Page 92 of Ravenrose

I force my breaths to steady.

“Relax your legs,” he says, his tone almost patient now. “The reins guide him, but most of the communication between horse and rider is here.” Ayer’s hand trails a fraction lower, just grazing the exposed skin of my thigh.

I lift my chin, pretending not to notice and doing my best to slow my heart rate as it races again.

“Squeezing with your legs tells him to go—to run. Relaxed legs and steady hands—tells him he’s safe.”

It’s true. The more I follow Ayer’s instructions, the more Dash settles beneath us, falling into a steady, calm, and predictable gait.

After a few more minutes of calm, Ayer quietly takes the reins back from me.

“Hold on,” he warns before I feel him squeeze his legs behind mine, quickening Dash’s pace until we’re caught up with the rest of the group.

By the time my breathing finally steadies, exhaustion has claimed what little strength I had left. With every mile, I lean a little more of my weight against Ayer, too tired to stop myself.

Because falling off the horse would be inconvenient.

He’s there. I need the support.

That’s all.

Chapter 41

ROWAN

The day drags on, the late afternoon bringing a bit of frost in the air.

But I feel better.

The worst of the red fever symptoms have eased. The dizziness no longer threatens to dump me from the saddle with every other step.

And I’ll never admit it… but I’m thankful that I’m not fighting for my life behind Dash for the day.

But as my symptoms and crushing exhaustion fade away, they’re replaced with something else… boredom.

And pain.

We’ve been riding for hours—all day. Apparently, Ayer is attempting to make up some of the lost time from yesterday by not stopping for breaks today. My body aches, sore from both the journey and the saddle. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to sit still.

Ayer is silent as we ride, and after all the excitement of this morning… it’s nothing but trees and dirt—and more trees and dirt.

I first attempt to distract myself by trying to loosen the ropes still tied tightly around my wrists. I move carefully—as discreetly as possible to avoid Ayer’s notice, using the pommel of the saddle in front of me for leverage.

Gods, Ayer tied them so tight today. Blood stains my skirts, the skin even more irritated after days of abuse.

If I could loosen them… just a smidge...

Determined, I place my hands on either side of the saddle’s pommel, attempting to force it between the ropes, hoping to create just a little bit of space. But I have to be subtle; I don’t want to catch Ayer’s attent⁠—

“Stop it.”

After being silent for hours, his sudden bark right next to my ear, and my resulting flinch, nearly sends me careening to the ground.

But his arm wraps around my waist just in time to keep me in place.

I recover quickly, gripping the saddle like it’s all I was intending to do the entire time.

“I didn’t do anything.” My words pour out far too rushed to be completely innocent.