“Everything all right, Astrid?” Frederic’s voice carries across the stable.
“Oh, yes. Fine.”
He moves to my side at once. “Are you sure?”
Why can’t I mask my feelings better?
I glance at Silver, who shifts her weight and lets out a soft snort. “She’s just quite large, isn’t she?”
Frederic reaches out without hesitation and runs a hand along Silver’s nose. She leans into the touch, making a low, appreciative sound as she shifts her hooves, just as Chestnut did.
My fiancé, it would appear, is extremely good with horses.
“She seems like a lovely horse,” he says.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. It’s just that she’s so big.”
Mr. Timbale dispatches two stable hands to saddle the horses. They work with brisk efficiency, leather straps tightened, girths checked, reins adjusted. Before long, Chestnut and Silver are led out into the courtyard, their hooves clomping against the stone.
Frederic places his foot in the stirrup and swings himself up onto Chestnut in one smooth, effortlessmovement. He settles into the saddle as though he was born there, gathering the reins with quiet confidence.
He turns his horse to face me. When he sees me frozen by the side of the huge horse, he asks, “Everything all right?”
“Fine. Yes, fine,” I reply, feeling anything but.
He studies me for half a second longer than necessary. “My man, take this for me, will you?” he says to one of the stable hands, passing over Chestnut’s reins before dismounting in one single fluid motion.
How does hedothat?
“Let me help you, Asti.”
“Thank you,” I say, very aware of how far away the saddle seems from the ground.
“Place your left foot here.” He steadies the stirrup while I do as he says. “Shall I give you a lift?”
“If you don’t mind.”
What happens next is so swift I barely have time to process it. Without hesitation, he places his hands at my waist, then lower, and hoists me upward.
By my bottom.
I let out a startled breath, swing my right leg over to find the opposite stirrup.
I marvel at what just happened. One moment I’m wobbling uncertainly at ground level, the next, I am seated securely atop a very large horse.
I look down at Frederic, slightly breathless. “Well, you made that easy.”
“You’re as light as a feather,” he replies, the corner of his mouth lifting in the faintest quirk. “That helps.”
It’s a small smile. Blink and you’d miss it.
I don’t.
Since arriving in Ledonia, I’ve become attuned toFrederic’s smiles. When once, they were few and far between, they’ve been appearing more frequently lately.
I refuse to read anything into it. A smile is just a smile, after all.
I watch as he once again mounts Chestnut with ease. He guides his horse around until he’s positioned neatly beside me.
