The Royal Companion

by Tanya Bird

  Aldara went to bathe. She added boiled water to the tub, climbed in, and slipped beneath the surface so she could free the mud from her hair. The water clouded around her, and she could hardly see through it. What she could see were Tyron’s hands tangled in her filthy hair, his fingers holding her head in place so the air she breathed came only from his lungs. She emerged to the surface of the water and found herself face to face with a girl she had never seen before. She gasped and pushed herself to the back of the tub. The girl stepped back.

  ‘I am so sorry,’ she said, trying not to smile. ‘You were under water for so long I thought you might have drowned.’

  She had a round, pretty face and fair hair cut above her shoulders. She was wrapped in a robe, her long legs visible. Aldara looked around for her own robe. It was well out of reach. She sank lower into the dirty water.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘My name is Sapphira. I arrived a few hours ago.’ An expression of recognition came over her face. ‘Oh, you are the girl from the tournament. I watched you race today. I watched you win.’ She stepped closer again. ‘You are the reason I am here.’

  Aldara leant forward. ‘What do you mean?’

  Before she could reply Fedora walked in, soundless as always.

  ‘Good, the two of you have been introduced.’ She stood between them. ‘Sapphira will spend time with you over the coming months. She will shadow you on chores and lessons. Prince Stamitos is eager for her to be available socially before the warm season ends.’

  Aldara looked at the young girl who now belonged to Stamitos.

  ‘Sapphira made quite an impression on the prince at the tournament today,’ Fedora added.

  ‘It must have been some impression,’ Aldara said. ‘How did the two of you meet?’

  Normally Fedora would have shut down such a conversation, but she stood waiting to hear the reply.

  ‘He watched me shoot,’ Sapphira said. ‘The lads were running a small contest in between the riders. It drew quite a crowd in the end. I had no idea Prince Stamitos was among the spectators when I split my own arrow.’

  Fedora was not impressed. ‘Archery?’

  Sapphira was oblivious to her disapproval. ‘Yes, my lady. The best in the kingdom, let me assure you. Better than any man. My father is an artillator in Veanor, one of the finest craftsmen in Syrasan. I was never one for toys as a child. I played with crossbows as soon as I had use of my hands.’

  Aldara lowered her head and smiled to the water.

  ‘Let us hope it is not your only skill,’ Fedora replied. ‘Your boyish tricks may have impressed the young prince, but they will not take you far inside these walls. The lords require ladies, not knights, so your archery will be about as useful as Aldara’s horsemanship.’ She walked over and checked the water jugs. ‘Aldara, find something suitable for Sapphira to wear, and then you can both help the ladies prepare for this evening’s feast.’

  Aldara stood up in the tub. ‘Tonight’s feast?’

  Fedora was already leaving. ‘Yes. You will not be attending.’

  ‘Did Tyron not request I attend?’

  That made Fedora stop and turn. Her expression was fierce. ‘That is Prince Tyron or His Lordship to you. Do not forget your place here. Your actions today have done you no favours. Perhaps he could not trust you to keep clean for the occasion, or perhaps the embarrassment to his entire family was too much for him.’

  She turned and left then. Aldara shook her head and sat back down in the water. It did not make sense to her. But then, she would not be the first naive girl to believe she was different, to imagine something more than fleeting lust. She winced at her own stupidity. How many more times would she find herself fooled by the ridiculous life she had been sold into? Every time she was forced to check herself, she found herself in the same tragic state.

  Not that long ago she had found contentment in shovelling snow from the castle paths, out in the cold where her thoughts were frozen and her hands hurt. She had been away from the beautiful women in their beautiful dresses, living their pretend lives that could be snatched away from them at any moment. But then the tired prince had returned on his tired gelding and melted the snow and stripped her of her tools. His weak smile had undone all of her work. Undone her. She had rejoined the beautiful women and put on a beautiful dress and pretended to be one of them. And now she would be forced to pick up the shovel yet again.

