Page 14 of Crown of the Dunes

“You are surprisingly insightful, although I can’t promise your backside won’t be sorry by the time we return if you’ve truly never ridden a horse,” I said.

“I’m not sure it’s insight as much as understanding.” Calix shrugged. “After years of constantly flitting around on a ship, being stationary for so long makes me restless. It was why I was dressed and wandering about before dawn. I much prefer the open sea to stone walls.”

Before I could reply that I wasn’t sure the dunes would offer the same charms as the ocean, the dull clop of hooves signaled Kaius’s return. Behind him plodded a sullen looking gelding, his coat the dull brown of laka, only interrupted by a white blaze.

“This fellow should do you nicely for your first time.” Kaius’s tone held laughter, as if he told a joke only he was privy to.

As the horse approached Calix, the prince held out his hand, looking more like he was trying to shake the mount’s hand than let him sniff. The gelding’s nostrils flared, but he otherwise didn’t acknowledge Calix’s greeting.

“And who do I have the pleasure of riding today?” Calix asked, seemingly unperturbed by the horse’s unenthusiastic greeting.

“Stump,” Kaius proclaimed proudly.

A huff of amusement caught in my throat. Most of Kaius’s horses had elegant names, speaking of their unique and admirable qualities—like Daiti’s name representing his swiftness, or Cail’s her patience.

However, Kaius also had a tendency to flout tradition.

“Why Stump?” Calix asked, seemingly also taken aback. He chanced patting the horse’s nose, finally getting the reaction of a disinterested huff.

“Because if you can sit on a stump, you can keep your seat on this fellow.” Kaius’s eyes twinkled with mirth, although his expression stayed serious.

At that, a full-fledged laugh tumbled out of my throat, startling me so thoroughly that I clapped a hand over my mouth in embarrassment. Still, as both men smiled at my reaction, another snort escaped me, surprising me with how good it felt. The momentary reprieve from the constant onslaught of doubt and uncertainty left me craving more.

It was my turn to smile. “Let’s ride.”

If I wasn’t sure that Kaius had a robust sense of humor before, I was now.

With a grimace, I nudged my mare with my knee. She was much livelier out in the open plains, and I urged her to prance in circles around Calix and Stump. As we came around their left side, Stump was forced to turn his grumpy plodding back toward the city walls. Previously he had been listing this way and that, despite Calix’s urging.

The prince let out a heavy sigh, and the periphery of my gaze caught on the way his fists clenched and unclenched on his thighs.

“He’s never going to follow your instructions if you’re tense,” I commented, now letting Cail prance back and forth in front of him in energetic little zig zags as I looked over my shoulder.

“I don’t think he’ll listen to my instructions no matter what,” Calix grumbled in a tone clearly not meant for me, but my lips quirked up anyway.

“I’m not tense!” he shouted, clear enough for me to hear over the desert wind.

I leaned my weight back to slow my horse’s trot to a slow walk, matching the pace of Stump’s deliberate plodding, letting him and Calix pull up next to us.

“Your hands say otherwise.” I shot a pointed glance to the white knuckled fingers wrapped around his knees.

With a huff, he released their grip and shook his hands before staring at them accusingly, as if they had betrayed him. “It feels awkward. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my hands.”

I glanced down at my own palms, facing up where they rested lightly on my thighs, fingers curled, but relaxed. I had never really given them much thought when I was on horseback, except for when I was running my fingers through Daiti’s silken mane or holding my saber.

At that, my fists did clench, imagining what it would be like to have a saber in hand again—Erix’s saber, which lay hidden underneath the bed in my room at the palace. When it lay in plain sight, I found myself passing far too much time staring at it, imagining it still bathed in Lord Alasdar’s blood. It served as a reminder of the threat still posed to this city, urging me to train—to be ready for an attack. I hadn’t started training with the weight of a saber again since my injury, practicing my forms empty handed, so there was no point in leaving it out where it might taunt me, inviting me to dwell on why Erix, the Viper, had made no move to make peace and still threatened the Great City after everything we had endured.

“When I have seen cavalry from Doran, they always had reins to hold on to,” Calix observed, now awkwardly trying to stack his hands at the base of his stallion’s neck. Stump snorted and tossed his head.

I wrinkled my nose. “The clans only ever put fresh foals on lead ropes. We wouldn’t want to take away our mount’s ability to steer themselves. How else would they pick the best path?”

“I think most people believe the rider is supposed to guide the horse, not the other way around.” Calix sighed in defeat as Stump began shuffling sideways again, instead of walking parallel to the city wall we rode along.

I ducked behind them to the other side, straightening out their path again.

“Besides, you seem to control your horse well enough,” Calix pointed out once we rode side-by-side once more.

I stared down at Cail’s dappled neck, watching it bob as we walked. “She knows where I want to go,” I admitted. “But if I don’t follow her cues as much as she follows mine, we won’t work.”