“No amount of sighing or mussing up your hair is going to make me any less infuriating to train.”
Varic’s eyes narrow as he attempts to glare at me in response, yet the ornery glint shining from the corner of his eyes gives his amusement away before he turns back to the wall of perfectly organized tack to grab a set of brown leather reins.
“I’m listening. I promise.”
“We could always go back inside and send a message to the Prince saying that you’ve hurt your ankle or something,” Lars suggests.
Malin gestures for him to come closer, so he becomes a red streak of speed to stand by Malin’s side. His hazel eyes fill with compassion as he whispers a message of support until Lars’ shoulders relax their tension. My heart quirks as Lars squeezes Malin’s hand in a fleeting moment of meaningful eye contact, before returning just as quickly to stand guard across from Cirrin, pulling in a deep breath as he settles against the door frame.
“Tasch.” Varic redirects my attention, though I cannot absorb the barrage of words he expels when explaining each of the safety protocols to me.
I nod and pretend to focus on what he’s describing as he gesticulates, his concern for my safety increasingly palpable as he repeats the steps required to both mount and dismount. Then he carries on about how to direct the horse with a mix of work with the reins and various commands.
Stable Master Jan leads a brindle mare from her stall, and my pulse thrums in my ears with excitement.
“This is Filly.” Stable Master Jan introduces the beautiful horse before him.
“Filly? Really?” I ask.
“Yes, we are exceptionally creative with naming our horses here in Annovia.”
“I can tell.”
“She’s our calmest mare. The best choice for a first-time rider.”
“Thank you. She’s a beauty.”
Filly nickers in response to my approach, using the advice Varic gave me in slowly following her lead. My chest swells with pride the moment she lifts her muzzle to sniff my leathers, imbuing me with a natural sense of calm the longer I pet her.
Stable Master Jan leads Filly inside the riding corral, and the clang of the gate locking behind us reverberates within my skull, jaw clenching as I imagine having to sling my leg up and over this tall animal in front of my Guards. I must recall the new information I have just learned while performing unfamiliar actions in front of an audience with exceptional risk of harm.
Stable Master Jan smiles from beside Filly as I approach slowly and greet her as I had earlier. She nuzzles my open palm as I speak in low, soothing tones, trying to form some sort of bond before I am to clamber on her back where she will be expected to work for me.
“Would you like to lead her around?” Jan asks.
Varic smiles at me with a sense of pride, and something about the glimmer in his eye, or maybe his belief in me, seems to infuse me with enough confidence to try it.
“Sure,” I say, reaching for the lead with a slight tremor.
The leather feels right in my hand, and I pull in a breath before nodding to Filly. I cluck my tongue and step ahead with my pulse pounding in my ears, then relax the tension held in my shoulders once Filly responds by following.
This might be a small thing to anyone with more freedom; however, a sense of accomplishment thrums through me now, feeling lighter as I walk beside this majestic being. One who trusts and respects me enough to follow a command which she easily has the power to refuse.
“Time to practice mounting,” Varic says, stepping in closer to my side as warmth spreads over my chest, thankfully obscured by my riding leathers.
“Oh, this should be good.” Fray leans back on the corral with sketchbook in hand, staring up with his keen eyes as I pull in a breath, unwilling to demand he keep from documenting this.
Varic’s warm spice scent envelops me with help from the light breeze, and I struggle to recall what he’s just said as his hair falls over his forehead. It’s grown so long it can nearly touch the lines deepening on either side of his eyes.
“You’re going to help me?”
“Would you prefer it were someone else?”
“No,” I barely whisper as he rolls his lips inward, apparently picking up Cirrin’s habit.
Then his expression shifts to a satisfied grin as he angles himself so close there is only a sliver of air between us, though what little exists sizzles with tension. I swallow the noise building in my throat as his eyes blaze a trail down the side of my neck, flushing more intensely as the heat only spreads.
I step into him and force my back flush with his chest as he grabs onto the swell of my hips. My breath catches when he doesn’t waste a second as he grabs hold of me harder while pressing us forward, stepping with me to better reach the saddle. The heat from his body blankets my own, and I want nothing more than to let his hands continue their exploration.