  Sapphira was still standing by the tub, holding onto her robe. ‘You captured the attention of an entire kingdom today,’ she said. ‘What is the attention of one man compared to that?’

  Aldara looked at her. She had a lot of confidence for someone so young.

  Sapphira stepped closer and whispered, ‘Today you showed everyone that Companions are not just pretty playthings for the princes. You showed women a way to be noticed that has nothing to do with sex. I want people to see what I can do—that’s why I’m here.’

  Aldara closed her eyes. She did not want to feel responsible in any way for the fate of this girl.

  ‘My father is ageing,’ Sapphira went on. ‘His hands shake. There will come a time soon when he’ll no longer be able to work. When Prince Stamitos made an offer to him, I said yes, before Father had a chance to say no. It was a lot of money. I could not have done it without seeing you race.’

  ‘I am afraid you have been misled,’ Aldara said, staring into the filthy water. ‘I doubt you will ever pick up a bow or arrow again.’

  Sapphira shook her head. ‘You’re wrong. It was my archery that caught the prince’s eye.’

  Aldara thought about this. It was probably true. He would have found her exciting. He would have thought they would run wild in the woods together and shoot deer. Youth did that to you, it made you stupid.

  ‘You caught the prince’s eye,’ she said. ‘And now you belong to him. There are rules and strict ways of conduct here. I broke them when I rode today. The other women, the real Companions, are not like me. You will be expected to conform, or you will become an outcast and requested by no one.’

  When she found the strength to look up, she expected to see a mirrored reflection of her own disappointment. Instead, Sapphira appeared sceptical.

  ‘I am not here to be like them. I am not beautiful like them. I am also not one for conforming. I think you will find Prince Stamitos chose me for different reasons.’

  Aldara had just wanted to save her mare, not start an uprising. But it was too late for both of them. They would have to find a way to exist that kept Fedora happy and their sanity intact.

  ‘You say you are from Veanor?’

  ‘Yes.’

  That explained her optimism. Veanor was on the coast and was the main port used for Galen trade. It was a wealthy village. People could afford to be optimistic about their futures.

  ‘Do you play the harp?’

  Sapphira raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘No.’

  ‘Dance?’

  She shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘Paint? Sing?’ Aldara continued.

  She crossed her arms and nodded. ‘Yes, I sing a little.’

  Aldara let out a tired breath. ‘Then you are already ahead of me. I can do none of those things.’

  Sapphira frowned at her. ‘Why on earth would you want to paint and sing when you ride as I imagine Epona to ride?’

  Aldara stood up, stepped out of the tub and retrieved her robe. ‘Who is Epona?’

  ‘Epona is the protector of horses. A goddess actually.’

  Aldara laughed. Her first thought was how amused Tyron would be by that story. His eyes would laugh even if he did not. He would wipe at the mud on her face and call her Epona with that smirk of his. A coldness came over her as she realised she could no longer afford those thoughts if she were to survive.

  ‘Come,’ she said. ‘I’ll introduce you to the true goddesses of Archdale.’

  Chapter 18

  She found a way to exist. There was no choice but to pretend it was enough and hop
e it would eventually become enough. She tried not to notice the days growing warmer, slipping past without a word from him. She tried to forget the sweet suffocation she had felt in his crushing grip. She tried to toughen herself against him in hope that if they met again, she could say, ‘Good day, my lord,’ and smile with warmth but feel nothing inside. She tried and pretended, but she was still suffocating against him.

  One morning, Fedora announced to the women there was to be a banquet in honour of their Galen guests. The men had arrived the previous day, sent to review all food trade agreements prior to the cold season. Zenas needed to know there would be enough grain to feed his people, and for that reason he wanted all the Companions to attend the banquet and keep the men in good spirits. The women were props to aid negotiations in any way they could. No one said as much, but everyone understood their role.

  ‘The Noble Companions are awfully quiet,’ Hali said. They were in the dressing room, and Aldara was fixing her hair.

  ‘For good reason,’ Aldara replied.

  She was already dressed in a sleeveless, orange silk dress with a belt of pearls. Her own hair was loosely tucked to one side and wrapped with black silk.

