Of Swords And Horses (The Ostler's Boy Book 2)

Chapter Two

As is Oreian custom, when a Knight of the Kingsguard is appointed, there is a party thrown in his honor. Of course, the fallen brethren he is replacing is just as celebrated. His life; his sacrifice to the Crown.

The man I had supplanted had become ill, likely a result of old age. Nothing but a fever was present upon his condition at the time he passed, I'm told. Sometimes I've asked myself, was it chance or fate? But he didn't suffer; he didn't die in battle. I just got lucky, though at his expense.

Given that there are, at any time, a hundred to two hundred of us Blades across the Empire, the significance of making an elite squad of twenty-five, and in the adolescence of your career, is truly devastating. But in the best of ways.

Whichever influence you believe, I am, to this day, the youngest Knight to be appointed to the Guard. Also the youngest to be promoted to Lord Commander. There was never any question that I had earned the right from me, but it was always a possibility, I was aware, that given my uncle's favor with His Majesty, others would not be so quick to agree.

I worried often if I would fit in. The next soldier in age was five years my senior. After that eleven. I was closer in maturity to the squires! I had been a squire sooner than not.

But still, I tried to maintain a sense of decorum about myself. I watched the party from as close to the wall as I could remain, that is, between the times Uncle would drag me off to meet another aristocrat, or Lady. More than one Lady; he was intent on making a match for me.

We Dalton boys were never raised to be scoundrels. We were a polite sort, so the idea of wielding this armor around as a lure for the common jezebel was not something my uncle would ever understand, let alone allow. These were strictly social introductions. It's not that I did not enjoy the company of these girls, fawning over my blade, it was that... Well, years of focusing only on my craft had marked me shy.

When the Queen had finally come to congratulate me, I was tragically intimidated. It was no secret to myself that I was attracted to her. When I tell you she was beautiful, I don't mean that she was pleasing to look at, I mean that out of all the women in the Empire, every face I had ever passed upon the street or invented in my dreams, she was the only one I could remember while in her presence. She was... She was glorious.

I'd mistaken the sensation for reverence for my monarch. It was love.

Naturally, no sooner than I had quelled my nerves enough to greet her properly, she met me with an indifferent stare. I know now that she was in what my uncle would one day refer to as 'a low,' but at the time...

"Oi, Ser Elías had so many of the lasses aft'r him tonight, don't ya know?" one of the squires called within the barracks, our point of refuge after the party. "Surprised he didn't take a few back here for a proper welcome, eh?"

I hid my grin, more likely my blush, as I gathered my things for bed.

The barracks were a loud, rowdy place to call home, but in pursuit of earning the respect of my peers, I did not wish to house myself within Ser Dalton's manor off-site. I opted to stay with the other Blades; some of the squires, in the Knights Quarters, the facility attached to the back of the castle.