Finally.
I only allowed myself to sleep until daybreak on my days off. I was still in bed when I heard Nadya struggling to put on her dress.
“Thank you for the bread and cheese,” I told her.
“You don’t have to thank me every time. Besides, you do the same for me. Help me with this, will you?” She gave me her back. I pulled her laces. “That’s tight enough. Now hurry up or you won’t find anything left. That pig Tomas must be stuffing his mouth as we speak.” Before closing the door behind her, she said, “Say hi to your great-aunt for me.”
“I will.”
Nadya was right. I grabbed the last remaining piece of overbaked flatbread.
I filled my waterskin, although it was not really necessary. I had plenty of water where I was going—and that wasnotsomething everyone in Ramel could say. But leaving the castle without a filled waterskin would raise suspicion.
After making sure Mounir was on the opposite side of the castle, I exited through the south wing and lingered until I was certain no watchful eyes were lurking.Now.
I only slowed my pace once I was hidden behind the mesa.
I took that same path every day, but it was rare—once a month, to be precise—to see it in broad daylight, and evenrarer to have the luxury of time to admire its warm beauty. My thoughts drifted to the first time I took this route, my first day working here.
Heading south, a landscape made of a mixture of waves of badlands and desert pavements stretched in front of us. It occupied our field of view up to the horizon, and scattered across the grainy dunes were hard, spiny cacti and small shrubs.
Where land met sky, a haze of hot air shimmered, merging the badlands and the sand dunes into one, like a horizontally stroked painting.
Prince Semuel’s stables were not yet in view, and I wondered how much longer we had to walk in the blazing heat.
“Not many people know the exact location of my stables. It’s not a secret as such, but I’ve had it built in the most secluded area of the Sand Castle district, and I like to keep it somewhat concealed.”
“You did say earlier that you liked your privacy.”
To our left, along the badlands, was a mesa. We followed the downward-sloping, gritty land, then walked along the declining path through a wide crevice.
“Indeed, I spend most of my days here, with them,” Prince Semuel said, gesturing with an open arm.
I gaped at what I beheld hidden along the other side of the mesa. A sandy paddock, thrice the size of that of the orphanage, and behind it, the stables.
Its stony fawn-and-sandy-brown flank wall overlooking the paddock blended seamlessly with the earthen terrain. Ten windows lay interspersed across the wall, each adorned withwhite tiles, onto which ornate flowers, the colour of saffron were painted.
Prince Semuel placed his joined thumb and middle finger in his mouth and blew a shrill whistle that pierced my eardrums. My pain vanished the moment I spotted five heads, one by one, curiously popping out of their respective windows, like hungry cats eagerly waiting for the cat whisperer to come feed them. My heart melted at the sight of them, and I gasped.
Semuel’s brown eyes gleamed, and his features softened. “They’re my favourite five.”
The facade of the stables was covered in textured marble tiles identical to those adorning the windowsills, as was the floor. To my right, I could count ten stalls. Five of them were, to my pleasure, occupied. Caged at the very back of the stables, an absurd amount of hay bales were stacked atop each other from floor to ceiling. Also, to my pleasure, the last stall was overflowing with towers of books.
He has as many books here as he has in his room—more, perhaps.
“This place is…it’s…it’s just wonderful,” I breathed, my voice in awe. “And the stable, it’s huge!”
“Wait till you see the main stables.”
“The main stables are bigger than this?”
“The stalls are not as large, but yes, the stables can hold up to fifty horses, including my sister Yosefa’s.” My eyes widened. The Sand Warrior Princess, the leader of her fourteen. “Oh, and there’s not only the biggest paddock, but there’s also a racetrack. It’s where the Graind Races are held every year.”
I gasped. “I’ve heard of the Graind Races. Do you think I would be able to attend?” I asked with hopeful eyes.
“Of course. It would be cruel of me not to let a fellow horse enthusiast attend. Besides, I would need your assistance on the day. This year I’m planning on racing Ruckson.”
I’msoglad he interrupted my interview! Sand Priestess Selmira will be thrilled to learn that I am now the servant of one of the princes. And not just that, but also one who seems kind and fun and has his own stable!
