Rosie's fingers drew back and forth through the slender drawer, when a creak erupted from outside the study's door. Both women looked up, their eyes honing in on the sound. Was it her imagination that a shadow passed under the door or...? Anjali snatched up Rosie's hand, trying to tug her somewhere to hide. About to move with her, Rosamund turned back and with a quick exhale expunged the candle she'd been using.
It wasn't much of a noise, but it broke apart the still air, as did the sound of a man clearing his throat just outside the door. Shit! Rosie whipped her head around, her mind tipping into a dizzy panic, when Anjali scampered silently into the back curtain dragging the crowned princess with. There was barely any room for one person to sit inside, the two women having to stand chest to chest. The curtains trembled from their mad dash, no doubt about to give away the fact they were hiding there.
Oh Maker. How much trouble would she get in with her dad? With her mom? With Avery clucking her to death? Rosie's eyes opened wider when the guard outside grunted again and the sound of the door squealing on its hinges broke the air. Anjali's hand slipped over her mouth, pushing in tight to try and stop any screams that might erupt from a tittering lady. Rosamund wished she could stare up at her, to assure her she wasn't about to bolt in panic, when Anjali's free hand wrapped around Rosie's waist. It helped to aid in their tight fit, the spines of various books jabbing into her backend and threatening to crash to the floor if she twitched.
But all Rosie could notice was that the move pulled even more of her chest, barely concealed below a thin nightie, against the confident assassin. Anjali's callus thrummed up against Rosie's lips, stinging awake the skin. She shut her eyes tight and dared to let her hand cup along Anjali's hips. For balance.
Out in the study they could both hear the guard walking around the Teyrn's work. He circled through the bookcases, opened and shut drawers. Oh no! The candle! What if he noticed smoke still curling off the wick? Rosie's eyes shot open and she wanted to explain her fear, but in doing so her fingers dug into Anjali's hip. That caught the assassin so off guard, her hand tipped backwards a bit, practically skirting over the princess' royal ass.
Oh that'd be even better. Caught locked in an embrace in the Teyrn's private study with another...assassin. No way to make it look good. Blood pounded in her temples, the makings of a migraine threatening to churn her stomach contents to pulp. Don't puke. There was no chance she could live down being caught due to the stress of fearing being caught.
"Humph," the guard snorted and without a care slid back out into the hallway. He made a loud slam of the study door, footsteps vanishing in its wake.
Even still, the two women clung to each other, breaths held out of fear he'd suddenly come running back to check one last time. As the blood drained from her throbbing temples and out of her about-to-scream throat, Rosie realized she yet had her hand cupping the woman's body. "Sorry," she mumbled against Anjali's palm, letting her grip slide off to the side.
The assassin tugged her hands away as well, heat retreating in her wake as she barely stuck her head out of the curtains. "Looks like the coast is clear."
"Thank the Maker," Rosie gasped as Anjali slipped out first. The princess placed a hand to her chest, trying to slow the crescendo of her heart. For the love of Andraste, the danger was over. Calm down. As she was gripping right across her breasts, Anjali turned back and, plain as the torchlight under the door and starlight out the window, her eyes darted to Rosamund's cleavage.
It was a brief moment, her hungry eyes quick to slip back to a more respectful shoulder, but something new and cocky in Rosie arouse. With a twist to her hip, she said, "The assassin is staring."
Anjali coughed a moment, her fingers digging into her eyes as if they had a lash fall into them. "I...I guess, ya caught me. It's hard not to when..." she gestured to the state of Rosie's robe which fell apart in their mad dash. Her nightgown cut to right at the top of her thighs, and was nowhere near thick enough to hide her dark pink nipples.
Maker's breath, she chastised herself for letting herself be so exposed in front of someone, when she paused in knotting back on the robe. She should feel shame for acting so...was she being wanton? It was only in the presence of another woman, that hardly counted.
"Do you...if you don't want me to look, I can stop," Anjali said, her full bodied voice as pure as Rosie had ever heard it. By the low light, she could only see the whites of the assassin's eyes which peered over at her.
