He stared. “That’s not Bram.”
“He is to be yours.”
His voice cracked, his eyes bright with tears. “You’re giving me a horse?”
“The Queen is giving you a horse. I just selected him from her stables.”
He made a sound and launched himself at me. I caught him easily, holding him as he muffled words into my chest: “beautiful,” “best,” and something like “I love him already.”
“You haven’t met him.”
“I’ve seen him, and he’s perfect. His face. His hair.”
“It’s called a mane.”
“Right. I will have to learn horse terms! By the way how do I know he’s not a pony?”
“By the size and breed.”
“Wait, they’re the same species?”
“Yes. Horses have breeds, like dogs. Some are ponies.”
“Why is he smaller and prettier than Bram? Sorry Bram, you’re very handsome.”
“Bram is a faebred warhorse, Periwinkle is a breed called faeflight, built for elegance and speed.”
Pip tilted his head. “I may not need the speed, but I’m all about the elegance.”
The gelding watched with ears pricked, eyes soft. When Pip approached with outstretched hand, the horse lowered his head and pressed his velvet nose into Pip’s palm.
“Oh, you sweet thing. You absolute angel.”
He stroked the gelding’s nose, neck, ears, murmuring endearments. The gelding leaned into his embrace. It was a good sign.
“We are traveling to the outer counties.” I waited until Pip could focus. “There’s been a report in Stonedeep County. A human matching Sky’s description, traveling with a troll. The Queen wants it investigated.”
“Sky?” Pip’s head snapped up. “So are we sure it’s Sky?”
“Not yet. Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t think we’ll know until we find someone who has talked to him.”
“When do we leave?”
“Now. Four of the Guard are already saddled and waiting at the gate.”
Pip turned back and cupped the gelding’s face. He looked into its eyes with the intensity of someone about to make a vow. “Your name is Periwinkle.”
Bram snorted, looking offended.
”It’s a flower,” Pip said to the gelding. “It’s very pretty and blue, but tough on the inside. Just like you.”
Bram shook his head with a disapproving snort.
Pip reached into his pocket and produced a sugar cube, which he fed to Periwinkle. Bram nickered, and Pip laughed and gave him one, too, scratching Bram between the ears.
“Don’t worry, Bram, I still think you’re the handsomest boy,” he said, and Bram shot me a smug look.
“How often are you feeding Bram sugar cubes?”
