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

Chapter Five

There was nothing I wanted more than to lead His Majesty's Kingsguard one day. Not an overnight achievement, but a goal, if any. The dream went back as far back as the idea to be a Knight did. If I was going to do it at all, I was not going to half-ass it. The need bled into my thoughts at the strangest times.

On one of my drunker evenings, amongst the brothers of the Guard, I imagined how Commander Elías would teach each and every one of them their trade. I considered how certain Blades learned differently than others. I thought about the discrepancies in all of our ages; how some had come from the old school of things, and how newer knights would come from another in the future. I had a plan for how I could gain everyone's respect, and a back up for that, should it fail. Every path was rooted in the Oath.

But that world; that fantasy, was hinged upon winning these games.

And the Knights' Games were not easy. They were archery, swords, and jousting back then, Dressage came many moons later. But more than sports, they were a test of all the senses, all at once. Of all a person's might, and though I was at the prime of my life, I was intimidated by my odds.

Why had I agreed to compete in such a competition with the stakes so high? Never had there been a Lord Commander that lost the Games! I reminded myself. I could be headed for self-destruction and for what?

These were the sorts of things I tortured myself with that night, lying on my cot. I had slung an arm behind my head, and I had planned to stare into Linen's mattress until I fell asleep. But this night; I would not find rest.

As the hour grew longer, the day, closer, I thought of less and less of anything, any idea, any question of the universe, until there was nothing left but her. It was only her.

What if someone saw it? The way she looked at me? I'd held her attention long enough, they could've.

What if it was Linen? He hadn't been far away.

Was Linen trustworthy enough not to endanger Her Majesty's honor? Would he humiliate her by telling the other men? By emphasizing 'Candy's' appeal? How it reached impossible heights of persuading even the Crown, the epitome of fidelity?

People looked at other people all the time. It didn't mean anything. It didn't make me special. I was not some delicacy; a desert or chocolate to be devoured within the hideaways of halls. Eliza should not have to suffer for my benefit, for Linen's loud mouth! He–!

...He had not actually sinned against the Queen, I had to remember. I had to keep from kicking the bottom of his bed.

And there was no telling that he had even picked up on what I had. If I were a fool, then he was... Well he was worse off, I would say.

I tossed, settling onto my side.

But what if it happened again? What if somebody saw it and told the King?