A little after we had finished, we found ourselves trudging through the forest next to where we'd sat. Cyrus led the way, his boots crushing the sticks and scattered leaves of this uncharted sect, and just when I had decided to call attention to how convinced I was we were lost, he stopped, sweeping his hand out to show us the prize for our efforts.

A lake. Or pond, whatever the difference was, living beneath rock and trees. He was too proud of himself, having brought us here without the assistance of a map, and his grin was not going to let us go on without first praising him. "Well?" he insisted.

"It's lovely," I said. "Not sure it was worth the mile it took to get here, but-"

"We should go swimming!" Josie sang. Her eyes were alight but then she caught the implication of that suggestion as both Willoughby and I turned to her, strangely afflicted with matching expressions.

"Swimming?" I asked. "How would we-?"

Cyrus snapped his fingers at her idea, excited. "A clever woman," he laughed. He weaseled out of his jacket and tossed it to the side. My knight and I became hyper-aware of where this was going.

"Are you alright with this?" he asked me, hushed, and politely touching my arm, to turn me from the stripping man beside us. I glanced over, happy to find that he had left his undershirt and pants on, but absolutely stricken by the sight. I blinked, awed, closing my mouth and then found Willouhgby again just as Cyrus ran and leapt into the pond; a loud splash.

Josie was less faithful to her own suggestion, leaving most of her clothes on, and only losing the uppermost layer. I was surprised to find that his eyes never left mine to look at her, until I answered. "I'm fine with it," I told him.

I wasn't sure what his face was trying to convey, but he relaxed, agreeing. "Let's leave this bit out with Elías, then, yeah?"

"Oh, God!" I cried, pulling my vest off. "If Elías knew I was about to get into the water with the three of you!" The idea was hilarious. Hilariously bad. "Well, he'd at least murder you," I explained. "Definitely Cyrus." I stopped with my shift, but I did not cannonball into the water like Willoughby did, and I didn't laugh like Josie. I stepped timidly towards the very end of the rocky bed, and waited. "He might spare Josie and I."

"Get in the water, Swan," Cyrus called to me, treading impatiently.

"Is it cold?" I asked.

"You can swim right?" he asked.

"Of course I can swim," I muttered. "Is it cold?" I didn't actually care. I just hesitated getting into the water because... Well because. I didn't know why I couldn't. Fear? Embarrassment? Elías?

Josie splashed the two of them and they turned to retaliate, leaving my attention. I crossed my arms, maybe a little harmed by the diversion but my discontent was easily caught by the swordsman's eye. He panted, forgetting the uproar that Willoughby still found himself in and watched me. Expectantly.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes and turned towards my clothes, but he swam to the ledge and pulled himself out of the water, to stalk towards me, a playful, predatory look in his eyes. Cyrus dipped, threatening to collect me at the legs, and I started, clutching my shoes to my chest. He did it again, and I yelped!

As impossible as it was, he looked even better wet than he did dry. His clothes were... too defining in places; chest taut beneath. I gasped a little as he backed me towards the woods, but he was too quick for me to escape. He snaked his arm around my hips and threw me over his shoulder, like I was a sack of potatoes, then spun us towards the pond.

"What are you doing!?" I cried, pounding my fists into his back. "Put me down this instance!"

"As you command," he teased, releasing me into the water.

I thrashed, coming to the surface, fighting to see past my defeated braid. Cyrus held nothing back, cackling as he joined me, moving the hair out of my face and smoothing it into the rest. His hands slid from my crown, to his sides and he smiled. "That's a good look for you," he joked.

Willoughby and Josie swam closer to us, both clearly waiting for my reply, I wanted to yell at him; I wanted to be upset, but the horseplay had amused me. I smiled at him, in time to douse the afterglow of his compliment; a broad, very confident glimmer across his face, dunking him below the surface.

Cyrus rushed back, returning the favor and the four of us played rowdily, and stupidly for another hour before we got out.

"You swear you're not going to tell Elías?" I whispered at Willoughby, as he returned Tails to his pin.

