Knight of Thieves

Chapter 14

William Orsino was certain this was going to be the greatest year of his life. Sure, Cyrans attacked the castle in hopes of killing him, but that paled in comparison to the joy and excitement he felt at the prospect of spending even a few minutes with Emberly Dern.

He found himself staring at her often during training, impressed by her determination and skill. She put all of herself into her blows, seeing each training exercise as the grand potential it truly held. She was preparing for war, treating each task given to them as a stepping stone to winning the war.

She was strong and had unparalleled determination. And, on top of all of that, she treated everyone she talked to with kindness and respect. Will reached the way she protected the boy, Danvon, as though he were someone she had known for years. And she was constantly listening to the advice of her servant, Kyra. She treated Kyra as the sister she never had instead of the servant girl of a lowly stature she truly was.

Emberly Dern was magnificent and Will lived for the moments he could be with her.

“Why are you staring at Dern?” called a voice. Will crashed back to earth. He was supposed to be going through training exercises with James. His friend looked at him expectantly with a small flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “His technique is sloppy and subpar.”

“Just lost in thought,” Will said, forcing himself to turn back to James, who, with a dismissive shrug, held up his training knife, taking on a defensive stance. With a deep breath, Will raised his own knife, stepping forward to attack James. James, stronger than him, quickly pushed Will back, using his arm to take the brunt of the force instead of the knife like one would in a sword fight.

Will knew there was a lot to learn from James. He was more adept at the physical side of training than Will was, especially when it came to knives. While Will could fight anyone with a sword and possibly win, James could fight anyone with any weapon and return victorious. Will had not hoped to beat James, not really. He was slower than James.

This was one of the reasons Sir Wylan discouraged Will from entering knight training. As it happened, Will was supposed to be in his fourth year of knight training. Unfortunately, two years ago, he could not begin his training on time because he became severely ill. He was bedridden for months and Will genuinely believed he was going to die. He survived, but he could feel the repercussions of the disease. He was slower than he was supposed to be. He tired easily and there was a deep ache in his bones, especially when it rained. He pushed through the aches and pains, but Will knew he would never be strong enough to match his best friend.

“Are you going to train with us tonight?” Will asked conversationally. James rolled his eyes. James never participated in the squires’ excessive training schedules and only Will knew why. While most of the second years assumed James thought highly of himself and would not lower himself to work with them, Will knew the undeniable truth. James trained with actual knights.

James Heczah had three older brothers, the oldest of whom was sixteen years older than James himself. Perhaps this was why James was so close to his sister, Olivia, who was only a year younger than him. He was much younger in age than his older siblings, causing him to draw closer to Olivia. (This was also why, in Will’s opinion, he was so protective of his younger sister.)

Peter, James’ oldest sibling, began teaching James all he knew about fighting after he returned from the war. He poured hours into James’ life, teaching him to be prepared for whatever war would throw his way. James never had a chance to decide whether or not he wanted this training. No, he gave the kind of individualized, focused attention most squires yearned for. James could not squander this.

Because of his daily training as a child, James was far more advanced than the others in their year, much like how Emberly was in regards to languages. Consequently, he was forced to seek alternatives, something that could challenge him.

Simon Heczah, who was only ten years older than James, completed his years of service two years prior. Having barely survived the war with his life, he was now resting in Central, giving aid and advice to the king in regards to the war. Seeing his brother’s need to fight someone of a higher caliber, Simon voluntarily undertook the task, challenging his brother to be better. Simon forced James to rise early for his extra training and coaxed him into extra training before curfew every night. Even his weekends were disrupted by Simon’s rigorous training.

“You know I can’t,” James said. “Simon’s teaching me about battle axes next. Apparently, I’ve been boring him with the longbow.”

“You could always take a night off,” suggested Will, not for the first time. James just shook his head. And while he never said, Will knew James wished he did not have to sacrifice friendships with the other squires in pursuit of being the best.

“Enough!” barked Sir Wylan. “You’re all pitiful! Go have your dinner and as you eat it, you think of all the Cyrans who are going to kill you because you are a failure to Etrusca!”

“I think his insults are getting longer,” James said as they put the knives away.

“I think he’s just running out of new ones,” Emberly interjected.

As they walked back to the castle, Will’s stomach grumbling as they went, noticed Arran shuffling his feet, his face set on the ground. He was disengaged from the conversation, a walking remembrance of who he had been the previous year. All of his confidence faded away, leaving him here like this.

With concern filling him, Will specifically sat beside Arran during that night, determined to discern what was going on with him.

Truth be told, Will was not terribly close to Arran. Sure, they were friends. But Will was not friends with Arran the way he was with James. At first, he simply accepted Arran after he became friends with Emberly but nothing ever grew past that. They were friends, but they were not close, not the kind of friends to seek one another out.

But Will adored Emberly. And if he wanted this to work with her, it was about time he started putting in a little more effort.

“You have dish duty tonight, Arran?” Will asked as Emberly turned to speak to Frederick Davidson and George Owell.

“I think so,” Arran said. “I’m really not sure anymore. I just assume I always do.”

“You could start being on time for things,” advised James. “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about it.” Arran shrugged in response, his shoulders slumped a little.

“It’s not so bad,” returned Arran. “I kind of find it cathartic now.” If it isn’t the dishes, thought Will, then what’s bothering him?

