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Her eyebrows rose. “They’re twins?”
“Not that you could tell, but yes. Carex betrayed his brother. He imprisoned Serpens in a tomb of iron and stone, killed his father and claimed the Fae magic the same night. He’s sat on the throne of Caladrius ever since. Which is why…” I started toward the stable. “I’ll explain while you learn to properly sit a saddle. There is no sense in wasting time.”
I chose the oldest, most sedate mare, had the stableboy saddle her, then sent him away before he drooled down the front of himself.
None of us had seen a High Fae like Anaria in a very long time.
She had all the regal grace of her mother, though Adele had lacked the girl’s steely composure. But Anaria had all her mother’s beauty, an oval face framed by pure silver hair, those odd, pale eyes glowing from the black kohl surrounding them. I much preferred this dress to the others. She looked fierce, and covered her up enough she didn’t send shivers of repulsion through me every time I had to look at her.
“Lead her over to the block, and get on from her left side.” I instructed, “No jerky movements, smooth and gentle.”
Anaria followed every command I gave her, her movements slow but steady, and when she was mounted, her hands on the reins, I stepped forward, my palms sweating.
I dreaded touching her.
No, I dreaded touchinganyfemale.
This wasn’t about Anaria, and it wasn’t about me. This was about not raising the king’s suspicions while we put the final stages of our plan into motion. And if I had to teach Anaria to ride, then that’s what I’d do.
I reached for her hand, intending to fix her grip on the reins, and she stopped me with a shake of her head.
“No Zor, I won’t put you through that. Just tell me what to change and I’ll do it.”
“Don’t grip them so tightly, let them lie loose between your fingers, otherwise, you’ll telegraph your nervousness to your mount.” She did as I instructed, “Now keep the reins taut, but don’t pull back, just enough pressure so she understands you are in control.”
Anaria did everything I told her to.
Never questioned, never faltered, only obeyed.
In ten minutes, she was trotting around the practice ring, her ass bouncing in the seat hard enough I knew she’d be hurting tomorrow. “Use the stirrups to push up.” I called out. “Again. And again.”
When she was comfortable with posting, I had her urge the mare to a smooth gallop and her hair slid free, flying in a white wave behind her, her pale eyes crinkling as she flew past me, her form nearly perfect.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was enjoying herself.
For a moment, I let myself drink in the sight, even my hatred of her kind falling to the wayside at the sheer joy painted on her face.
“Riding lessons?” Raziel took up position beside me, his dark gaze following her progress as she circled the far side of the ring. “You’re the fucking general of the Solarys army, not a stable hand.”
“I’m doing what’s necessary to make this work.” Anaria’s face tightened as she flew around the turn, the wide smile on her face faltering when she spotted Raz.
That’s when everything went wrong.
She jerked back on the reins, her body twisting in the opposite direction of the mares, before she was pitched off the saddle, arms pinwheeling as she went airborne.
I’d seen men go down in battle, killed in the most horrendous ways, but watching Anaria fly through the air struck fear into me like nothing else ever had.
I cursed myself for putting her in danger, for bowing to her demands and seating her on that fucking horse in the first place.
I dematerialized to intercept, but Raz was vaulting over the fence as if nothing would stop him from reaching her.
By the time I reappeared, exactly where she should have landed, Anaria was gone.
But on the ground, half buried in the dirt, was one of the iron bands.
39
ANARIA