"No," she shook her head, tugging the robe up tighter and cinching it for her return to her room, "I...it's no bother to me."
"Good," Anjali nodded her head, before those never shy eyes drew back down Rosie's form, "I'm glad."
"We should leave before anymore guards return," Rosamund said. This may have been a bust on details, but at least she knew she wasn't crazy. Something was going on, something the other Arls and Banns were up in arms about.
"Lead on, my Lady," Anjali waved a hand out, allowing Rosie to step in front of her. From behind the princess could feel the assassin's bold eyes caressing her posterior. It was silly. To think of a woman caring. To care that a woman cared. To want a woman to care.
Her heart throbbing awake in her chest, Rosie lifted the latch and tugged on the door, only to find it stuck tight. Oh no. She pulled twice more before accepting their fate. "The guard locked it on the way out."
"Well," Anjali tugged the pick from out below her kerchief, "good thing you have a key." With a laugh, she dropped to her knees and got to work.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Hate's Breeding Grounds
The whetstone slicked down the blade, the scraping noises more reminiscent to Gavin of legs running through the tall grass than the vigors of war. His weary fingers gripped tighter to the honing tool, gliding it against one of a dozen swords and daggers left in his care. That was often his duty back on the...abbey. His father would unearth all the dull blades and leave Gavin to it. The work was tedious but also soothing. Each swipe of the stone would scratch away at the blade revealing something better below. At home, he'd sometimes hum to himself or read, but here he was doing his best to not glance over at Cal and his ring of followers.
Instead of being sent off to manage any of the other chores left for the squires, they all gathered together upon the steps to the palace's courtyard and began a game of cards. Cal was in charge, as usual. He kept command of not only the play but also the conversation, steering it wherever he wanted. The only roadblock from the others nodding their heads in constant agreement was the dwarf.
Snowy sat perched upon the lap of a statue of Andraste. Whether the dwarf was aware it was blasphemous or not, Gavin knew better than to point it out. There were already curious glances given to him, as if none of the young men could understand why he'd hang back whenever they 'slipped out the gates.' Perhaps it was all for a quick drink, but he feared the alternative.
"Give me a card," Snowy said. The dwarf talked little around Cal, preferring to keep it all to arched eyebrows and pursed lips. But safe in their tent he was constantly going on about his vast family and how trying they could be. Gavin got the impression Snowy hadn't seen them in quite some time, and that he was the better off for it.
Cal chuckled at the dwarf's impertinence, "Shorty here thinks he's got a chance. Well, all right..." Yanking one out of the deck, their forced upon them leader tossed a fresh card to the dwarf. With a cavalier shrug, Cal leaned back from his pile of winnings. It wasn't much, perhaps enough to buy a new pair of shoes, but in copper form it reminded Gavin of a dragon lording over its treasure.
Doing his best to not watch, Gavin resumed the work his Knight put to him. It wasn't until one of the other squires tapped him on the shoulder that he turned back to find Lambert staring down at him. He was one of the more wiry of the squires, prone to fits of giggling when uncomfortable, and a shade or two lighter than Gavin. While he let his hair poof up around his sphere-like head, unlike Gavin who preferred it shaved down, he bore the strangest pai
r of eyes -- a sort of mint blue.
"You missed a spot," Lambert laughed, jabbing a finger down the same blade Gavin got to a nearly razor shaving edge. Trying to not roll his eyes at the obvious joke, Gavin gave a single harrumph and stared down.
But he assumed wrong in that the boy was just looking to knock him down a peg. "So," Lambert slid down to partially plop beside him, "how come you're not off watching that wily assassin we've got trailing us?"
"Because I was ordered to do this," Gavin said tight lipped. He wasn't certain which he preferred. Keeping an eye on Anjali was less labor intensive, but her eyes and tongue cut through him fast and he was growing tired of it.
"Yeah," Lambert didn't slip away, but stretched his thighs wide in a full sit, "knights, huh? Pain in the ass on a good day. And yours..."