  Hali was watching her in the mirror.

  ‘Are you afraid?’

  Aldara looked at her. ‘Of what?’

  ‘Being sent to their chambers.’

  She had been trying not to think about that possibility, but now that it had been said aloud she could not hide from it.

  ‘There’s no point being afraid is there? I have no control over it.’

  Hali appeared sympathetic. ‘The only reason I bring it up at all is because there are four guests and three Noble Companions.’

  Aldara had already done the math. Her eyes did not return to the mirror. She was trying to keep it together. There was a small, naive part of her that insisted Tyron would not allow it. But there was also a bigger part of her that knew his kingdom came first and he would follow the wishes of his father. Her mind flashed back to the savage removal of Tia’s hand. The wood chopping block was stained with her blood.

  ‘You must be looking forward to socialising without Pandarus hovering over you for the evening,’ she said, changing the subject. Pandarus was in Zoelin for business, and Hali seemed to have more bounce than usual.

  ‘That’s an understatement,’ she whispered.

  Fedora slipped into the room at that moment, glancing about, checking the women. ‘All right, ladies, remember everything we went through today. Make sure our guests feel welcome. Off you go.’

  Aldara kept her eyes down as she passed Fedora, but she felt eyes on her back.

  The gathering was extravagant but civilised compared to previous celebrations Aldara had attended. Guests were seated at tables and talking at polite volumes. A lute played at the far side of a room, a song Aldara did not recognise. No one was dancing.

  She did a quick surveillance of the guests. She knew most of them. There was no sign of Lord Yuri, and one look at Hali’s face confirmed her suspicion. ‘Perhaps he is running late,’ she offered.

  Hali pretended not to understand. ‘Who?’

  Aldara smiled, her gaze moving about the room. She had already prepared herself for the fact Tyron would be in attendance, but when she saw him on the far side of the room, watching her, she guessed he did not know she would be. She curtsied from a distance and then turned away from him. That was etiquette ticked off—now she could go about avoiding him.

  ‘They don’t seem so bad,’ Hali said, eyeing the Galen guests. ‘I think I was imagining men with far too much access to food.’

  Aldara followed her line of vision back to where Tyron was seated just beneath the dais, with all four Galen guests. There would be no avoiding him now. Hali was right though, the men were rather handsome, and much younger than she had been imagining. That relaxed her slightly.

  ‘Let’s find the wine, and then we can introduce ourselves,’ Hali said.

  Aldara rarely drank much at social gatherings, but that night she was feeling an overwhelming desire to do so. ‘Good plan,’ she said, glancing at Tyron, who was showing no sign of moving. As if the evening was not awkward enough from a distance, now she would have to include him in the conversation and smile at him all night.

  They found some refreshments on an abandoned table. Aldara poured herself a cup of wine and emptied it in a few gulps. She picked up the jar and poured another.

  Hali looked at her. ‘What is happening here?’

  Aldara took a large gulp from her cup and set it down. ‘I’m just trying to survive the evening.’

  ‘Should I be worried about you?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she replied, picking up the cup and taking another mouthful. ‘Let’s go.’

  The guests broke into applause as Astra replaced the lute player across the room. Hali glanced at Aldara as they made their way over to the guests and rolled her eyes. When they arrived at the table, Tyron shifted in his chair. Aldara took another drink and then set the cup down on the table.

  ‘My lord,’ she said, curtsying alongside Hali. The women then turned to the Galen guests who were watching them curiously.

  Tyron stood up. ‘Allow me to introduce two of Archdale’s most beautiful residents,’ he said to the men. ‘This is Hali and Aldara.’

  All of the men were fluent in the Syrasan language, which was lucky for Aldara, who was not yet fluent in Galen. The men stood up and bowed.

  ‘Ladies,’ Tyron continued. ‘May I present Alcaeus, Caelius, Philo, and Lysander.’

  The women curtsied again.

  ‘How was your journey across the Arossi?’ Aldara asked. ‘I understand its waters are calm at this time of year.’

