what to expect," he said. "I know I did not expect you to be so beautiful-"

"-You don't have to do this." My interruption baffled him. "I'm fine," I lied. "Did Mr. Evergreen tell you I was upset?"

"Mister... Cyrus? Did you speak to him this morning already? I asked him to wait for me."

"Wait for you? For what?"

"For... Pardon. What are you talking about?"

I froze. Apparently about to out myself for keeping company with a strange man last night. "...What?" I played dumbed.

"What?" And apparently it sold. "Your rides," he finally added.

"My rides?"

"You," he sighed. "I do listen," he insisted. "I may not like horses but I do listen when you say you do. You wanted to have someone to ride with. And luckily Cyrus has agreed to be your riding companion. For most days. Though he does have other work. My lessons are on Wednesdays, for instance, so-."

"My riding companion?"

"I thought that you would enjoy breaking Isa with him."

"Who is Isa?"

"Your horse!"

"Oh... Isaac."

"Yes. And Isa for short. See? I listen. Are you...unhappy? You said you wanted to ride. I thought-"

"You've... arranged for me to spend time with someone else?" I looked around, catching the glimpse of the man in question's careless brown hair bouncing about as he disappeared through the door beneath the balcony. "Every day?"

"Well not every day. He's mine on Wednesdays."

I sat.

"Princess, I promise you, if you give him a chance you will like him. Sure, he's not noble, and he's a bit crass. Rude, really. But he is remarkably skilled in many things. Riding being one them. And Cyrus is my closest friend. And as my fiancé, it's natural you should talk. It's a dream of mine you'll be friends. He's well versed in all-things horse; I'm not. And it helps that he is quite the decorated swordsman."

"What does that matter?" I begged.

"Well he can protect you," he said.

"Protect me? I have knights for that."

"Your knights have their obligations here with my father and their patrols now. What with the looming threat of bandits."

"They're doing patrols now? I didn't think the King took that seriously?"

"Never mind him. If you're unhappy with the arrangement, I could...?"

"Is it appropriate?" I asked.

Sam frowned. "Is what appropriate?"

"For me to spend my days with another man? I'm," I stuttered. "You wouldn't rather we spend time together?"

His face transitioned through a series of responses as I waited. "Well he's not a man, well he is. But he's a swordsman. A bodyguard. And riding companion. I think it's incredibly appropriate that we keep you safe while we investigate this horse-burning business."

"You intend to investigate?" I asked. "You both seemed indifferent before."

"Indifferent? No. In fact, I pressed it. Last night. I couldn't sleep, so I went to my father for you," he said, like that was impressive. "I am a man of action and I wanted to have proof of my sincerity this morning. I hope this will help you forgive me."

"It's forgiveness you want? Then you're ending things with her?"

It wasn't until my riding companion arrived in the opening beside us, that the Prince had anything more to say. "Ah! There he is!" 

"Are you ending things with her?" I asked again.

Sam bobbed his head at Cyrus, ignoring the question.

"Good morning," the swordsman sang. He nodded at his friend and, with a confidence hard to avoid, looked at me. "Princess."

I closed my mouth.

"Are you not hungry? You haven't touched your toast." Sam must have hoped to sweep last night's indiscretion under a metaphorical rug; to never speak of it again. As if taming and riding horses with a stranger could ever bring me something to mend the wound he'd carved in me.

"I've never broken a horse before?" I said; dull.

Cyrus snatched the fruit from my plate and bit into it, closing one of his eyes at me. Both of mine flew open and hurried to Sam's expression to see if he had caught the offense. He hadn't; grossly into his meat.

"You're in good hands," the Prince said. "Cyrus has been with us for many years, assisting Henry on and off." He paused eating, emphasizing syllables with his fork. "He goes as far as to stay in the barn. I saw him last night even."

"You saw him?"

"I was working late," Cyrus said. "I have a cottage not far from here, you remember." He shifted.

"Who's Henry?" I asked.

"The ostler," Sam said.

"Ostler? But I-?"

And he continued, interrupting. "So. It's settled then." I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my juice when he felt the need to add: "You're free to take advantage of Cyrus here-" sending it right back out and over the table!

Sam shook his head, dabbing the cloth to his face. "Don't be afraid to really make use of him."

"Um," I wilted. "That won't be necessary."

"Ah. You're scared," Cyrus sighed. "I thought she was an enthusiast, Sam?"

"Scared?" I huffed. "Of what exactly? Spending time with you?"

"Of the horse," he smirked, adding a poor attempt at mimicry. "I've never broken a horse before."

