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

Chapter Eight

I received a letter a few days later, directly from the steady hands of Miss Cory.

The envelope was feminine. I remember thinking Ser Dalton had really nailed her ambience with that word. The parchment it was made from had a metallic sheen to it, though it was closer to white, like ivory, or the freshly fallen snow of the Oreia Winter after the first light had hit it in the morning.

There was a seal on the back. It was a golden rose, and before I read it, I knew who it was from. I looked to Cory for some explanation but once it had left her fingers, it was mine, and she was gone.

Which left me wary to hold it.

I did not want to be caught. I walked a few feet considering it, before I hid inside an empty guest room, if you can imagine. I slid my finger beneath the wax to break it, and it was short-worded, but powerfully suggestive.

Intimidating, even for a man like me.

Ser Elías,

Congratulations on your win, both in the Games and in proving your value to me. You are to meet me in the Library, Wednesday morning, to resume your previous detail.

Do not be late. I have something for you.

E.

The signed initial was ornate; careful. The ends of it swirled in a way that they looked like they belonged at the start of a fairy tale and I hung on the final promise of something.

I didn't know why she had felt the desire to put her pen to paper, just to acknowledge my 'value' as she had called it, but I was ...incredibly touched that she had. I buried that letter, deep into my things, and I prayed that it would never see the light of day without my strict invitation, nor get lost in the rowdiness of Barracks Life.

So Wednesday morning I ventured to arrive at my post earlier than my usual time. Eliza was already waiting for me. I laughed, looking for her maid, but she was alone.

"I thought I would arrive before you," I said. "I hope this doesn't count as late?"

Her palms gripped the table she was leaned against, and she shook her head. "Good morning to you, as well, Knight."

"Oi. Good morning, my apologies. I did not–"

"–I'm nervous," she confessed.

"...Nervous? Why?" I checked the hall. "To be alone with me?"

"Yes, but not in the way you think."

I narrowed my brow. "We could wait in the corridor for Miss Coraline?" She shook her head.

"She's not coming," she said too fast. "I have a gift for you, of sorts."

The way her sentence formed was almost too shy to be the same woman who had so fiercely educated me of her intentions to survive, but it was. It was just a hidden facet, shimmering before me, like the diamond on her hand.