Gavin paused in running the cloth down the sword to finish up polishing it and stared hard at the boy. What did he want? He could ask, but he'd picked up enough social graces to know that when someone was dancing around a subject dragging it from them was rude. A far faster answer, but apparently rude.
"So..." the boy a year or maybe two younger tipped back and forth on his haunches as if he was expecting an opening to appear in the sky. "Were you there when that assassin of yours and the Princess, uh..." The blush was instant upon Lambert's cheeks while Gavin scowled. It was all anyone would speak of or ask him about.
"Maker's busted nut," Cal cursed, both hands extended behind his head as he shut his eyes, "that was glorious to watch."
"I didn't know girls could, I mean, that they would..." Lambert gasped out, his head flickering around the group. Half the boys seemed just as confused about it, while Cal kept dredging it up. He'd been there, but at best got a side view of the assassin cozying up close to their Princess. Not that that stopped him from concocting wild rumors. Some of the tamer ones had the archery lesson end in a kiss. The wilder ones grew more physically impossible with each telling. Whatever he whispered around the fire to his buddies who missed out was no doubt nothing but nonsense.
Gavin gripped a hand around the sword he'd been working on, the knuckles popping as he waited in anticipation for another one of Cal's tall tales. It was nowhere near as wild as the boy kept insisting -- there was no ripping apart bodices, no toplessness, and no other man getting in between them. He was growing tired of the whispers if only for the Princess' sake.
But it was Snowy who was eyeing up his cards with a cold inspection. "This your first time in the real world? Girls with girls, boys with boys. Sometimes girls with both..." the dwarf turned in place to catch Lambert's stricken gaze and then snickered, "if you're real lucky."
"That murderous vixen would be like sticking it into a viper's hole," Cal brayed loudly enough his cultists followed in suit. "But our dear, sweet Princess...Mmm. I talked to a servant, said he caught her naked once. Her breasts are as big as my head," he held his hands out to an enormous proportion. "Can you imagine? Tits that thick shoved in your mouth..."
A sword clattered to the ground beside Cal's flapping lips, Gavin sneering at the weapon he hurled in rage. When the boy's pathetic attempt at a story died from sudden blade intervention, all of them turned to stare at Gavin. He should probably wilt but he was growing more incensed with every damn insinuation out of their mouths.
"This is your royal charge, the woman you've sworn to protect and you treat her as if...as if she's--"
Cal plucked the sword off the ground and ran his finger down the edge. Foolish, as he winced when it drew blood. "How cute," he gasped out through the pain, "farm boy here thinks he's got a chance with her. Riding up on your steed like some conquering hero, but it's a bit hard to go all white knight when you're barely a squire."
Gavin bunched his fist up but kept it locked at his side. Not about to back down, Cal popped up to his feet. He still held the sword in his hands, but Gavin was in such a state he took a step forward while unarmed. How would he explain brawling with one of the fellow squires to his knight? It began when he dared to defame our princess... Highly unlikely that Ser Daryan would believe that or care. But he couldn't stop, Cal's nose calling for his knuckles to shatter every centimeter of bone.
The shit heel seemed to feel the same, Cal advancing through the circle of other squires that were all sliding back. No one wanted to get accidentally disemboweled in the crossfire. Swallowing down a tremor, Gavin lifted up his fist in preparation of defending himself, when Snowy suddenly reached out and grabbed onto his leg.
Pausing in surprise, Gavin glanced down but the dwarf was staring straight ahead at Cal, "You forfeiting the game?"
"What?" that shook Cal from his blood lust, those cold blue eyes darting down to the dwarf. "No."
"Getting up from the table means forfeiting," Snowy calmly explained.
"He's right," one of the others added, which earned a wrathful glare from Cal but nothing more.
For a beat Gavin and Cal's eyes met and a clear threat passed through them. I'm not backing down out of fear, but because you're not worth it...for now. Shifting the sword to his other hand, Cal plopped back onto the ground. "All right, dwarf. Make a damn move."
A sliver of a smile lifted up on Snowy's lips and he plopped his cards upon the ground. "You really should have forfeited when you had the chance." Cal's entire jaw dropped while the dwarf scooped piles and piles of the man's ill gotten coppers into his hands.