“Arran, are you alright?” Will decided to ask, getting to the heart of the issue. Will glanced at James, who, with a roll of his eyes, jumped into the conversation Emerly was having with Davidson and Owell. Arran, in turn, looked at Will curiously.

“It’s not really something you can help with.”

“Try me,” coaxed Will.

“Alright. I’ve just been trying to figure out what to do about Kyra, Emberly Dern’s servant, the one we talked to at Bandello’s last week.” Girl trouble? Well, Arran definitely chose the right person to talk to. After all, he was able to get Emberly. Surely, he knew everything about women.

“You like her?” said Will. Arran ran his fingers through his red hair, glancing around the table to ensure no one was listening to their conversation.

“A lot, as it turns out,” said Arran.

“Then why don’t you just write to her?”

“It’s not that simple,” Arran returned. “She’s a servant.” Will understood Arran’s problem. Kyra was essentially nothing right now. She was a servant. Arran had to be with a woman of noble birth. Perhaps it was his intoxicating newfound happiness with Emberly, or maybe he really just wanted to see Arran Anson happy too, whatever it was, Will replied in a way he never would have before.

“It’s not like you’re marrying her. You’re young and she’s pretty. You should write to her.”

“Right, I mean I also considered that. It’s just that servants don’t know how to read.” She was reading a book at the tavern the other day. Did Arran not notice that?

“Oh, well, if that’s what’s bothering you, I assure you Kyra knows how to read. She reads Emberly’s letters to me before she hands them over. Sometimes in front of me.”

“What?”

“She quotes my letters to me sometimes so that she can mock me relentlessly. Trust me, she can read.”

“Emberly doesn’t have a problem with that?”

“Nope,” Will replied with a sigh. “She claims all servants who can read go through their employers’ mail, as though that’ll make me feel better. Besides, she lets Kyra read them anyway. The girl is basically a sister to Emberly. I can’t get angry about that.”

“I see. In that case, I’ll write to her now before I leave for dishes.” Arran motioned for one of the servants, quickly requesting some parchment and a writing implement. Arran spent the rest of dinner pouring himself into the letter, asking Will for his help throughout the whole thing. Then, finally satisfied, he handed Will the letter, who promised to deliver it while Arran washed the dishes.

Now, Arran did not anticipate the future king would deliver the letter himself to a servant. But Will did. With a light-hearted excitement in his step, Will walked with determination to Emberly’s room, knocking carefully on the door.

“She’s not here,” said Kyra upon opening the door. She was dressed in men’s clothing, not appearing to be the woman he knew she was.

“I know,” answered Will. “I’ve come to see you.” Kyra folded her arms, summing a defensive stance.

“Why?”

“You do realize I’m the future king, right? You really shouldn’t talk to me that way.”

“You are just a person like everyone else. And if you have me executed for speaking honestly to you, you should never have become the king in the first place. Now, what do you want?”

Finding he could not argue with her, Will handed the letter to her. Petulantly, she took it and opened it. Her brow furrowed as she read the words written there. Finally, her features softened, taking in exactly what Arran meant.

“You can go now,” she said to Will when she finished pursuing the letter. Will did not understand her. Why wasn’t she more pleased about all of this? He expected her to be ecstatic at the prospect of being with a man of Arran’s stature.

“Aren’t you going to respond to him?”

“I can’t see how it’s any of your business.” Will nodded, gave a polite head-bow and left. Kyra truly was her own person. Certainly, she would respond to Arran in her own time and in her own way. Will walked away, proud he had chosen to help Kyra and Arran.

He did not breathe a word of this to Emberly, deciding she would be pleasantly surprised by it all later.

“You staring again,” a voice said to Will the following day during Lady Elizabeth’s rather boring class on the Cyran language. “Why are you always staring at Kyler Dern these days?”

“We’re supposed to be practicing Cyran,” snapped Will.

“Fine. Vos glotzen snova,” James murmured in Cyran. One day, Will was good to have to find a good reason as to why he kept staring at Emblery when she was supposed to be Kyler. He just really could not help himself. He should have volunteered to partner with her for this project.

“I’m not staring,” protested Will, lowering his voice so that Lady Elizabeth would not know he was speaking in Etruscan instead of Cyran. “I just got distracted.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” returned James. He glanced past Will to look at Emberly. Right now, she was helping Arran with his pronunciation of his words. Will knew Lady Elizabeth was going to start Emberly in the language of Kentre soon, a language Will knew to be close to the Malidorian she had been studying.

“Pochemu vos yego ihm?” Will inquired suddenly, taking James aback. He was surprised by Will’s words. Typically, Will tried to stay out of other people’s business. But here he was demanding to know why James hated Kyler Dern.

“Your pronunciation needs work,” informed James. “And it really has nothing to do with you, Will.”

“You are both my druz’ya,” countered Will. “I just want you to get along.”

“I don’t think that’s possible. I don’t trust him. And I don’t think his intentions towards my sister are honorable.”

Will believed he understood, even if only in part. James had always wanted Olivia to marry Will. He had cared for the girl as a friend, but Will had never really considered the girl. And now? He knew that any possible future they could have had was decimated by the Dern family.

And, really, Will thought as he looked back at Emberly, he was just fine with that.