Prologue
Once upon a time, there was a boy—the ostler’s boy.
“And I will be your bravest knight!” he announced excitedly as he thrust the end of his stick into a hay bale.
We’d been playing Swords and Horses since the rooster’s call, and the bitter chill dark began to fade.It was more than a game for children; it was a chance to dream, and dream we did. Of many things, but at the heart of every last one of my thoughts, Willem Ólason.
Except, Willem was hardly a boy. He was fifteen and very tall, and I was thirteen and very not, and in the eyes of our empire’s law, that made him a man and me a girl. Still, there were few days I woke without his wild curls on my mind. I would remember how their blond bodies danced in the sunlight the day before or how they shrouded his strangely perfect ears, and, in the mornings, as soon as I opened my eyes, I came alive to listen for movement in the hall. When it was silent, I would hurry down the corridor to the kitchen, sneak by the cook, exit the back door, squeeze myself beyond the blocky hedges, dare the roses and their brutal thorns, and then climb the fence that barred the Castle from the stables in the yard. It was locked until six, but from five until then, I found him. He was always thereso early, and I longed to see his face, grinning at the sight of my disobedience. He was the only thing worth waking up for, and since he’d arrived, he was my absolute obsession.
Father’s estate spanned from the furthest northern point of the Oreian Mountains all the way to the shallow forests before the Capitol, Ísfjall. The King’s Land, they called it, though more than just the King dwelled within its trees. A few workers and their families lived there as a condition of employment. Some Swords as well, before they married, though the ones who were too young to afford their own accommodations stayed in knights' quarters instead. While most of our staff took residency in the servants’ hall, Willem and his father took refuge in the Lord Commander's old cottage just past the hill.
Ser Elías was a kind man but incredibly private. He rarely leased his home to strangers, so it was natural that his generosity stuck out, especially when Father teased him for hisbleeding heart.It took weeks of spying upon them to consume that Elías barely charged them rent and another two to realize it was because they’d recently lost Will’s mother.
For a month after my discovery, I spent the early hours passing through the forest so that I could secretly analyze their personalities and try to force an introduction. They were never there. One day, I realized they were working, and in my finest performance, I stumbled into the barn lost, and the rest was history. Willem walked me home. The next day, I delivered the same act, and it was a third before he expressed his suspicion. On the fourth, we became friends.
On one particular day, the sun was very high. It was well past time to start lessons with my governess, Miss Hellveig, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to find her.I didn’t want her to findme.I wanted to hide within the stronghold of the stables forever and twirl the precious swan feather Willem had given me that morning. I wanted to seek out animals in the clouds with himand argue over which they were, and I wanted to watch his rowdy hair swing with his gallant display of playing my knight. I wanted anything to stay with him. By the end of summer, I was in love.
“You’re getting good at that, Ser Willem,” I teased, brushing the loose hay from my dress. I stood to perch behind him, proudly critiquing his form. “What a noble knight for a noble queen,” I said.
“Aye.”
Will was lost in the battle before him, practicing the flourishes he’d learned from Elías a week prior. He was very unaware of the creeping blush upon my face and very unaware of the nerve I was conjuring in my chest.
“Ser Willem?” I asked, tapping his shoulder.
He turned around but quickly furrowed his brow.
“What?” I begged.
“Why does your face look like that?” he asked. “Are you unwell, Svana? Should I fetch my father? He’s just–”
“No!” I said. It grew hotter. “W-What do youmeanwhy does my face look like this? It offends you, does it?”
“It’s red,” he said. “Like very red. Have you caught the plague?”
“The plague?” I balked. “This north?”
“And it’s twisty.”
“Twisty?”I stuttered through a few more starts before adjusting coldly and straightening my back. “There’s nothing wrong with my face, Willem. This is just my face.”
The stick settled to his side as he pondered me a bit longer. “I think I’d have noticed if it’d always been that bright.”
“Do flatter me more,”I said, rolling my eyes. I couldn't help but touch my cheek. It was on fire. “You think you cannot injure my vanity because we are friends? Well, I say you will be sorely mistaken, Ser. I–”
His hand met my elbow. “Svana, are you well or not?”
I looked at where our skin had met. “...I think so.”
He gave a single nod, letting go to clear his throat. Then he looked around. “...Perhaps you should get on to the library, then? You’re late as it is.”
“I don’t want to go,” I dared.
“Miss Hellveig will be looking for you,” he said.
My eyes glinted at his. “Then let her look. I want to stay here. I want to stay here with you.”
“She’ll look here first,” he added. “She knows we are close. She doesn’t like me.”
