We reach the line of trees, and instinct takes over. I ease Silver back as we enter the thicket. Experience has taught me that unfamiliar woods deserve respect. Even a modest forest can conceal uneven ground, low branches, and unexpected turns.
We weave between trunks, dappled light flickering over us as we follow the path Frederic has taken.
Ahead, I see him slow, turning in the saddle to look back through the trees.
“Are you all right?” he calls again.
“I’m great!” I shout back.
“Can you catch me up?”
“Challenge accepted!”
I want to impress Frederic.
I press Silver forward. Her hooves strike the forest floor in quick, sure beats as we dart between trees and past low shrubs, following the narrow trail with Frederic leading the way.
Thankfully, we break through the final line of trees and emerge onto a rolling green hill. The land opens up around us, wide and sunlit.
Frederic is waiting at the crest, Chestnut’s sides rising and falling as he pants lightly from the run. There’s a broad, genuine smile on Frederic’s face.
“About time you arrived,” he says, his chocolate-brown eyes sparkling. Is it from the ride? The rush of fresh air? Orperhaps… something else?
“Was that another joke, Fred?” I ask as I guide Silver to a halt beside him.
“It might have been.”
“Shall we meander?”
“Of course.”
We ease our horses into a relaxed walk, cresting the hill together before descending the other side. The view steals the breath from my lungs. Mountains rising blue in the distance, a river glinting in the afternoon sun like a ribbon of silver, rolling green all around us.
“I can see why you ride every morning,” I say.
“It’s good exercise. But mostly it’s the space. The quiet.”
“You like your own company?”
“I do.”
“Ah,” I nod knowingly. “You’re an introvert. I could have told you that.”
He glances sideways at me. “My profession would suggest otherwise.”
“Your profession was designed for an extrovert.”
“That’s very perceptive of you.”
“It’s not perceptive. I’m an extrovert. I love meeting people, talking to them, being in the middle of it all. You’re more reserved.”
He arches a brow. “The Ice Prince, you mean?”
I wrinkle my nose. “I hate that expression. They don’t know you. They judge you without even bothering to look past the surface.”
He studies me, something thoughtful flickering in his gaze. “Why do you say that?”
“Because there’s more to you than meets the eye. I can tell that, and I’m only just getting to know you. It’s obviousyou care about people. At least it is to me. You just don’t perform it the way others expect.”
