The Royal Companion

by Tanya Bird

  He seemed relieved.

  ‘I was afraid you were going to ask me to dance.’

  ‘I will spare you the embarrassment. I am afraid I am not very good.’

  He glanced around for some seats. ‘I see Fedora has been teaching you modesty.’

  Aldara gestured towards an empty table. ‘Do you really believe modesty can be taught? I thought we agreed to be honest.’

  ‘If you are good at your role, I will never know.’

  He offered her his hand while she took her seat. Aldara managed to appear casual as she took hold of it, but inside she felt something very different. Once he was seated, it took her a moment to work up the courage to look at him again. She was more nervous than she had imagined she would be. Her mouth was drying up, so she reached for the jug of water in front of her. Before her hand could take hold of it, Tyron caught her by the wrist and turned her hand palm up. She stilled and stopped breathing as he studied the calluses on them.

  ‘Who instructed you to shovel snow?’ he asked, releasing her hand.

  Forgetting the water, she placed her hands in her lap. ‘No one instructed me to. I was trying to help.’

  ‘The sick servant.’

  ‘The very sick servant.’

  He kept his eyes on her. ‘He was sent home to rest.’

  She blinked. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘He was always free to return home. We do not force sick servants to labour.’

  ‘Of course. I was simply trying to prevent him losing his wage.’

  He continued to watch her. ‘Can I see your other hand?’

  ‘Why?’ she asked, not moving. He seemed taken aback, so she immediately held the other hand out for his inspection.

  ‘You are not here for hard labour. Fedora should never have allowed it.’

  She was having difficulty reading his mood. He seemed angry at her. ‘I prefer to feel useful.’ She looked into her lap.

  Tyron’s eyes did not leave her. ‘It appears I am more tired than I realised.’

  Aldara reminded herself to breathe. ‘You did well to show up at all. I am sure the last thing you feel like is difficult company.’

  He nodded. ‘You are right. That is why I am seated with you and avoiding my family.’

  His body language suggested he was relaxing. ‘Have you eaten?’ she asked, eyes on the food in front of them. The duck was sitting in a pool of spilt wine. ‘I don’t think that is a sauce.’

  ‘As appetising as it looks, I think I’ll pass. But you go ahead,’ he said, resting a hand on the table.

  Aldara had a strange urge to reach out and touch it, but she kept both hands in her lap. His gaze seemed to be fixed on her. She was about to ask what he was looking at when a brass cup slammed onto the table in front of her, its contents splashing onto the linen dressed table and the surrounding food. Pandarus stood on the other side of the table, his face flushed from dancing and drink. He was holding Hali tightly by the wrist as though she might flee from him. She was also drunk, but Aldara could tell by the panic in her expression he was hurting her.

  ‘You know, you two are the most boring people here tonight,’ Pandarus said, staring down at her. ‘Does she not dance either, brother?’ His eyes shifted to Tyron.

  Tyron stood up, and Pandarus staggered back a few unsteady steps. Hali gave a small cry of pain as he pulled her along with him.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Tyron asked.

  Pandarus looked at Aldara, who remained in her seat, eyes on Hali.

  ‘Trying to decide if we got our money’s worth,’ he replied. He stepped forward and leaned across the table in her direction. ‘Is your only talent how tightly you can keep your legs closed?’

  Tyron’s hands clenched into fists, but before he had an opportunity to use them, Leksi appeared next to him.

  ‘There are people waiting to speak with you,’ he said, placing a hand on each of Tyron’s shoulders. A clever tactic in case he should need a decent grip.

  Tyron and Pandarus stared at one another. The guests seemed to have gone quiet for a moment, their attention on them.

  ‘Go!’ Pandarus spat, waving him away. ‘People are waiting to speak with you. I am surprised they have not formed a line.’

  Aldara slowly stood up. ‘I wonder if perhaps I could borrow Hali from you, my lord? We were invited to dance earlier, and it seems the guests might need some encouragement.’

  Pandarus was holding Hali at arm’s length, and Aldara could see all the veins in her hand protruding. He looked around, and when he realised all eyes were on them, he released his grip on her.

  ‘Tell me we are not quarrelling over women,’ Leksi said. ‘There are plenty to go around.’

  Pandarus took a drunken step back from the group. Guests returned to their conversations.

  ‘Go, dance,’ Pandarus said to Hali. ‘I need a drink.’ He walked over to where Astra was seated and barked an order at her. She reluctantly stood and followed him.

  ‘I suppose we better dance,’ Aldara said.

  Leksi nodded. ‘Good idea. And we better find someone for you to talk to so I don’t appear a liar,’ he said to Tyron, leading him away from the table.

  Tyron’s eyes remained on Aldara.

  ‘I will leave you to your social duties, my lord,’ she called after him.

  By the time she had finished curtsying he was out of sight. The girls looked at one another. Hali’s eyes almost welling over.

  ‘Let’s go,’ she said, hiding her red wrist behind her back.

