To You

“Aurelius,” Ambrosius said mildly, though he blushed, “no need to be so fierce with the pages. It wasn’t so long ago we were pages ourselves, aye?”

The blond boy was Prince Aurelius. Of course. Prince Ambrosius’ younger twin brother, the legendarily brilliant warrior despite being only a squire; Prince Ambrosius was known more for his skills in diplomacy and magic. As if sensing Niamh’s thoughts, Ambrosius tugged on the collar of his squire tabard, obviously uncomfortable.

But he smiled at Niamh, and she felt something in her chest lurch. “Don’t mind him - his bark is worse than his bite. It’s true, though, the master-at-arms forgot to assign me a page. If you’ll follow me, you’ll be staying adjacent to my chambers during your training.”

Niamh swallowed hard and almost tripped over Niall’s big feet as she followed Ambrosius away from the pages’ hall.

“So, Niall, do you come from a large family?”

Ambrosius smiled over his shoulder at her, and she was struck by how lovely his blue eyes were. Her voice lodged in her throat.

“No need to be afraid - I am the prince, but I’m also just a boy. Speak up.”

“My mother died when I was a child,” Niamh said, “and I have one sibling. A twin br- sister. She is training in the magical arts.”

Ambrosius’ smile brightened, and Niamh felt her palms begin to sweat.

“Then you understand some of what I put up with when it comes to Aurelius. Are you elder or younger?”

“Younger,” Niamh said, which was true - she was younger, but Niall was older. It wasn’t as if Ambrosius would ever find out.

“When we’re twins, it doesn’t make much of a difference, I suppose,” Ambrosius said. “Besides, you and I are more similar than you and Aurelius - after all, we’re both the ones who will inherit.” He pushed open a door down a side hallway to reveal a small stone chamber with a more comfortable-looking bed than Niamh had ever known. A wooden chest for belongings and a wash basin stood off to the side.

“Is this...my room?”

“Yes.” Ambrosius pointed to a door in the far wall. “My chamber is through there, should I need you in the night. Honestly, I can dress myself, but sometimes I’ll need help with my armour.”

“Of course, My Lord,” Niamh stammered.

“None of that - to you, I’m Ambrosius.”