"I don't sound like that!" I cried.

Sam smiled, "You do sound a little like that."

"Ooh!" I scowled, snatching my dress into knots. I tore past the two of them and out into the hall, my voice burning hot through a series of gripes and moans.

Sam sighed, more confident now with his Blade at his side, as they tracked me out into the yard. "Princess," he sang. "I'm doing my best, I swear."

"Your best?" I asked. "If you really wanted to make things up to me, you would forsake other 'obligations,'" I said carefully. "Or just ride with me! Not! Assign me a nanny!"

"I told you," his voice dropped to a shameful whisper. "I'm terrified of horses!"

"You made fun of me moments ago for the very same!"

"That was all-"

"-It made me feel bad!" I snapped.

He nodded with a quiet apology. "What do you mean 'nanny?'"

"Come, Sam. Am I five?"

His brows went up, "I don't know how old you are."

I took a deeper breath and stepped close enough to where I thought my words might be shielded. "...You want to know where I am so you can continue to do what you wish to do.... with whom you wish to do it."

He met my eyes, denying it with the shake of his head. "I wouldn't hurt you so," he lied.

"Then end it."

His gaze broke first, finding the floor.

"It's fine," I reminded him. "I'm fine. Let us not forget, duty doesn't rest."

I could feel Elías seething from the end of the corridor, as he waited for me to make it to his post. He abandoned it to Ser Willoughby who had clearly been briefed on what was going on to the point that the idiot practically hid from me as I approached.

Elías doubled our pace, and with an invasive inspection over every line of my face, he growled. An eerily polite; "Where does the Prince find himself this morning?" was next.

"Eli," I groaned. "Stop. How did you even catch wind? Does Ser Willough-?"

"Of course Ser Willoughby knows. He was the one who told me."

"I see. Grand. So then everybody is aware, I'm sure."

"Svana," he said, taking my arm and leading me to the side of the hall to whisper. "For now only the three of us know. Willoughby caught the end of your disagreement in the hall and sought my counsel. Where did you say Sameer was?"

"It doesn't matter."

"He disrespected you," he scoffed.

"Yes," I shrugged. "But as long as we can keep this within these walls, I don't care."

"You don't care?"

"I was sent here, Elías, traded for peace. My purpose is to solidify it between feuding parties. I intend on doing just that."

He nodded, though I did not think for a minute he believed the words I spewed. "We will contain it."

"Good. I thank you." I waved brightly at one of the passing Chalke maids before ushering him outside. "I do not fear I should be seeing too much of the Prince this season anyway."

"You have a ball near every other week."

"Every other week?" I cried. "Damn!"

"...Do you wish for me to speak to him?" he asked plainly.

"I do not," I sang. "You're not exactly... No. I wish to go on about my day. My week. This season. And eventually my marriage... God."

"An oddly rational approach. I'm proud."

"And now I'm insulted, I think. What do you mean oddly rational?"

"What is it you were saying? About not seeing him." Elías narrowed his eyes at someone else, spooking them from any thoughts to eavesdropping and I tentatively dragged my hand along the flowers.

"He's arranged for me to ride with a friend of his. Every day. Except Wednesday, he'll remind you. I think so that he may keep an eye on me. Ridiculous. The men here are so threatened by my sex!"

"What friend? If you wish to ride so much, I shall accompany you."

"You don't even like being outside," I laughed. "Though I do always appreciate your unwavering devotion, Ser." I plucked one of the peonies. "Remind me to tell Josie I'd like these in my room. Tell her to throw out the daisies."

"Svana," he stressed.

"I don't know," I shrugged, twirling the plant between my fingers and watching it spin around my lie. "I think his name was... Cyrus; some kind of tree."

"Cyrus! As in Evergreen?"

"Is there something wrong with him?" I begged. Waiting. Hoping. Dreading?

Both of us stared at each other for a moment before he denied the thought all together. "No. Nothing. I've heard nothing of that sort."

My tongue met the back of my teeth as I struggled not to blurt out everything I thought I knew about the man. I wanted to ask what he had heard, and I wanted to confess that not only did I know his name, but that I found his casualty with me refreshing and infuriating! That I had spent the night with him, he had been shockingly kind, but I- I hesitated.

So many years eager for Elías' opinion left me equally terrified of his devout worship of Chivalry. In this moment, I didn't want to break decorum; disappoint him. And I didn't want him to talk with Cyrus, either.

"Thank you," I reiterated. "You're a good knight. And a better friend."

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