My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  Rosie cut her off with a smile, "That would explain why I thought it stunning."

  "You do have beautiful taste, though I'm afraid I'm a bit lagging in your curves," Anjali said lifting her chest for emphasis.

  "They're, um," the blush burned into a rash of shame at how Eldon spoke of her accents. "They're not too, I know they can be a bit..."

  Anjali reached over, her fingers landing upon Rosie's shoulder. With a bright smile, she whispered, "They're perfect for you." Maker's sake... Rosie grabbed onto Anjali's warm fingers touching her, the palm cupping over it and softly caressing up and down the skin.

  For a beat, the assassin's lips parted, a breath waffling through the breach before she smiled and turned away, "I imagine that's why every man here is chasing for your hand."

  Right. The betrothal her mother was forcing down her throat. "It is exhausting."

  "What? Dancing? Having men compliment you? Bring you...I assume they bring you gifts. Or is Ferelden against gifts?"

  "No," Rosie laughed, "we do gifts, but..." How could she explain it? Cailan didn't understand why his sister was so vehemently against this courting process. He found it easy, the charm almost never turned off. Even when he was laid up in bed sick with a stomach flu the damn man managed to seduce the healer sent to check on him. He was insatiable. But Rosie, the one that had to be wed, had to produce heirs...she'd rather forget the whole thing entirely.

  "I'm not very good at it," she admitted, feeling foolish.

  She expected Anjali to laugh at her, to tell her how easy it was, but the woman paused and shrugged a shoulder, "Are you certain? I'd have called you a pro from my angle."

  "That's--" Rosie's entire body burned bright pink, the blush taking over. She grabbed onto her cheeks, feeling the heat flaring off of them that she was inexpertly attempting to hide.

  "Perhaps," this strange woman turned from her stance against the wall and slowly drew her finger from the top of Rosamund's shoulder down her arm with only the pinkie. It followed the dip and swell of Rosie's muscle as Anjali whispered, "you need to practice more."

  "Your Majesty!"

  Rosie practically leapt out of her shoes at the voices echoing above the party. Turning away and trying to shake off the guilt, she left Anjali to tumble back against the wall. Even as she faced not the advisors coming to tell her off, or even a band of young men about to demand she marry them on the spot, Rosie couldn't bury her heart beating its fists against her chest. It wanted freedom.

  Clattering up beside her ran her handmaidens, Tess being the one to call out for her. When she got closer, she laughed in a drunken stupor, "Rosie, did you...did you see that...?"

  "Whoa," Rosamund quickly slipped a hand over her friend's shoulders to keep her steady, "slow down, Tess. We have all night."

  "We do?" Tess glanced back at the others, then raised her hands in the air to shout, "Whoopee!"

  "Come on," Nelly grabbed onto Rosie's fingers, pulling her with, "we've got a game going. You have to join in."

  All the girls stared at their princess who was unable to refuse. She smiled, nodding her head in agreement, and they swarmed around her like a protective bubble. But as Rosie stepped away, she turned her head back to spot Anjali staring ahead at the dance. She didn't seem upset, but her neutral face looked forced on instead of easy.

  "Thank you," Rosie called, causing the woman to blink in surprise and glance over, "for your advice. It helped greatly."

  Anjali snickered, "I assumed as such, or else this is the most laid back invasion I've ever been a part of."

  Laughing along at the assassin's joke, Rosie dashed away with her friends. Forget men, forget politics, she had a pile of buttons to win in a card game. If only she could forget the way her heart skipped when a woman's dainty fingers curled against her arm.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Helpless

  This was all new to Gavin. Rather than being placed around the outer ring of the hall, the squires were all seated more or less together. He sat beside Snowy, who was scurrying away half as many rolls as he ate, and a ginger woman who came from Highever. For a time she spoke to Gavin in an animated voice, waving her hands about like she was conducting a symphony. But as the dinner wore on, she began to talk over Gavin to Snowy who was quick to say things that would get her to laugh. Somewhere further ahead ate Cal, the boy clearly recognized as warranting a higher seat beyond 'random squire number 5.' That was all the better for Gavin, who preferred the freedom away from the posturing.

