“Let me go! You brute!” She kicked out, aiming for his knee, only to misjudge the movement entirely. Instead of landing a satisfying blow, she sent herself teetering further over the side of the horse, her head dipping dangerously toward the ground.
Deyric’s hand shot out, grabbing the back of her dress before she could completely tip over.
“Careful, now,” he said, far too amused. “Hate to see you crack that stubborn skull of yours again before we even get back to the castle.”
Emmaline wriggled, trying to pull herself back onto the horse, but her current predicament made things… complicated. With her chest still strapped down, her attempt to turn upright only succeeded in shoving her rear end directly into the air right in front of Deyric.
A muscle in his jaw ticked. Then—
“You are a reckless thing, aren’t you? I thought numbers folks were supposed to be more… I don’t know… measured.”
Emmaline’s face went hot. “Shut up and pull me back up!”
“And ungrateful, too. This is the second time today I’ve had to come save you.”
She shrieked, still flailing as the horse took another slow step forward, the movement rocking her precariously. From her vantage, all she could see was the blur of trampled grass, swaying gently with each lazy roll of the beast beneath her.
“Save me?!” Her voice pitched dangerously high. “I’ll have you know—”
Smack.A firm swat landed on her raised backside.
Emmaline stiffened, breath catching in her throat.
That didn’t just happen. Oh, gods, that absolutely just happened.
“Bad, little killer,” Deyric murmured so casually it took a second for her brain to catch up.
Heat shot through her belly.It was rage, definitely rage. Nothing else.
“How dare you!” She bucked, trying to face him, trying to kill him, but her momentum threw her weight entirely off balance despite the leather digging into her skin.
And then, she was falling. Again.
One second, she was strapped in place, and the next, she was hurtling toward the ground in a graceless tangle, landing with a sound more thud than thump and rolling once before coming to a breathless jumble in the flattened grass.
Above her, the silver horse snorted, tail flicking.
Deyric sighed, staring out across the open field toward the distant glow of the castle. “Should I just leave you here, then?” He tilted his head, considering. “You probably won’t die.”
“Yes, just leave me.” Emmaline lifted her chin, crossing her arms as she sat in the dirt, willing herself to look dignified despite her utterly undignified position.Shoulders squared. Back straight. Regal, aloof.She imagined herself as a tragic heroine, abandoned and valiant, the picture of quiet suffering.
A breeze kicked up a clump of dry grass, and it promptly stuck to the side of her face.
“It’s only another fifteen miles to the castle.” He glanced her over. “You can probably do that by dawn.” His eyes flicked to her feet, bare toes peeking out from beneath the now thoroughly dirt-streaked white dress. “Even in those sandals.”
“Fifteen miles?” She shoved herself upright, too fast, and pain seared through her ankle the second she put weight on it. “Ahh!”
Deyric hummed, turning the horse with only his knees. “Maybe by lunch tomorrow, then.”
Her stomach plummeted. He couldn’t be serious. He wouldn’t actually leave her here.
“Hey!” She took a step after him, only for the pain to jolt through her leg again. “Ahh!” Her knees buckled, and she barely caught herself before toppling over. “Wait! Don’t leave me!”
The horse paused, and Deyric twisted, looking back at her. “You want my help, then?”
“No!” The word flew out on instinct.
He shrugged and turned forward again.