"I mean," Snowy chuckled while dropping the coins into his pouch, "for fuck's sake, who challenges a dwarf to Diamondback?" For a beat, he looked back and up to his roommate then down to the fist. Gavin slid away from Cal, his fingers unknotting, which caused Snowy to smile a bit and resume gathering up his winnings.
"Squire," the voice caused every boy to leap to their feet and try to snap to attention. Ser Daryan glanced around at all of them, no doubt spotting a bit of gambling occurring at the feet of their lady, before honing in right on Gavin. "Have you finished with the task?"
"Yes, Ser," he said. "I only need to bundle them up in the leather..."
"Then you have not finished if there is more remaining," Daryan sneered, running her fingers over her forehead. "Lying is not becoming in a knight."
"I..." he glanced down at the pile of work he'd been given. It hardly seemed fair that she'd consider that failing when there'd been no timeframe given. "I'm sorry, Ser."
Daryan snorted, always unimpressed with his accomplishments. "Get back to guarding that blighted woman. I fear our dear Princess has it in her head that we shall be moving out soon despite few resources being prepared."
Dipping his head down in a bow, Gavin accepted his next assignment. "Should I bundle up the swords and deliver them?" he asked Daryan who whipped away from the skyline.
She bent over and lifted one of the swords he'd finished with. Twisting it against the light, Daryan licked her finger and drew it down the edge, moving with it enough to avoid being cut. Gavin braced himself for being told he failed at that too, but she sighed. "No, her Highness' demands overpower anything of mine. You two," Daryan jerked her fingers at Lambert and a squire beside him, "sheathe these up and get them into storage. Now!"
"Yes, Ser," both boys called out, scampering to their feet to do as ordered.
With one last stare at Gavin, Ser Daryan marched away towards the servant's tents. No doubt there was much to prepare if they were to move again. In the five days they'd been at Highever, the entire caravan spread out like a poorly whipped cream. Stepping back from the pile of swords that had new charges, Gavin began to walk up the steps towards the palace proper.
He made it near the doors, when he heard his roommate huffing behind him, "Wait up, lanky legs." With a slow turn, Gavin glanced down at Snowy who was trying to catch a breath from the unexpected sprint. "Blighted ancestors, you move too fast."
"I should get to my duties," Gavin explained, his skin itching out of fear that he might be late. "But, you can come with if you'd like," he added on, growing tired of being the errant squire out of the pack.<
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"Nah," Snowy shook his head, "thinking I'll let Cal challenge me to another round to get his dignity back. Had my eye on a fancy set of combs with birds carved on 'em. See no reason to use my coin to buy them. But we should probably talk a bit."
Gavin groaned, his brain suddenly providing why, "I know I should not have been so easily riled up."
Snowy shrugged a shoulder, "Not unless you're gonna make good on punching out Cal's lights. Though, that was a bad choice there abbey boy. Least if you're trying to keep your whole...vows of chastity bit a secret."
His roommate seemed to find it both funny and slightly admirable, as if Gavin did it out of some sense of honor. Pinching into the bridge of his nose, Gavin sighed, "Then what...?"
"Your Knight, Ser Daryan. What's her problem with you?"
"Problem?" Gavin craned his higher head up, trying to find the woman that'd already marched far away. "There's no problem."
"Riight," Snowy tipped his head, "she's just got you running around like her pet bronto while we all sit fat on our asses. That don't strike you as strange?"
"She's..." Gavin blinked slowly, "I am her squire."
"Who caught an assassin and impressed her Majesty enough to be trusted to watch the walking potential gut wound. That's something most other knights would applaud in their squires. Shows initiative and gumption."
He'd never considered that. Daryan seemed to have as much love for Anjali as Gavin did, wishing the woman would have been thrown into a dungeon or sent back to her native lands. His stumbling upon her was what pulled the assassin into becoming their problem. That had to be all. She was upset that he created more issues for them, even if it was done with good intentions.
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