  Aldara danced with five guests, forgetting their names almost immediately. As she spun and turned around these strangers, Tyron would occasionally flash into view, intense eyes always watching. By the fifth dance she felt dizzy and breathless. The song was long, and her feet struggled to keep up with the music. When it was over she thanked her partner and excused herself. She slipped through the messy crowd, searching for the door on the other side of them. She kept her eyes straight ahead, hoping no one would notice her exit, or remember the quarrel between the princes with the mute Companions standing next to them. Her powerlessness in that situation was a reminder of who she had become. Someone who could not speak up at injustice or demand a man let go of a woman. Not any woman—her friend. As she neared the door, she made the mistake of looking back at the royal table where she locked eyes with Queen Eldoris, the last person she saw before slipping through the small gap in the door. The corridor was dark and cool. Two guards watched her as she gulped at the air. At some point she had stopped breathing. She moved away from the men, her pace quickening as the air returned to her lungs. She had intended to get some air for a moment and return to the banquet, but the closer she came to the Companions’ quarters, the faster her feet moved. Within minutes she could see the glow from the main room fireplace ahead of her. She was practically running then. She was almost there when someone grabbed her hand from behind and spun her around to face the other direction. Instinctively, she pulled her hand free.

  Tyron stood in front of her, breathless from his pursuit of her. ‘Why are you running from me?’

  Aldara placed a hand on her heaving chest to steady her heart. ‘I am not running from you, my lord.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘Forgive me.’

  He held out his hand to her. ‘Come with me,’ he said.

  She glanced at the open hand, twice the size of her own. When she reached out and placed her hand in his, it immediately closed around hers. He turned, leading her back down the corridor. She had no choice but to follow. She did not ask questions—it was not her place. They neared the great hall, and she felt relieved when they continued past it. They arrived at the main entrance of the castle, and he told her to wait there while he went to get a few things. She waited, shivering, beneath the curious gazes of the guards. The cold air was seeping through the door and taking all the warmth from her exposed skin. Tyron returned carrying thick cloaks lined with fur, gloves, and boots. She did not know whether to feel excited or terrified.

  ‘Wher
e are we going?’

  ‘Somewhere where we can breathe,’ he said, helping her into the cloak.

  The warmth from it was immediate. A childlike excitement rose within her as the doors opened in front of them. They stepped through them into the frosty darkness. Tyron took her hand again, and they broke into a run. The snowfall had stopped, but there was a thick covering on the ground. Whenever she stumbled he simply pulled her upright without needing to slow his pace. They did not stop until they were inside the softly lit stables. It was still and quiet. Tyron managed to find a surprised and sleepy groom, who ran off to saddle two horses for them. He offered to fetch them an escort, which Tyron refused. He turned to help Aldara into the saddle, but she had already mounted and was tucking her cloak around her legs for extra warmth. Her hair had started to come loose after their run. She looked at him, her face beaming.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘So many questions.’

  ‘One question, repeated.’

  He smiled to himself. ‘There is no agenda. I thought we could just ride for a while.’

  They rode to the portcullis, and as it lifted in front of them, Aldara remembered her brother’s face, blocked on the other side. It was her first time outside of the walls since her arrival. Tyron led them off the main road and into the tall pines. They padded through the snow, which was knee deep on the horses at times. The moonlight was blocked by clouds, so they had to trust the vision of the horses over their own.

  ‘You are very trusting letting me lead you through a dark forest,’ Tyron said, breaking the silence.

  Aldara grinned. ‘I would wager you know every inch of this forest, my lord. You would have played here with your brothers when you were young, before transitioning to hunting?’

  ‘I barely remember. Sometimes it feels as though I skipped childhood.’ They came upon a path that widened. ‘That was lucky,’ he said, turning onto it.

  Aldara rode up next to him. She could see the faint glow of his teeth through his smile. The smell of the woods reminded her of home. Memories flooded her as she inhaled.

  ‘About earlier…’ he began.

  ‘There is nothing for you to explain,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Please do not feel you have to say another word about it.’

  Tyron was silent for a moment. ‘You were a gift from him I did not want.’

  She laughed. ‘Definitely do not say another word about it.’

  It had been a long time since he had heard her laugh. He felt as though he had just stepped into warm water. His horse moved closer to hers.

  ‘I was going to say my feelings had changed, but I will skip that part now.’

  Aldara smiled. ‘Fedora sees me as a complete disappointment despite her best efforts to bring me up to the standard of the other Companions. There is not much you could say that would surprise me.’

  ‘Is this more of your modesty?’

  She laughed again. ‘I invite you to come by the Companions’ quarters and see my paintings sometime. You will see I am simply stating the facts.’

  He really could not look away from her when she laughed. ‘You can’t paint or dance. What can you do? Shall we have you sing at the next gathering?’

  She glanced across at his playful eyes, sparkling away in the dark. ‘It would be an effective way to get rid of unwanted guests.’

  The horses remained side by side, their strides in unison. Tyron loosened the reins so his horse could relax its head. He looked across at her, and she deliberately pulled her horse to the left, causing them to collide. He barely moved in his saddle.

  ‘Ah,’ he said, a smirk on his face. ‘I used to play this game with my brothers when we were children.’