"Tell him what?" he asked. He latched the gate, taking the rag from its hook and wiping his hands.

"About the... pond. And the picnic. Won't he ask you what we did?"

"The thing about Elías," he sighed. "He just asks that you're taken care of. The man worries himself sick about you, you should know."

"That doesn't answer my inquiry, and if we're to have another argument, I want to be prepared!"

"Aye. Well he won't be armed for it from me," he said. "Far as I'm concerned, we rode around the countryside the afternoon."

"I... Really? Thank you."

His brows came to a point as he replied, "For what?"

"For," I slouched. Cyrus finished with the other horses, sharing little tidbits about everything with Josie, though she was hardly a good participant, occasionally stealing glances at Willoughby. "For letting me swim, and venture into the wilderness, and for being ... Nice to me." I frowned.

"I see," he took a breath, following my eyes, but if he knew the nature of my thoughts, he didn't say.

It'd occurred to me, sometime in the night, after I'd been laying in the bed; alone with my thoughts, that Cyrus never kissed me a second time! He hadn't even appeared to want to. Sure, he'd asked me what I 'wanted' from our rides together, I thought. But it wasn't as though I knew for certain what he'd meant. We were rudely interrupted and therefore I was left no time to formulate a concept! I didn't even know what he wanted.

And that- that insecurity- germinated. Rooting and sprouting into a loud idea by the time our party had reconvened for the next morning. The day, as a whole, was not awful by any excuse. Even in my imagination, but I found myself upset that he hadn't found himself alone with me.

Not even once.

Hardly the mark of a man who was interested in a lady, I told myself.

Now it was Wednesday, I supposed he expected to have another twenty-four hours before I assaulted him with all the questions he was responsible for. Little did he know, I wasn't going to wait. At least not to see him. Naturally I would have to hold my tongue on you know, other things, given his audience. But!

I strolled casually near the yard where the two men I had sought out this morning drew their wooden swords at one other. On the first pass, I guessed they hadn't seen me. So I walked by again. The other way. Then, I wandered significantly closer to their sparring, but when they didn't break apart to greet me, I had no choice but to shatter the silence by force, clearing my throat and obnoxiously so.

Sam cycled a near full-circle to identify what had startled him, and when he realized it was me, he shared a very clearly confused look with his friend. "Princess?" he panted, digging the tip of his weapon into the dirt. Is ever'thing alright?"

"Yes," I muttered. "What would give you the impression it wasn't?"

He paused. "You've just made an awful sound. I. ...Well. If you're fine, and not choking, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He wiped his arm across his forehead, eradicating the sweat, and I felt guilty. Guilty for intruding upon their practice that was apparently so strenuous. And guilty for humiliating myself like this. Choking! For a boy, no less. For Cyrus.

How stupid I must look, I thought when the Blade didn't say anything. That only fueled my worry. His jaw clenched as he bored into the back of Sam's head. He said something about water, turned around, and started to walk away!

"You don't have to flee on my account," I scoffed. It was enough to stop him, though he wasn't exactly animated about it. He came and stood next to Sam, cracking his neck and I whimpered a bit. "How-how is practice?" I added.

The Prince smirked, dropping his gaze to reinspect me. Like I was some sort of puzzle he was trying to conquer. "I like that color on you," he said. "I don't recall your dresses being so. Vibrant."

Cyrus scowled, I think without meaning to because it almost instantly fell off his face the moment he seemed to become aware of it. I touched my bodice. "Thank you," I said, shy. "Miss Swift's work." My eyes went to the swordsman and another awkward moment froze time for us.

"Right," Cyrus declared. "Let's call it a day, Sam."

"What?" the other flustered. "We've not been out here long!"

"Aye," he shrugged, using the length of his blade to point. "But your princess clearly misses you. Take her on a walk, spend time with her."

"I don't-!" I started, but Sam was ahead of me, starting his sentence a fraction before mine.

"I could-!" He stopped, acknowledging the offense. "Apologies. Go ahead."

