He met my eyes. His gaze passed from Sameer to Cyrus, to me again. There was something off about his arrival that made me sick. Something off about Elías’ face.
“Elías?” I asked again.
Sam and Cyrus still took whispered jabs at each other.
“It doesn’t matter,” Cyrus said. “You’ve already won.”
“How have I won?”Sam asked.
“Because it’s over,”he replied. “Youmarryher in a matter ofdays. And I, no matter the circumstance, no matter myfeelings, can never have her like that. And it’s not enough. So I concede, you win.”
“Svana,” Elías spoke. His voice was low and cordial.
“Your feelings?” Sameer asked. “Are you… Do you mean to say that you, what? That youloveher?”
Evergreen nodded, but despite the confirmation of everything I had longed to hear, my attention went back to my knights.
“Svana,” Eli said again.
Then it dawned on me, and I felt a deep unsettling in my soul.
“I…” I searched the yard. “That’s the… the King’s personal guard?”
Elías nodded. He drew his sword and swung it out in decorative rotation, just as I had seen him practice a hundred times before. In a mirror of the motion, all of the men behind him did it, too. Then they brought their points down to stab the dirt and the hilts of each blade pinned in front of their faces.
I shook my head. “No,” I said. I inhaled sharply. “No, where is my father? Is he here?”
Each knight took a knee–even the commander. In unison, they said,“On my faith, it is my vow–”
I shuttered, trying to force Ser Elías back to his feet but he would not budge.
“Stop it,” I said. “Stop it!”
“My sword is yours to wield. I observe no other fealty, than that of the Lord’s and yours.”
“Elías,” I begged him. “Stop. Stop it, please. No. No. What’s happening? Where is my father?”
“This is my oath, my honor, my duty, on pain of death.”
The knights went silent. They waited.
“Elías,” I tried. “Is he, is he dead?” I asked.
“Oh, God,” Sam muttered. He took a step closer then paused. “Svana…”
“No,” I told him. “No, there’s been a mistake. It’s fine. Everything is fine.”
Elías lifted his gaze. He waited for my response. I was flailing internally; I tried to recall the words I was taught to say but every attempt was a failure. All I could hear was Father’s voice.
Iron does not shatter. Iron does not shatter. Iron does not shatter.
“I, uh,” I couldn't think.
“Humbled,”Elías whispered.“You are humbled.”
I nodded, but my voice was shaky. “I-I am humbled and accept, I accept your fealty. Rise.”
They did, noisily, and then Ser Elías released an anxious sigh. There was a solemn truth behind his eyes and even though I knew, I said,“He’s dead, isn’t he?”