  When the mass of people all rose, he moved to circle back towards Anjali, but Snowy grabbed onto his arm and pulled him towards the appearing dance floor. "What are ya doing?"

  "Work..." he tried to point towards the assassin who seemed to be eating in solitude, the woman now reclining against the back wall.

  "No, no, no, we're somewhere new. Shiny. Where we've never been," Snowy raised up his eyebrows and tried to undulate them. Fully lost, Gavin blinked slowly a moment, then moved to slot into place to guard the assassin. "The girls here have never seen our like before," the dwarf continued, dragging the unresponsive human onward. Despite being so short, Snowy had strength in his arms that could shake a druffalo by the horns.

  "And we ain't never seen their like neither, nor will we have to when we need to leave," he let up on his grip to Gavin and slapped both hands into his thighs. "Get it?"

  "Not particularly, no," the boy admitted, causing the dwarf to smear his hands over his face.

  "For the love of the..." Snowy cursed, trying to yank his beard off with both hands, when two women approached from both sides. He dropped his hands and the grimace, sliding into an easy smile to tip his head to them. "Ladies."

  Both women ignored the dwarf, their eyes glittering as they honed in on something behind Gavin. He turned, expecting to find Cal lurking beside him, but there was nothing save a gap that led to the high table. Whipping back around, he nearly collided his chin with the first woman. She gasped, her eyelids dotted in silver powder blinking madly before she smiled.

  "Maker's breath, your eyes are captivating," her voice rose up higher and softer, Gavin having to strain to make it out.

  "I'm sorry," he shook his head, the music easily stampeding out whatever she meant to say. "I didn't catch that."

  "I said your eyes are..." the woman began to shout, before drifting back to her feet and turning to her friend. Should he bend closer? The girls came to somewhere under Gavin's chin, making him feel even more awkward than usual. What if he stepped on one? Was that a serious blight against a person's family? Stepping on someone? Maker, this shouldn't be so hard.

  Somehow another two girls slid into place beside the first ones, Gavin feeling like the single piece of corn about to be pecked to death by a flock. He tried to step closer to Snowy for backup, but the dwarf was eyeing up a blonde woman in a blue dress. She kept politely responding to Snowy, but she was staring right over at Gavin, her eyelashes flickering. Did she have something in her eye?

  "What's your name?" a voice suddenly sprouted beside Gavin's ear. He sprung out of his shoes and twisted to beat it away.

  "What?!" he cried, managing to keep his hands to himself as he realized it was a fifth woman. Were they replicating behind him?

  "Your name," she said, her voice growing more strained, "you must have one."

  "I'm, um...uh," his fumbling was rescued by the dwarf who spoke up.

  "I'm Snowy, and the tall, dark, silent one is Gavin." Blessed Andraste, did he have to describe him thus? Famished eyes stared deep into Gavin's soul, the women barely hiding their stare down his body. "We're squires," the dwarf tacked on with a laugh before returning to his blonde in blue.

  "Oh, squires," the one behind Gavin pressed. She must be the leader, all the other girls following her cues. Like Cal but in a dress. Somehow the thought both disquieted him and brought a snicker to his lips.

  "You know," a hand cupped against Gavin's bicep, fingers digging in to pinch, "I've heard a squire has to be
rather athletic and that they are renowned for their...stamina."

  "Names!" Gavin blurted, throwing his shoulders up in formation. It was enough to cause the woman's hands to tumble off. "What are your names?" He tried to calm down his thrumming voice, his head whipping wildly at the women.

  "I'm Trin," a shorter brunette with a spray of purple in her hair stuck out her hand. That Gavin could understand, and he happily took her fingers for a hearty shake. But the one on his shoulder pursed her lips. She was like an acidic parrot about to bite off someone's finger should they draw too close.

  While Trin faded back at the sneer, the parrot smiled, "My name is Lady Solona."

  "What?" Gavin's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, his eyes trying to dart back to this woman that had a few years on him.

  "Ah, I'm Solona too," another spoke up, "though most people call me Sol." Her voice died down at the parrot's glare, "There are a lot of Solona's around, so..."

