“He lacks honor?” I asked.
“A joke,” the Prince said. He dismissed my question, saying, “Come, if you have a moment. I’ll properly introduce you. You can decide for yourself.”
“Oh, well, I…?”
Elías replied for me. “I think we should unpack.”
Sam looked at him for permission. He said, “I have something for Her Highness in exchange for her precious time. Would you not humor me, Ser?”
“You have something forme?”I asked.
“Your Highness,” my knight said.
“We don’t wish to be rude, Eli,” I said. “Yes, Your Highness. We’d be delighted to join you.”
“Cyrus Evergreen!”Sameer yelled, towing me across the field by my hand.
His skin was warmer than the air. My shoes sank in and out of the mud and disrupted the dirt where it was dry, forcing a basic spring in my step to evade the ground’s grip and the embarrassment of becoming part of the landscape. I nearly crashed into the Prince’s back as he came to a full and sudden stop right outside the stable’s sliding door.
“Princess?”Ser Elías offered me his hand, and I brushed it off, feigning a collectiveness I didn’t possess.
“I’m fine, Ser,”I whispered back.
“It’s horrible out here,” he replied. “Let’s go back inside. Your shoes are ruined.”
Then Lord Evergreen, in all his mighty air of mystery, returned to our field of vision as he struck his mannequin one final time with a loud exhale. His sword slid across the figure’s gut, then slacked in his grip. He looked quite satisfied.
Sam clapped sarcastically and slowly. “Bravo, good sir,” he said. “Bravo.”
His subject turned around to look at us, then rolled his eyes atme.
“Now, why can’t I learn that stuff?” the Prince asked.
Cyrus leaned the pommel against the outside wall and started to put his things away. “Sameer,” he said. He passed his gaze between the Prince, me, and then Ser Elías before landing back on his friend. “What is it you want?”
He was different from how I remembered him from the square. He was more deliberately crass. His manners were nonexistent, even if they had been scarce before. Upon closer inspection, the practice form was beaten with a clear wave of focused frustrations in his wake. Some seams had gone awry. Some part of me wanted to ask him what was wrong, but the Prince beat me to it.
“What’s gotten into your bonnet?” he pried.
“Nothing,” Cyrus said. “Tired from our travels. The hunt. It’s been a long day. I thought I was off this evening.” He glanced at me.
“You didn’t hunt,” Sam teased. “You don’t like it. Youcollected.”
I smiled at the swordsman. He frowned.
“Greetings,” I said, on instinct.
Cyrus extended his neck with confusion. He went by me into the yard.
Sam followed; we went with him.
“Allow me to properly introduce my sweet Princess Svana, dear friend,” he said. His words quickened with his boots. “As you seemed to haveevaporatedfrom the hall this afternoon, I thought to bring her here.”
“Aye,” Cyrus replied.
“Can you not be bothered?” Sam asked.
Lord Evergreen stopped briefly, then bowed disinterestedly. “I think I caught her introduction. Didn’t I?”
