“Hey, buddy,” I said softly, and Periwinkle nudged his nose against my palm, and something in my chest loosened by a fraction.
Thom saddled him quickly and led him out to the mounting block. Why hadn’t I taken a riding lesson? I’d thought about it several times since the night with Davik and Brogan, but I’d never found the time.
Why had I never found the time? The whole point was for me to become so useful that Aeldryc found me irreplaceable.
Tears threatened, and I pushed them back, nodding to Thom.
How hard can it be?People have been doing it for centuries.
It was very hard.
I stepped onto the mounting block. I grabbed the saddle. I put my foot in the stirrup, which was already at its lowest setting, and heaved myself upward. At least all the dance had prepared me for something.
I got halfway up, swung my leg, misjudged the distance and slid back down the side of Periwinkle like a sock falling off a washing line. Periwinkle turned his head. His expression was patient in the way that only horses and kindergarten teachers can manage.
“Okay,” I said. “Attempt two.”
Attempt two was worse. I got my leg over but my shorts caught on the back of the saddle and I ended up draped across Periwinkle’s back like a saddlebag, staring at the cobblestones from an angle that was both undignified and dangerous.
“Master Pip,” Thom said carefully, “would you like a—”
“Nope. I’m good. This is fine.”
I was not good. I slithered back down. Periwinkle huffed through his nose, and I was certain he was beginning to wonder if perhaps I needed a carriage.
Attempt three involved more determination and less technique, and it ended with me sitting on the ground next to the mounting block while Periwinkle gazed down at me with his big brown eyes.
The cobblestones were cold against my ass. Weeks. I’d been here for weeks, and what had I learned? How to be carried. How to be fucked. How to wear clothes someone else laid out for me. Now the Queen wanted Aeldryc to marry me—and he’d frozen like a computer hitting a fatal error—and I couldn’t even get on a horse.
Congratulations, Pip, I thought. You’re the least useful person in any dimension. That’s not how you convince someone you’re worth keeping.
“You know what.” I got to my feet and brushed off my shorts, avoiding eye contact with Thom so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening. “I’m going to walk.”
“Walk?” Thom tilted his head.
I painted on a cheerful smile. “Yes, walk. Me and Periwinkle. Just a nice walk around the gardens. People walk horses, right? That’s a thing?”
I didn’t wait for Thom to tell me how wrong I was, because I was quite sure I was wrong. I took ahold of Periwinkle’s reins and set off, following a stone path that looked pleasant. And Thom, good man, didn’t argue.
If you ignored the fact that I was supposed to be riding him, it was actually nice. Like walking a large, very calm dog who occasionally nudged my shoulder with his nose to show me which way to go.
The palace gardens were gorgeous, with rows of blooming flowers in purples and golds and deep, velvety reds and immaculate hedges trimmed into geometric shapes. There was even a huge, elaborate fountain, which Periwinkle drank from before I could determine whether horses were supposed to drink from royal fountains.
I decided not to worry about it.
I’d known this was temporary. None of this was mine; not the clothes, not the horse, not the palace, not the beautiful, infuriating man who I’d been spending all of my time with. Because he was trying to find a way for me to get home. They all were. And none of them had thought to ask if I actually wanted to go home.
“He didn’t say no,” I told Periwinkle.
Periwinkle blinked at me.
“He also didn’t say yes, which is why I’m upset, but he didn’t—”
Periwinkle shook his mane, which I chose to interpret as “you’re overthinking this.”
“I’m not overthinking it. The man I’m in love with just got told to marry me by his queen and he went completely blank. That’s not overthinking. That’s appropriate-level thinking.”
I paused.