  The Lady Solona snickered, "Indeed, so very many you'd think it a common name. A shame that many have despoiled it over the years."

  Whatever pecking order the nobility were having was lost on Gavin as his eyes kept darting from one Solona to another. How many more were drifting through the throngs? How many could he run into? He didn't need to ask to know who they were named for. Hero of Ferelden, saved them all. A beacon of light they all held up as the great warrior of the country who was blessed with a foreign and exotic name. A woman that also happened to be his mother. She was somehow behind their creation, either by saving their parents or just in ending the blight. A hero Gavin couldn't possibly ever hope to duplicate, who he sometimes remembered as the warm lap that'd drop the book lower to show him and do silly voices.

  His vague panic at having to be in a social situation flared to dragon spotted in the sky levels. Gavin wrapped a hand around his forearm, digging his nails in as a distraction while the women all tried to get him to open up. It would be easier to excavate the long lost Temple of Sacred Ashes.

  "So, Gavin, are you from around here? You look familiar."

  "No."

  "Oh. Then, Denerim?"

  "No."

  "The south?"

  "No."

  "Maker's breath, I'm going to be guessing all day," the first Solona (except not the first one really) slapped a hand into her thigh.

  Snowy slid over from the woman who was giving him more than the time of day, "He can't really talk about it much because, well...look at him."

  "I am," Trin mused, a hand cupped under her chin. The look was so blatant Gavin swallowed hard, his throat bobbing with the move.

  "See that chin," Snowy reached up to grab onto Gavin's jawline, twisting the man's head back and forth. He wanted to slap the dwarf's hands away but Gavin was still frozen in place. "Doesn't it look a bit...familiar?"

  Sweet Maker!

  Gavin cracked up fast, wiping his fingers up and down across Snowy's hand. "He's kidding. There's no one I look like. Except myself. I try to look like him when I can, I mean..." He darted his eyes over at the dwarf, feeling a sneer rising on his lips at the roommate bringing up his father, when Gavin froze. The sneer was the worst of them all.

  Trying for a goofy smile instead, Gavin wiped a hand over the back of his neck and mumbled something about donkeys. It was the first thing to come to his mind, and caused all the girls to glare murder at him.

  "You're kinda weird, aren't you?" the second Solona said, her nose lifting higher.

  "Not really," Gavin sputtered out. "At least, I don't try to be. Or want to be, it just..." Happens. It always happens. He doesn't know how to do any of this. Being charming on command, talking to people he's never met. But they want him to be suave and debonair. To whisper one line and then they'd...something. The damn dwarf kept nudging him in the ribs with his elbow as if Gavin could flip a switch and become the dark, mysterious stranger.

  "So..." Trin was trying to pick back up the conversation that lagged from Gavin's sweaty palms slicking down his pants. "I see they got the dancing going."

  "In Nevarra, there's a special holiday where they open up the tombs and let their dead dance through the streets," Gavin sputtered out the first fact to come to mind. Well coiffed heads twisted to him, eyes narrowing at that, "It...it's a way for them to connect with their ancestors. Or so I read, um..."

  Trying to wick away the idiocy nesting in his ears like swallows, he lifted his chin higher and turned to follow the dancing. Cal had rounded up a girl, the two of them parading about in some highly skilled steps Gavin couldn't hope to copy. A few of the others were following as well. Spinning on the outskirts was the princess. Should he be trying to guard her now? She seemed to have the dancing part well in hand.

  Everyone was having a great time, except for Gavin. Dancing was supposed to be fun, right? All he saw was hands slapping into his face, and legs kicking into his gut because he was too uncoordinated to move when he was meant to. No one ever bothered to teach him the steps everyone else knew by heart. No one thought it important. Even he thought the social aspect of being a knight would be minimal. Barely a month in and he'd already been forced to attend two parties. Great guess as always, Gavin.

  A loud shout of joy echoed above the thin music and Gavin turned to find Myra leaping about with a great grin on her face. She wasn't following the constrained moves of everyone else, but was twisting to match her own beat. At first, she swung on the arms of her friend Bryn. The two of them kept planting their feet, then swinging the other to try and get them airborne. It was sort of working.