  ‘I am afraid we were not that lucky,’ replied Philo. ‘I was the only passenger who was not ill for most of it.’

  Aldara guessed Philo to be around the age of twenty. He was fair and tall, common traits of pure Galen bloodlines. ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ she said. ‘I imagine you are still finding your land legs.’

  Rhea and Panthea stepped into the conversation, pulling the attention of the men.

  ‘I think it’s time for some dancing,’ Rhea said, a purr in her tone.

  ‘If only we had willing partners,’ Panthea added, pretending to look about.

  ‘I believe that is our cue,’ Alcaeus said, turning to Lysander.

  ‘You do not have to ask me twice,’ Lysander replied.

  Rhea and Panthea led the two men into the middle of the room. Astra began a slow, traditional Galen song she had been practicing on the harp for over two weeks.

  ‘I don’t suppose I can tempt you to dance,’ Hali said to Philo.

  But his eyes were on Aldara. ‘I think I will get myself another drink, but Caelius is champing at the bit, aren’t you, old man?’

  They all laughed, even Tyron. The visit was too important not to laugh.

  ‘I will have to see if I can remember this one,’ he said, bowing to Hali.

  ‘I am happy to refresh your memory,’ she said, curtsying.

  Caelius led Hali out to join the others, leaving Philo, Tyron, and Aldara standing as spectators. Aldara picked up her cup and finished what was left. Both of the men noticed.

  ‘Can I get you another?’ Philo offered.

  Tyron seemed concerned. ‘Perhaps some water?’

  She looked at him as she placed her cup back down on the table. ‘I would love some more wine,’ she said, turning to Philo. ‘It is a banquet after all.’

  He picked the jar off the table and filled her cup. ‘This is actually Galen wine,’ he said, pride in his tone as though he had bottled it himself.

  Aldara took the cup from his hand. ‘Yes, I can taste the quality,’ she lied. ‘Produced in the South I believe, where growing conditions are ideal.’

  Fedora always ensured they had a few relevant and impressive facts on hand.

  ‘The lady knows her wine,’ Philo said to Tyron, smiling appreciatively.

 
‘She’s full of surprises,’ Tyron said, smiling back.

  Aldara took another drink. Just a little more and she could pretend the situation was not happening at all. Up went her cup, then on with the conversation. ‘What part of Galen are you from Philo?’

  They did not use titles such as lord in Galen as they did not want to segregate people.

  ‘I’m from Klovotor, on the coast. I have a substantial amount of land there. However, I am rarely there to make use of it.’

  ‘Perhaps you can try your hand at wine,’ Tyron said.

  Philo laughed, and Aldara emptied her cup.

  ‘Would you like to dance Philo of Klovotor?’ Aldara asked. The women had also been practicing Galen dances. She felt confident she could get through most of them without injuring herself.

  ‘An excellent suggestion. I believe we are now properly fuelled.’

  ‘I shall leave the two of you to enjoy the evening,’ Tyron said.

  He bowed with such grace that Aldara believed him to be sincere. That is until he turned to leave and his dark eyes burned in her direction. She remained tall and unblinking against them. The wine had given her courage. It had also given slight dizziness.

  They joined the others who were lined up facing each other in the middle of the hall. Astra had finished playing, swiftly replaced by three musicians with wind instruments. Aldara stood opposite Philo, heart pounding from the wine.

  ‘I should warn you I am not a strong dancer,’ she said.

  ‘I have been told I am rather good. If you will allow me, I will lead you.’

  Tyron drifted between conversations, discovering he could not focus on any of them. Aldara was swirling about in his peripheral vision, apparently enjoying herself. At one point he heard her laugh and looked over to find her smiling and flushed as she weaved between the other dancers. She was a little out of time with the others, but Philo did not seem to mind. He was besotted. His eyes remained on her through every partner change. Tyron gave up trying to talk and went to sit down. Cora sniffed out his vulnerability from across the room, and within moments, she was seated next to him, ready to narrate his thoughts.