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"I would love to, my dear," she said.

John beamed.

"I reckon you would most want to ride His Grace's horse. Well, I mean, they are all His Grace's horses, and now yours, of course," John babbled, but she nodded patiently. The reminder only sharpened her uncertainty, though she kept smiling all the same.

"Whichever one you think is best,” Eliza said.

The stable boy began preparing a whole complex arrangement of fabric and reins. She had no idea what they were. He then purposefully went over to the largest horse in the stable.

Of course, that was Arthur's.

The stallion's eyes were every bit as imposing as his master's, but John led the horse named Fido out of the stable without difficulty and prepared him for riding before glancing around for something.

"Is all well, John?" she asked.

"Yes, Your Grace. It’s just that I am not used to preparing for riders of your stature, so I'm having to improvise."

He found the sturdiest bucket he could and tipped it upside down for her to use as a step. He even brushed the top with his bare hands to make sure it was not too dirty. Her heart warmed at the gesture.

She took his outstretched hand and climbed onto the bucket before slowly and nervously mounting Fido. Eliza had not realised quite how high up she would be, which was rather foolish of her. After all, Fido had towered over her even when she had been standing beside him.

“He's... rather taller than I expected."

Fido shifted beneath her. The unexpected movement caused her body to jerk and her hands tense on the reins she had been handed.

"Now..."

She smiled sheepishly at John.

"What do I do now?"

John stared.

"Pardon, Your Grace?" he said.

"Well..." She shifted awkwardly.

"This is my first time on a horse."

She quickly pressed on, eager to reassure him that she had at least some familiarity with horses.

"But I have fed one before."

John's face drained of colour.

"Oh..."

He cleared his throat.

"In that case, Your Grace, I strongly suggest—"

Eliza sneezed.

Fido exploded into motion.

"Oh!" she squeaked before she felt air leave her lungs. The world lurched. Trees blurred, and the wind whipped against her face repeatedly. It was a sensation she had never felt before. She tried to regain control of the reins, which had slipped awkwardly through her fingers as she pulled one way, then the other.

In the distance she could faintly hear John calling out, but Fido had made his way towards the border, and John was but barely visible in the distance now. The open grounds of Winworth gradually gave way to a grove of silver birches, their pale trunks rising in every direction until the woodland closed around her.