  ‘I guess you didn’t erase all of your childhood memories,’ she said, smiling. ‘I used to play this game with my brother also, but it was not that long ago.’

  ‘And did he ever succeed in knocking you from the saddle?’

  ‘Only once he grew bored. He would give up and shove me by hand. The last time we played I was on the ground with the wind completely knocked out of me. I could not move for the longest time.’

  ‘I bet he felt rather bad then.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. He took my horse and went home. He thought he was hilarious. Father not so much.’

  Tyron was a little taken aback. ‘If I had done that to my sister she would have poisoned me in my sleep.’

  ‘Kadmus is not a graceful loser,’ she said, remembering how furious she had been.

  She went silent again. After a few minutes Tyron pulled his horse to the right, but Aldara was ahead of the game and stopped her horse before he could make contact. Again he smiled.

  ‘What village are you from?’

  She closed the gap between them. ‘Roysten, my lord.’

  He thought for a moment. ‘Ah, sheep?’

  ‘Yes, and a few other animals for our own use. And barley when the weather is kind,’ she added.

  ‘Sounds prosperous.’

  She glanced across at him. ‘Not prosperous enough to prevent my mother from selling me. But there is a chance we were secretly rich and my mother simply invented an excuse to be rid of me.’

  Tyron did not laugh, so she said nothing more on the subject. They listened to the haunting sound of a boreal owl.

  ‘Can you read now?’ Tyron asked suddenly. ‘I imagine Fedora has you writing also.’

  Aldara nodded. ‘Yes, my lord. I was fortunate enough to have both skills prior to my arrival at Archdale.’

  It was the one thing she could thank her mother for. Dahlia had insisted both children learn from a young age. Isadore had called it a waste of time. Farmers did not need a different skill set. Dahlia had ignored him. She had different plans. Coincidentally, it had since become common for farmers to have written agreements for large sales at the market. Aldara had eventually realised her father’s objections stemmed from the fact he had never been taught and was too proud to admit it.

  Aldara began to shiver, and Tyron noticed.

  ‘Let’s go back,’ he said, turning his horse.

  She reluctantly turned her horse also.

  ‘Pandarus’s new Companion,’ he began. ‘Are you two close?’

  ‘Hali and I left our families on the same day. We arrived together. We have learned everything together, made mistakes together. Yes, I would say we are close.’

  He had never imagined friendships between the women before. ‘I have always assumed the women had a more competitive existence.’

  ‘There is a little of that. Survival instincts are stronger than most friendships.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Hali left behind more siblings than I could count that day. I was fortunate enough to meet her before we became something else. She wanted to come to Archdale as Pandarus’s Companion, but she still needs family.’

  ‘So you have become her sister?’

  ‘I suppose I have in a sense.’

  He looked at her. ‘And what has Pandarus become? We agreed to honesty,’ he reminded her.

  She was silent for a moment. ‘Hali understands her place in his life. She is aware of her own disposability. All the Companions know they are replaceable.’

  His eyes remained on her. ‘I suppose they understand that emotions are pointless in their positions. The tradition has survived because of its simplistic nature.’

  She could see he was trying to gauge her position on the subject. ‘It’s just a shame tradition disregards the welfare of these women once they are used up.’ Her reply was too quick, not thought through.

  He observed her for a moment. ‘I am of the understanding the women move on to respectful positions and are taken care of.’

  ‘They are sold on,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Yes, they are educated and therefore of value. An asset that is theirs to keep for life.’

  She shook her head. ‘I am curious as to what sort of life you imagine them having, with only their knowledge for company?’

  Tyron was enjoy
ing the fact she had forgotten herself. Her well-rehearsed manners were melting under the heat of the conversation. ‘One day Pandarus will be king and the women will have much bigger worries.’

  She looked away then. ‘And what kind of king do you imagine him to be?’

  ‘Probably the kind of king you imagine him to be. Quite like my father, except that he will not fight or show any compassion towards the poor.’

  She smiled. ‘Given a large portion of the kingdom is poor, he will find ruling almost unbearable.’ She could see him smiling also. ‘And what of the Prince of Mercy? What sort of king would you be?’

  He glanced across at her, confused. ‘Prince of Mercy?’

  ‘Yes. That is what they call you all around the kingdom. You did not know?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. It seems you are educating me on many things tonight.’

  That comment worried her. ‘I hope this evening is not some sort of test, because I have most certainly failed.’

  He looked away. ‘I won’t tell Fedora if you don’t.’

  ‘I am more concerned with you sharing the details of our conversation with Pandarus. He will have me hanged in the courtyard.’ She kept her eyes ahead.

  ‘It’s a risk I am prepared to take in my effort to remain honest.’ They had arrived at the stables, and he wondered if she would have laughed if they had still been among the pines.

  They dismounted. Aldara insisted on unsaddling her own horse while the confused groom stood awkwardly nearby. She then spent a few moments saying goodbye to the mare before the horse was finally led away. Tyron watched her the entire time.

  ‘Perhaps you need a pet,’ he suggested.

  ‘I already have Hali,’ she replied. Tyron laughed. Laughed. She could see the entire brilliance of his teeth.