Joslyn smiled at Tasia in the vanity’s mirror, and her black eyes held a hint of impish mischief. She took a half-step towards the door, then stopped and turned back.
“Princess?”
“Just Tasia, Joslyn.”
“Tasia, then.” The guard paused, and Tasia had another one of those rare moments of seeing the woman’s emotions in her eyes. The mischievousness had given way to something… else.
“Yes?” Tasia prompted.
“I just wanted you to know… I know I said it before, but… no one will ever get close enough to harm you again,” Joslyn said. “I mean it. Not while I still have breath to fight.”
“Thank you,” Tasia said. And while the last time the guard said it, she’d been suspicious, this time, she found the guard’s sincerity touching.
“Sleep well, Tasia.”
“And you, Joslyn.”
The guard disappeared into the antechamber, and the door closed with a click behind her.
Mylla launched herself onto Tasia’s bed, sliding across the quilt until her face was just a foot from Tasia’s, who still sat at her vanity.
“Oh, Princess,” she said in a mocking voice. “You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll never let those big, bad Cult of Culo priests get close to you ever again. And tomorrow, I’ll make you carry even more boulders down the beach and speak to you insubordinately again, all to ensure your safety.”
“I take it you were eavesdropping?”
“‘Just call me Tasia when we’re alone,’” Mylla said, imitating the Princess. “Have you already forgotten how she spoke to you today?”
Tasia set her brush down on the vanity with enough force that the jewelry resting there jumped. “Don’t,” the Princess said, a warning in her voice.
“Don’t what?” Mylla asked. “Remind you that she’s a brutish, ex-slave nomad?”
“Lower your voice. She’s only just there.” Tasia gestured at the door to the antechamber.
“You’re attracted to her,” Mylla accused.
Tasia let out a sound that was almost a laugh. “So that’s what this is? You’re jealous? While you go meet with men you might marry every night, you’re the one getting jealous? Of my guard?”
“That’s different,” Mylla said. “I have no choice about marriage.”
“And I have no choice but to have a guard from Terinto follow me everywhere I go!”
“You didn’t deny it,” said the handmaid, climbing off the Princess’s bed.
“Deny what?” Tasia barked.
“That you’re attracted to her.”
“I’m not — I’m — why on Earth would you think I’m attracted to her?” Tasia sputtered.
“Because I know you,” said Mylla. “I know what you sound like when you’re interested in someone.”
“Even if I was — which I’m not — why would you even care?” Tasia asked, rising from her seat at the vanity. “You and I have both had… plenty of encounters. Was I jealous about Willem? Or Lars? Have you ever been jealous of Markas or Lord Simon?
“That’s different,” Mylla said.
“Why? Because they’re men?”
“No, because you don’t care about them any more than they care about you,” the handmaid said.
“Mother Moon, Mylla! I do not care about Joslyn!”
Tasia realized that she’d shouted the declaration loud enough for her voice to carry into the antechamber. She glanced over her shoulder at the door as if the guard might burst through to contradict her. She drew in a breath.
“It’s late,” Tasia said, lowering her voice. She stepped closer to the handmaid and placed a hand on her forearm. “We’re probably only arguing because we’re both tired. So let’s just go to sleep, alright?”
“Yes,” said Mylla, pulling her arm away. “Let’s.” She walked towards her own bedchamber.
“I meant in my bed,” Tasia said. “Won’t you sleep beside me?”
“I think I prefer my own bed tonight.”
The handmaid disappeared into her room and slammed the door hard behind her.
Tasia sighed and climbed into bed alone.
13
“Will Lady Mylla be joining us this morning?” Joslyn inquired.
“No,” Tasia said. She glanced at the closed bedchamber door behind her. “I think the Lady Mylla has had her fill of watching me move rocks up and down the beach.”
The corner of Joslyn’s mouth twitched up into a slight smile. “She will be disappointed. We are done with the first phase of your training, and move on to the second part today.”
Tasia touched a finger to the callouses growing on her palms. “So all my rock-carrying finally made me strong enough to move on to actual self-defense?”
The two of them walked down the empty corridor, away from the palace’s royal wing. At this time of the morning, they would be unlikely to meet anyone except the palace’s night guard. Which might explain why Joslyn was more talkative than usual.
“No,” Joslyn said, the smile growing on her face. “All your rock-carrying has made you humble enough to learn actual self-defense.”
Tasia opened her mouth to argue, but then thought better of it. Instead, she matched Joslyn’s smile. “You’re crafty, you know that? For an ex-slave who barely knows her alphabet.”
“Perhaps you have it backwards,” said the guard. “Perhaps I’m crafty because I’m an ex-slave who barely knows her alphabet.”
Tasia chuckled. “True enough. But the next time Mylla is gone for the evening to meet another one of her suitors, we’re focusing on your writing. I think I had better handwriting when I was three.”
Joslyn glanced at the Princess. “I am happy to apply myself to my studies,” she said, “but are you sure you aren’t bringing up my letters because I beat you at Castles and Knights last time we played?”
“Quite sure,” Tasia said, but she grinned.
They arrived at the beach just as the sun peaked above the horizon in the east, pouring its pink-red light onto the gently lapping waves. Joslyn stood to the side, shedding her black palace guard’s leather tunic, revealing a loose, sleeveless linen shirt beneath. Tasia gazed out at the ocean, relaxed. She’d always found the water to be restorative.
“It’s beautiful, don’t you — ” she started, but before she could complete the statement, Joslyn pounced on her. She wrapped one arm tightly around Tasia’s throat, cutting off both Tasia’s air supply and her squeal of surprised protest.
“The first rule of self-defense,” the guard said into her ear, “is to remember that an attack may come at any time, from any person.” Joslyn loosened her grip around the Princess’s throat, just enough so that Tasia could breathe. “Now that I have you in this position, what are you going to do to free yourself?”
Tasia clawed at Joslyn’s arm, but no matter how deep she dug her nails or how hard she tugged at the guard’s wrist, the arm didn’t move. Finally, the Princess sagged. “I can’t fight you. You’re too strong.”