  Suddenly, Myra froze, swiped her hands back over her face, then dropped into a full on run. Her feet pounded against the ground, the beat matching the bass, when the girl coiled up her thighs and leapt into the air. Pinwheeling forward, she cartwheeled twice through the gap, moving so fast her skirts didn't have a chance to think of getting in the way. At the edge of the dancers, Myra landed upon both hands and then sprung fully up into the air. Like a cat, she landed perfectly balanced, a great smile stretching her cheeks flushed with the exertion and accomplishment.

  Applause broke through the crowd at the girl that provided an acrobatic display and she bowed deeply to her public. Gavin moved to join in, a smile tugging hard on his cheeks from her spectacle, when a boy slid up beside Myra. He barely exchanged two words before they joined hands and lopped off around the dance floor. His guts rolled at the sight of her glistening from joy and exercise, a true smile raising her freckled cheeks, as she spun about in the arms of a random man from Highever.

  "Well," the first Solona snorted, "it's amazing what one can get away with with the right father."

  "I don't think he's why she can move like that," Gavin commented. He meant it as truth, having been told more stories of King Alistair's antics than witnessed, but the girls around him all scoffed and leaned away as if he released gas. Oh Maker, he didn't do that too, did he?

  "My lord...squire," Solona seemed to have fully forgotten his name, or didn't think him worthy to speak it. "If you will excuse me, I believe I see a friend calling for my attention." Without a by your leave, the woman slipped away into the crowd but he could feel her eyes slicing him up. Having lost the leader, the group shattered apart, each girl vanishing save the blonde in blue that was enthralled with Snowy.

  Gavin wasn't sad to see them go, but he felt foolish standing alone on a dance floor. In his mind he knew that wasn't how the exchange was meant to end, but he didn't know what the right answer was either. Always happy to provide it, his roommate slid over and whispered, "That was...interesting to watch."

  "I'm not surprised," he crashed his chin to his chest, the shirt pinching tighter around the midsection than he remembered.

  "There, there," Snowy patted against the arm, "you just...you tend to lead with your mouth, huh? They don't want that."

  "What?" he was confused. Wasn't that supposed to be how those interactions worked? You speak, get to know one another, form a bond.

  "They just want the myst
erious stranger who's fine to look at to sweep them off their feet. Talking's optional when you look like...you."

  That made Gavin shift deeper into himself. "Oh," was all he could muster, his cheeks burning in shame.

  Snowy winced at the reaction and tried to put on a smile, "Next time, just ask them to dance and let them do all the talking. You'll do fine." The dwarf glanced over at the blonde who was pressing her lips together. "And, if you'll excuse me..." Releasing his grip on Gavin, Snowy managed to wrap an arm around the back of the woman's waist.

  "Don't wait up," was the last thing Snowy called before fading into the dance.

  And then there was one.

  Gavin patted his limp fingers together, wishing just a single strike would drive some manner of brilliance into his mind. He could head back to the tent, early and alone, no doubt every squire watching as their confounding oddball hung his head towards the exit. There was attempting to speak with the locals, though most of them were either dancing, drunk, or attempting both. For a brief second his eyes flitted over to the assassin woman. She remained in her spot, but the princess stood beside her. They seemed to be speaking privately when Anjali turned from their royal highness and her eyes cut straight through to Gavin.

  He sneered, knowing full well that the assassin would somehow lord her special attention over him. She seemed to think he would care. All that mattered to him was keeping the princess safe, even if Rosamund seemed to be making it difficult with every choice. Letting an assassin wander freely through their ranks was dangerous. If anyone were to get hurt, it'd fall upon him. That was where he should be, even if his knight waved him off it. Even if all the other squires were free to imbibe to their heart's content. He belonged watching the assassin.

  "Hey," a pair of hands lashed out and grabbed around his wrist. The fingers tented together straining to reach as both arms tried to pull Gavin away. When he turned from Anjali he nearly bumped right into a sea of freckles. Myra blinked a moment, her eyes even greener by the yellow candlelight. "Fancy meeting you here," she laughed before glancing down and realizing she was holding him.