The Ostler's Boy (The Ostler's Boy Book 1)

Chapter Twenty

"Svana!" Cyrus called.

I was desperate to shake him, trampling through the crowd, and taking every which way, every turn I could find to open. I didn't even understand why he'd left after me, yet he was relentless. He finally caught me at a dead end; an alley the Capitol had forgotten about.

"What are you doing?" he huffed. "Do you want to be robbed?" He took me by the arm to cart me towards the street but we were met by two others. Unsavory looking types; one with a knife and both blocking our only path.

"Give us the purse," the taller hissed.

Cyrus let go of me, unsheathing his broadsword in a flourish that scared even me. It caught every trace of light as it snaked around either side of his body and cast it back onto their faces before the point settled at them. "A very bad decision," he said. "Is it worth your life?"

They looked at each other and must have decided he was too convincing to chance; flat out running from him, nearly tripping as they went.

I heard him breathe out heavily, before he turned. His blade went back into the holster with a metallic clink, and he was mad. "Never leave me like that again, Svana!"

The impact of what had happened in the last, few, fleeting moments hit me mere seconds into his scowl, but as soon as I had began to react, he swept me into his chest.

"Forgive me," he muttered, speaking into the side of my hair. "Are you alright? That should've been my first thought."

"Oh, God," I whined. "Had you not come after me-!"

"But I did," he met my face, hands tight, flat against my head. "And I always will. I will always protect you."

My fingers burrowed into his shirt, as I nodded, pulling him closer and finally kissing him. Cyrus' hand slid down my back, granting me a brief surrender to the intimacy I craved, that is, before he took a staggering step back. He looked out onto the market. "We should go."

"Is it Lydia?" I asked, miffed by the sudden stop.

"At the shop? Does she not handle your gowns? I was sure you'd met."

"No, not. Is she why you're acting...Is she why... It wasn't coincidence we wound up there today, was it?"

"Coincidence?" He paused. "No. Not coincidence. Habit. Lydia's happened to be close. I knew her shop would be open. Potentially desolate. I only meant to get off the street. I... it wasn't an act intended to... hurt you?"

"It didn't hurt me," I sent my eyes off.

"No?"

"Not in the least," I lied.

Cyrus rolled his. "I was flustered," he confessed.

"Oh, right," was my response.