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

Chapter Eleven

Ser Dalton knocked on the door so loudly that July, it woke me up. He stepped by me as I opened the port for him, immediately going to the window to push its shutters. A brazen ray of sunlight cut across the floor and near-blinded me. "You've been summoned to His Majesty's study. Get dressed," he said.

"Aye, yeah," I muttered. I strolled to the dresser to complete the task.

Dalton sighed. I knew he had been awake. Longer than I had, despite my late hours kept in the castle, but the darkening circles beneath his eyes gave him away.

"Everything alright?" I asked.

He bobbed his head, though it was too easy and dismissive to mean the same. Something caught his eye, and he stopped and started a question in response. "You're... reading poetry?" he asked.

I looked to the nightstand where Eliza had left her favorite book of romantic odes.

"Aye," I sang, shrugging and pulling the shirt over my head. "On occasion."

"Where did you get that copy? It looks expensive," he said. His face was serious.

"I, uh," I shrugged another time, moving on to dress my boots. "Her Majesty, the Queen. She allows me a book sometimes. From the Library."

"Does she?" His face lit with, not a curiosity, but a knowledge I didn't like. "And you've chosen poetry?"

"I do like it, I guess." I tied the lace.

"Love poetry?"

"Aye, love poetry. What of it?"

We looked at one another. Ser Dalton changed the subject. "His Majesty wishes to speak strategy."

"Strategy? Of what?"

"War," he said.

"Yes, war," I moaned. "But what of it, and why me?"

"Hurry yourself, I'll inform you on the way." His eyes met the book once more before he left the cottage.

"Ser Elías," His Majesty said as I came in.

Ser Dalton was close behind. He shut the door, striding past me to take status at the somehow larger map now residing on the old desk. It hung off every side of it by nearly a foot, despite the curling edges.