“I will.” Tobias’s face was already red, and I suspected it was going to get redder before he was finished. “Don’t challenge me on that and don’t get in my way.”
Pretending I couldn’t detect the threatening tone in his voice, I casually leaned my head against the wall. “This is your chance with Conner, then. Be strong. Be bold. Tell him about all the notes you’ve made. Show them to him and prove just how smart you’ve become.”
Tobias glanced over at his stack of papers. Worry lines creased his forehead as he asked, “Have you been in my papers?”
“What good would that do me? I just think those notes would show off the results of your studies, prove to him that you have plans of your own.”
Tobias grabbed his papers and threw them into the fire. He marched over to my bed and stuck a finger in my face, then yelled, “You think you’re so clever, but if you push me any further you’ll see how foolish you are.”
“I never denied being a fool,” I said, lying back down on my bed. “That’s the difference between us.”
I slept the rest of that evening and through the night, waking up only when Imogen came to check on my bandages.
There was so much I wanted to ask her, but someone else was always in the room with us, and any real conversation was impossible.
I was more careful this time to let her do her job without giving her any particular attention, though I still felt the entire charade was ridiculous. Most of these servants came to Farthenwood in better circumstances than I had. And right now, I was much more like the servants than Conner. My friendships with Imogen or Errol or Mott shouldn’t have threatened any of them.
Morning brought stiffness to my muscles. I must’ve been too tired the day before to notice how sore they were, or maybe it was that I didn’t have to move around much before now. Errol insisted on helping me dress, even brought Mott into the room to ensure I accepted that help. It wasn’t necessary. Standing there with my arms out while Errol dressed me was about as much as I could do.
With considerable struggle, I managed to stay awake that day and even paid a semblance of attention to the morning tutors. Master Graves made it very clear that they had moved on without me and had no time to return to the lessons of the previous few days, so I would have to catch up as best as I could.
“It’s been a week since you came to Farthenwood, Sage, and you’re no further along than the first day we started.”
I told him that was probably because I’d only had two of his lessons and, in all fairness to myself, hadn’t really bothered to pay attention to either of them. This only darkened his glares at me, and he focused the rest of the lesson on Roden.
Mistress Havala also said there wasn’t enough time to review what had been discussed while I was — she generously used the word indisposed — but gave me two books that she said contained much of the same information.
“You probably can’t read them without help,” she said. “Perhaps Tobias will help you in the evenings.”
“I’m certain that Tobias has already given me too much help,” I said.
Tobias gripped the sides of his chair and said whatever he might do to please Master Conner would please him.
Roden and Tobias did horseback and sword-fighting lessons that afternoon. I was excused from participating, but Mott insisted I watch them. I watched the horseback lessons until they rode too far away for me to see them and I fell asleep. The sword-fighting lesson was somewhat more interesting. Tobias was still a disaster with a sword, but Roden had improved significantly. I wondered if he was naturally talented or if he’d been putting in a lot of extra hours of practice.
Mott commented on it too. Roden shrugged and said Cregan had offered to help him during free hours.
“Cregan is skilled with a sword, but he’s self-taught,” Mott warned. “With him as your teacher, you will learn to fight, but your style will not reflect the training of a prince.”
“My lessons with you will help me pass for the prince,” Roden said. “But Cregan’s lessons will keep me alive.”
Dinner that evening was relatively quiet. Conner vaguely inquired after our progress but said he’d already had full reports from all our instructors. He asked me what I was doing to try to catch up.
I shrugged and said I planned to study Tobias’s notes after he was asleep. Tobias shot me a glare, but Conner laughed.
“And what is your response to that?” Conner asked Tobias.
Tobias shook his head. “I have no notes, sir. And Sage couldn’t read them if I did.”
“If you did have notes, Sage could get them and perhaps even read them. You had better be careful, Tobias, or Sage will end up as my choice.”
“That would be a mistake, sir,” Tobias mumbled.
“Your mistake,” Conner corrected, “is that you are more interested in pleasing me than in becoming like the boy Prince Jaron was. Learn to fight back, Tobias. Be strong!” His eyes drifted to me, and he shook his head. “Don’t be smug about that, Sage. Jaron didn’t seek fights either, the way you do. I can see you all still have much to learn about who the prince really was.”
After we returned to our room that night, I fell onto my bed, not caring what clothes I slept in, as long as I could sleep. But Tobias sat at the desk, turning his chair to stare directly at me.
Finally, I muttered, “You obviously have something to say, Tobias. So what is it?”