"I ...didn't mean to interrupt your morning," I plead. "I just thought." I searched for an excuse. "I could come see how you train...?"

The idea was not well-received, encouraging a different kind of frown from both. Finally, Sam begged, "Why?"

"Because," I said. Cyrus and I were locked in a terrible glancing contest, that neither of us could commit to. "I... do miss you," I lied, hoping it was enough for someone else to catch.

"I see." the Prince stewed in my confession for a second. He blinked a few times, checked in with his partner for another set, and then exhaled. "I suppose we haven't seen each other in some time?"

"Not really," I replied.

"Aye... I've come to expect you... Not here in the yard." He huffed defeatedly, "But you're right," and picked up his sword. "She wants to watch us train, old goat." He moved to strike at Cyrus, but the surprise was caught and partially parried. Cyrus took a broad step back from Sam and frowned, and Sam added; "Well let's give her a show."

A wild competitive blaze sailed between the two of them, and as their sticks crashed and slid together and off of each other. They spun and spun; twirling around. They carried deeper into the pasture and had begun to draw a crowd of Palace workers. Each fighter moved fiercer, harsher, trickier into the combat; each desperate to best the other, and I- Well! I stood there like an idiot in an idiot's fog. Insanely attracted to how violent the things were becoming.

I fell into a daydream of Swords & Horses; a time where wonder was enough to wake you before the morning sun. When court and class meant nothing, and two people could madly assault each other without fear of consequence. No crowns, no duty, no rules. Just the clatter of sticks striking other sticks; childish play.

"What are they doing?"

Elías was next to me, asking a very reasonable question, but at an unreasonable time. At least, I felt. I sucked in an incredible amount of air as he manifested.

"Steady on," he frowned. "What's gotten into you?"

"I just- Mmh." A guttural noise came out of my throat, and, "Um. Nothing. Nothing's gotten- Elías? Elías." I stood taller.

He folded his arms across his chest, returning to the field. "A flashy fellow, isn't he?"

I shrugged, mirroring his motion, "I'd say it came with the title, if I were forced to wager," trying to put away the discomfort watching Cyrus chase around my fiancé had encouraged. "Feels very Chalke."

"...I was speaking of the Blade," he sighed, but didn't add to it.

After a painful silence, I swallowed my pride to touch his arm, ignoring the repetitive knocks around us. "Ser," I said. "You must allow me to-"

"I've had difficulty catching you this week," he said. I sank as he talked over me. A trait that was new and unexpected from my friend. "A few times I came to your chamber. It seems you start your days earlier than before."

"Oh, I've been," I swallowed. "Riding a lot. With Josie, still. And Willoughby."

"And Cyrus," he hummed, saying the name I'd try to avoid.

"Yes, well. It would be difficult to shake the handler."

"Of course." He didn't laugh. "I'm here to apologize for my behavior."

"Your-? No," I remarked. "You-"

"I was out of line. You have authority over me; I thank you for reminding me of it. And if it is your wish that I remain at a distance, I must heed to it."

"A distance?" I cried, though his face did not wear the same humor mine did. "Please, I don't want tha-!'

Then a loud, 'OW!' erupted from somewhere, twisting me around! I was certain Cyrus could have been injured, but when I discovered it was Sam's cry, I breathed. The moment not lost upon my knight; he watched my expression drop with careful eyes.

Sam shook out his hand, angry at first. The line of his jaw hardened but by the time he went to reach for his sword, he was grinning and at the end of Cyrus'.

"Always keep your eye on the opponent," Cyrus told him. "A moment can make the difference."

They exchanged bows and Sam conceded, throwing his weapon into a stack of hay. "Well then," he exhaled heavily. "Now you see why I employ this one." Not a second passed before his excitement left Cyrus for me. Unfazed by his loss, he crossed the yard, planted his feet determinedly in front of mine, and smiled. "Ser Elías," he sang. "Princess;" softer.

My eyes narrowed. "Sameer. Whom I've already greeted?"

