by Tanya Bird
The Common Girl
Tanya Bird
Prologue
Tyron refused to join in. He stood with his back to the weak sun, watching Aldara concentrate. Small puffs of steam came from her mouth whenever she spoke or laughed, a reminder that the cold season lingered. He was about to suggest that she put her cloak back on but thought better of it. She had enough people telling her what to do. He tried to give her the freedom she craved in the small ways he could.
Sapphira had convinced Stamitos to teach her self-defence, and it had not been long before Aldara had asked Tyron to teach her also. He had said no.
‘I want to know how to protect myself,’ she had said, ‘in case the need arises.’
What she did not say was again. Instead, she had looked away.
His chest had constricted as he thought back to the night when two Zoelin men had done as they pleased with her. They had left her a bloody mess. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t even pretend to be violent with you.’
Her eyes had returned to him. ‘What if Stamitos taught both Sapphira and me?’
Now there they were, gathered in the abandoned butts, away from the disapproving stares that bore down from the castle windows. Stamitos was holding Aldara’s left wrist, while Tyron willed himself to stay still.
‘If you leave one mark on her, you will have a very different fight on your hands,’ he called to his brother.
Stamitos smiled at Aldara. ‘Block out everything else and focus on me,’ he said, loud enough for Tyron to hear. ‘Bend your other arm and put your elbow level with your shoulder. Now you are going to thrust your forearm directly into my throat.’ He pointed to the part of her arm that should make contact with him.
Aldara moved her arm towards his throat.
‘You need to step into it,’ Stamitos said, ‘so your body weight is behind it.’
She tried again, that time making contact. Tyron smiled to himself.
‘Sorry, did that hurt?’ Aldara asked, glancing at his throat.
‘No,’ Tyron answered for him. ‘He has let go of your wrist. Now thrust the same elbow straight into the centre of his chest.’
Aldara stepped in and pushed her elbow between his ribs. ‘Now what?’
‘Now your shin goes straight to his groin,’ Sapphira said, a smirk on her face.
Stamitos’s hands immediately covered his crotch. ‘No. That is what’s referred to as a dirty fight.’
Tyron stepped closer to Aldara. ‘And that is exactly what you will do if the need arises.’
‘I thought you did not want to be a part of it,’ Aldara said, eyes shining.
Tyron put his hands up. ‘Forget I am here.’
Aldara and Stamitos exchanged a glance.
‘What if someone goes for my throat?’ Aldara asked, the smile on her face fading. ‘Has me in a choke?’
Tyron blinked away the vision of her sitting in a tub of blood-tinged water that had long gone cold. He could still remember four rows of bruises down the right side of her neck, left by the hand of a Zoelin guest who he had never met and prayed he never would.
Sapphira stepped forwards and gently pushed Stamitos out of the way. ‘Choke me,’ she said to Aldara.
Aldara looked at her, unsure. Her eyes went to Stamitos, who nodded for her to go ahead. She stepped up to Sapphira and wrapped her hands around her throat, reminding herself to breathe through the memories the action evoked. Sapphira pulled Aldara’s arms over her shoulders so her hands slipped from her throat and she fell forwards into her. In the same motion, she brought her knee to Aldara’s stomach with just enough pressure so Aldara doubled over with the force.
Tyron stepped between them and pulled Aldara upright. ‘That’s enough for today.’ If Sapphira had been a man, he would have broken her nose.
‘It’s all right,’ Aldara said, slightly breathless. ‘I want to learn.’
If Tyron had his way, she would not need to learn, but he was acutely aware of the fact that he had been unable to protect her in the past.
‘Go back to the castle,’ Aldara said, her tone gentle. ‘I would really like to learn, and I cannot do that with you clutching your sword.’
Tyron glanced down to where his other hand was gripping the hilt of his weapon.
‘I promise we will be gentle, my lord,’ Sapphira said, pressing her lips together to stop from smiling.
He glanced at her, a hint of anger in his expression. ‘Next time you teach her the moves before you use them on her.’
‘That was a little savage,’ Stamitos said to Sapphira.
Sapphira jabbed her elbow into his ribs while Tyron looked between them all. He did actually trust them as far as Aldara’s well-being was concerned.
‘All right. But I meant what I said. Not one mark on her.’ He faced Aldara. ‘I’ll send Pero for you later.’
She curtsied, and Sapphira mirrored the action.
He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her face as she returned upright. He rarely touched her in the company of others. He was not entirely sure why. Perhaps he was afraid of what it gave away. He kept his hands at his side and glanced at Stamitos before turning and leaving them.
