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‘You’re of age now. Let’s not let this go to waste.’
When the first signs of womanhood appeared, the bidding started.
I had fetched a very high price — enough to pay for the burden of keeping me housed and fed. Or so I was told.
I couldn’t allow her to do the same to Rose. Not my Rose.
I’m creeping past my bed when Sigrid’s voice reaches my ears.
She motions for me to come closer, and I do, in spite of the time I’ve already lost. I ignore the voice in my head that tells me this may be the last time I see her.
“Where?” she barely croaks out, but I understand her meaning.
“I am going after him,” I answer honestly, careful to keep the emotion from my face.
She swallows hard, and I help her take a sip of water.
Her frail fingers apply the slightest pressure to my hand as she nods in understanding.
“So…so many --” Her words are interrupted by a coughing fit, so I help her sit up for another drink. It isn’t until she’s laying back down that she finishes.
“--thorns, but less than before.” She reaches for my face with a shaking hand, smiling through her pain while she touches my cheek.
This simple gesture nearly breaks me in two. I don’t deserve her kindness, but I treasure it, nonetheless.
Her words are an echo of what she’s said before. But this time, it’s different. It’s an unspoken understanding that there are layers to each of us. Broken pieces that make us who we are. And on some level, I get the feeling she understands me better now than she did then.
I’m just not so sure it’s a good thing.
Leif clears his throat behind me, the physician at his side once more.
“I’ll leave you to it,” I say, quickly removing myself from her side and heading out the door without looking back.
Chapter Thirty-Six
With all of the commotion in the castle, it doesn’t take much for me to sneak away into the stables. Maybe the guards don’t think I will actually leave, or maybe they don’t care.
I find Sarah at Gideon’s stall, where the latter is shuffling around impatiently. Khijhana casts Gideon another look that borders on disgust, clearly feeling that his behavior is beneath her. Her head reaches my elbow now, and I mentally amend my list of reasons why the guards didn't bother stopping me.
Sarah doesn’t question me when I ask her if Gideon can be ridden, and she doesn’t mince words or waste time helping me. She seems to sense my urgency, which isn’t altogether surprising. How many times has she been desperate to escape a situation?
While she helps me saddle my hestrinn, a look of warning fills her eyes, and she speaks in hushed tones.
“He is good horse, Lady. But he likes to lead. Let him run and he will stay behaved,” she cautions, showing me the best way to mount him and get back down again. She teaches me a few of her commands, easy ones that he is likely to follow, and gives me a final word of advice before I leave.
“He is fastest hestrinn here, faster than any I know, but he is wild. Listen to him, and let him tell you what he has need.” I don’t miss the worry in her voice, but I also don’t have time to stay to learn more.
Gideon may be a wild card, but he is fast, and he is mine.
We head in the direction of the freshest horse hooves, toward the mountains. There are two sets of tracks, so he likely took one of the guards. At least he isn’t completely reckless.
Gideon seems pleased to be free from the stables and running through the snow. Sarah wasn’t wrong. He is fast, faster than even his size accounts for, faster than any horse I've ever ridden. If I was worried about the hour or so I had lost exploring in the king's absence, I'm not really nervous about it now.
Fortunately, the snow has stopped falling, so their hestrinn have left deep, clearly marked hoof prints in the blanket of snow, easy for even me to follow.
Gideon is remarkably easy to steer, as long as I let him set his own pace, and he soon seems to see that we are following the marks left by the other hestrinn. There is little for me to do but keep my seat, leaving my mind free to wander.
Which is never a good thing.