"I'd given it some thought," he said. "And I'd love a stroll. You'll join us, Ser?"

"A... stroll?" I stuttered.

"You've gone out of your way to find me; I can give you a hour."

Elías glanced between us. "I'm not much of an outdoorsman, but-" I glowered and he resigned. "-Give me a moment to assign another to my post."

"Grand!" Sam emoted. "Go find your replacement, I'll freshen myself up, and Svana and I will meet you here."

"Are we-?" I choked. "Not going to invite Mr. Evergreen? He's right there."

Mr. Evergreen laughed, "I am," he said slower, "tragically busy."

"Busy?" I croaked.

"Yes," he replied. "Quite."

I wanted to moan, melting into the disappointment. Cyrus was impossible. Was he sporting gloom or giddiness? What could he possibly have to-?! Sam patted my shoulder as he passed, "I'll return shortly, love."

My knight waited a moment longer, until the Prince was gone. He eyed me hesitantly as I collected my hands and stared into the dirt, and relieved, knowing the ability to read that look was still intact, I said; "Sam and I are getting on well."

"I see." His eyes travelled towards where Cyrus stood behind me some ways. He said; "I'll be right around the corner," and walked away.

I had expected him to glare at or threaten him, but he hadn't, and that confused me. It left me feeling a weird sort of emptiness. Had Elías abandoned his ever-watchful, annoyingly painful efforts towards me? Over a little fight?

Cyrus shook his head and picked up the Prince's discarded sword. He rolled his neck as he headed back into the stables.

"Um-" I followed him, eager to finally find a moment with him, "Mr. Evergreen!" but he wouldn't slow down.

"Mr. Evergreen, now, is it?" he mumbled.

He leaned the swords against the wall across from the door and collected a bag from off the ground. When I appeared behind him, he sighed loudly. "Is there something I can help you with, Princess?"

"Princess?" I begged. "Not Svana?"

"Mr. Evergreen, not Cyrus," he replied.

"I see," I said, nodding. "I see, I see. Alright," I started. "Then I was correct to trust my nerves. As you'd have it." I whirled back around, stomping towards the door.

"Enjoy your afternoon," he sang, sarcastically.

"You enjoy yours!" I said, spinning back.

"Oh, I will."

"Good!" Suddenly I was very aware of how upset I was; very aware of how close to puking I was. "You know what?" I shook my head. "I hope it rains and whatever plans your afternoon holds are ruined!"

"Rain would ruin your plans, too, Princess." he rolled his eyes.

"Not if it only rains over you!" I jabbed my finger in his face.

"Only over- that's ridiculous!"

"No!" I whined. "What's ridiculous is thinking you would be happy to see me this morning!"

He tilted to one side, replaying the words and adjusting the strap against his arm. Eyes narrow and cooling; tempering with a step, he said; "Happy?"

I crossed my arms. "Yes," and shifted uncomfortably to control the rise and fall of my facade, dropping my eyes to the left. "I've since come to my senses. Don't fret."

Sam called for me from outside the barn, and I took a ragged, embarrassing breath. I went to go, but Cyrus caught my sleeve, turning me. "You came to see Sam?" he asked.

"Sam?" I scoffed.

"Svana?" We heard again. "Where did you wander off to?"

"I'm in here," I called back to him. Hiding would do no good.

Cyrus took on a peculiar look, lowering his voice. "You told him you missed him."

"You said that," I whispered. "I followed your lead. The only thing I've done is spend all night devising ways to see you. To humiliate myself, apparently."

"Ah ha!" Sam laughed as he poked his head into the room and gestured towards the swordsman. "Oh, pray. Leave poor Cyrus alone. The man said he was busy," he teased.

"She isn't a bother," he replied, meeting my eyes.

"...Is Elías out there?" I asked. I stepped past them both as Sam shrugged.

"I'm sure he'll be along. Come, let me show you the latest blooms in our garden." His hand wrapped across my back as he moved me towards the door and away from any resolution.

"Our?" I remarked.

• • •

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