In the month since his return from the Zoelin border, he had felt like nothing but a burden on her. His inability to sleep, concentrate, or be mentally present would no doubt be taking a toll on her also. She insisted on staying with him through every nightmare and, every time his mind turned on him, talking to him until the air returned to his lungs. She would sit by his bed on the days that he could not leave it, stroking his hair while he lay trapped somewhere between conscious and dead. He had stopped trying to push her away; it only hurt her more, and he could not bear the idea of that.
As always, he felt himself improving as he found a place within him for the memories: a screaming woman covered in her dead husband’s blood, a small boy burned alive, the feel of a blade passing through Zoelin flesh. He began spending more time outdoors, where he could watch Aldara come to life for both of them, and then at night, they would return indoors so she could breathe life back into his tired lungs and heal him in ways she would never understand.
Each morning, his mother, the queen, would visit. She would pass Aldara in the doorway, saying nothing to her but always observing, no doubt trying to gauge if he was better or worse with his Companion at his side.
When Tyron reached the trees, he turned to watch Aldara again. She was nodding as she listened to what Stamitos was saying, and then she stepped forwards, arm striking out at him. Stamitos leapt back and she stumbled forwards. They all laughed then. Open-mouthed, unfiltered laughter, with no consideration as to who might hear them. He let the sound warm him. Stamitos had come to care for Aldara like a sister. The idea should have pleased him, but it was just another heart that would break when it all came to an end.
And then there was Sapphira. Stamitos had met his match in choosing her as his Companion. Fierce, funny. Complete disregard for the rules. Tyron had overheard some of their whispered conversations; they spoke of love without fear and made plans for a future that could never be.
More laughter reached him from across the lawn. Sapphira had taken Stamitos’s legs out from beneath him and he lay flat on his back, half laughing, half winded. Tyron wondered whether they would all remember this time. When they were finally forced to live the lives set out for them, would they recall the small moments they stole beforehand? Their futures had already been decided; all they could do was hold on for a while and pray they all survived the fallout.
‘Tyron,’ a voice came from behind him.
He turned to see Pandarus standing a few yards away. He rarely stood close anymore. ‘What is it?’
‘He is here.’ Pandarus looked past him, through the trees, towards the laughter. He shook his head. ‘Companions used to be a collection of the kingdom’s most refined and educated women. What happened?’
Tyron looked back at Aldara, who glanced in his direction. ‘Stamitos is educating them.’
‘I see that.’
Tyron faced Pandarus. ‘Where is he?’
‘The throne room.’
Tyron nodded. It was time to sit down and share their best wine with the man who had taken Syrasan women in the north and killed the men who stood in his way.
‘We can handle it if you would prefer,’ Pandarus said, seeing his hesitation.
Tyron walked alongside his brother. ‘I don’t trust you to handle it. I will be the one fighting when it all goes wrong, so I would prefer to be kept informed this time if it is all the same to you.’
Pandarus shook his head. ‘I heard you were feeling better, but you sound as though you need a lie-down.’
Tyron kept his eyes on the grass. The snow had stopped falling, but patches of ice remained in its place. ‘When you prove that you can manage relations with our neighbouring kingdoms, I will gladly opt for a lie-down.’
Pandarus said nothing as he looked about.
‘I suppose it is pointless to remind you that I remain against the trade agreement,’ Tyron said.
‘About as pointless as me reminding you that we have no choice but to honour it.’
Tyron shook his head slowly. ‘I will never understand why you signed it in the first place.’
‘You do not have to understand. You just need to support my decision, which is backed by your father and king.’
‘He was not left with much choice.’
‘Do not start. We need a united front in that room if we are to see the children returned. King Jayr is finely tuned to conflict. If he gets so much as a sniff of a doubt from any one of us, he will take action to protect his interests.’
Tyron watched his damp boots. ‘Yes, I have witnessed his logic firsthand.’
‘Then you understand what is at stake.’
Tyron nodded. ‘I understand.’
They walked in silence, with plenty of distance between them and their eyes ahead.
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Acknowledgments
I would like to express my gratitude to the many people who contributed to this book. What started as a pregnant dream, has now grown into a series.
My biggest thank you goes to my readers. Without readers I would not get to do what I love. Next, a big thank you to Saltwater Writers for your feedback and support each month. Thank you also to my editor, Stacey, and my proofreader at Empress Author Solutions for cleaning up the manuscript. Thanks to the very talented Ben Kawala for the gorgeous cover (and patience throughout the process). And finally, a huge thank you to my Launch Team for your encouragement, honest reviews and being the final set of eyes on my work.
This book is dedicated to my rockstar husband who supports and encourages me even though my writing takes time away from him.