The Ostler's Boy (The Ostler's Boy Book 1)

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Advise your tongue to forget that name, or I will cut it out," Elías quipped.

Hellveig scowled, looking behind her as she realized she was at the top of the stairs. She dropped her cane to the next step for balance. "Eliza." No one moved.

The foyer was silent, eerily so, and though I could feel Elías' mood sink, he did nothing to show it to her. He let go of his sword, and stepped away.

"Coward," Hellveig hissed. "His Majesty will hear of this."

"Do what pleases you," he told her. "I care not for the tribulations of Satan's wench."

She gasped, placing her hand over her chest and then declaring, loud; "You will be stripped of your command! Removed from this palace, and so help me God, if it is the last thing I do, I will keep the Princess as far away from you as I can! You will never see her again! Never!"

It wasn't until Elías' sharp inhale that I was even aware of what I had done. Fifty feet below us, around the winding stair; laid flat out on the marble floor, Hellveig's body contorted in a way that she'd never looked more like herself.

Dead and mangled; all alone.

"Svana," he worried.

"I can't, I can't lose you," I said, terrified. "You cannot be taken away. I won't survive. I will. I will hang myself. Don't leave me!"

"...You need to go. Get to your room. I'll take care of this."

"Promise me," I whimpered. "Promise me you won't leave me!"

"I won't leave you. Not ever. My Fealty is yours," he promised. "Now, go."

The Castle was a nightmare of fury, panic and dismay. King Sameer pored over a mound of documents, and his advisors spoke all at once around him, as I was expected to stand quietly nearby. They only asked me questions like 'what I was doing out that way,' 'whom I was with,' and 'what did I mean, I recognized one of the bandits.'

I felt more like the enemy than the victim, and neither Elías, Willoughby, or even Cyrus could talk to me while they were all interviewed more seriously.

Sam was unsure of what to do. His only skill seemed to be glancing back and forth between his father's leering eye, and me.

"We'll need to address this now," Elías urged. He pointed brutally at one of the maps. "If they-"

"And how should I do that? Assemble a caravan of our own? Who's going to lead it?" The King asked. "You? Oreia?"

"You, Your Majesty!" he replied. "Why would I lead your-?"

"As I see it, the Princess recognized the man. Which makes him Oreia's problem. If she isn't in on it."

"Are you serious?" I cried. "You think I, what? Staged my own assault?"