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“Lord Richard!”

To the right, amidst the dust kicked up by the horses, I discern a youth with black hair and lively brown eyes. The Duke of Winterbourne’s second son, undoubtedly, pushing his steed forward.

Richard tilts his head slightly and responds with a cordial tone, though not overly so. “Lord Lionel Durant.”

“My father desires that you join him.”

“Go on, Richard,” the Viscount interjects.

He tightens his grip on the reins; young Lionel, noting the hesitation, moves his horse aside with a fluid gesture, opening a path.

Richard sighs. “We shall see each other at the first field, gentlemen.”

With a light nudge to his horse, he follows the young boy.

We advance along the path, I attempt to concentrate on the terrain before me, but my treacherous gaze falls repeatedly upon him and his black steed. The animal’s blind eye catches my attention every time the sun illuminates it, and I cannot help but tighten the reins slightly.

“You have a fine horse, Viscount,” Laurence interjects.

“I thank you...” he replies, slightly uncertain.

“You may call me Laurence.”

“I thank you, Mr. Laurence.”

“Your horse is blind,” I say abruptly.

“But I am not.”

“What is your horse’s name, Viscount?”

Laurence, why all this familiarity?

“Étoile,” he answers, passing a hand over the horse’s neck.

I feel my limbs stiffen and cast a sharp look at Laurence to suggest he hold his peace.

He remains impassive, however, a slight smile upon his lips.

“What a coincidence.”

That valet of his asks, surprised, “Coincidence?”

The Viscount slowly turns his head toward me.

“My steed is named Zvezda.”

He lifts an eyebrow, the gesture is delicate and imperceptible, but a breath of wind is enough to dishevel his hair, emphasizing it all.

Damn it.

“It means... star.”

I pull away, overtaking him.

The procession comes to a halt at the outer boundary of the designated woods. The valleys immediately take the reins, leading the horses to a secluded, sheltered area, far from the bustle and the shots that will soon echo. Laurence hands me the rifle.

“You appear somewhat annoyed, my lord.”