Refusing to look at him, she shifted, adjusting to Cinnamon’s width. His deep chuckle ran across her skin before clogging her throat. She hated the way she reacted to him. Hated what it made her. Grabbing at Cinnamon’s reins, she led her over to where his horse was and waited for him to mount. He did so with a grace that befitted his lean stature. He was more suited for Brielle with her thin frame.
“What’s his name?” Luci asked.
His answering smile was devastating.
“Grimsbane,” he said.
Luci stared at him.
“So my horse's name is Cinnamon, and your intimidating monstrous horse is named Grimsbane,” she said.
There would be no unrest in Meridea if the people could see their prince’s joy. He was the antithesis of pain and suffering. Charismatic and charming. Suddenly, the idea of staving off unrest through a royal wedding and subsequent tour wasn’t such a ludicrous idea. Yet he didn’t need someone at his side to alleviate the people’s unhappiness. Something deep inside Luci told her he could do that all on his own.
“I think it suits us, don’t you?” he asked.
She hated the way her lips pulled up and how hard she tried to fight against it.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve never been grim a day in your life,” she said.
He brought Grimsbane up beside her.
“Untrue. Once, I was very grumpy when I was eight and was told I couldn’t have more dessert.”
“How tragic for you,” she said.
He nodded, solemn. “I know, but persist we must.”
With a ridiculous wink, he clicked his tongue, and Grimsbane began trotting away. How could one man be infuriating and endearing all at once?
Tapping her heel gently into Cinnamon, Luci caught up within a few seconds, wind blowing back her hair that fought with its life to stay in the braid. It was the strangest sort of release, but as Prince Ira and Grimsbane picked up their pace, so did Cinnamon and she. Soon they were galloping past the gates and the uneven road that stretched infinitely out before them. A small town lay far in the distance at the base of the mountain, but other than that, it was just them, the wind, and the crisp spring air. Floral and fresh.
It was then she realized how closeted she’d felt in the castle. She missed the open greenery of Blythe that boasted preserved nature. She missed the sounds of the bird singing and the feel of the wind against her skin.
Throwing back her head, she closed her eyes and smiled. Holding one hand out while the other clutched Cinnamon's reins. It was tempting to let go entirely, but she was unprepared to fall off her horse.
When she opened her eyes, she found the prince watching her, a vacant smile on his face as he took her in. It was then she realized how ridiculous she must have appeared. She shifted in the saddle, feeling her cheeks warm.
He shook his head.
“None of that, try to keep up,” he called as he urged Grimsbane faster.
Despite herself, Luci smiled and vowed she would not lose to a spoiled prince on horseback.
Chapter twenty-one
The Stowaway
One of the most tragically beautiful myths is that of King Arthur and his queen. While he loved her well, her heart beat true when she met Lancelot. A complicated web of love and loss that begets the question, is it better to have loved and lost or to never have loved at all?
-Tales from Merida, Volume II
It was easy to forget the past as well as the grim future gathering around her when the air tasted like fresh grass and spring. There was a freedom carved into the green rolling hillsthat watched their ill-thought-out quest. Occasionally, a farm surrounded by cows and horses grazing idly would come into view, but since they passed the town of Foxglove, the world was blissfully empty. Like the dirt road they followed was made for them alone.
If it weren’t for Prince Ira’s obnoxious humming beside her, it would have been a particularly enjoyable experience.
“Must you?” Luci snapped.
It came out sharper than she’d meant it to. It wasn’t his fault Brielle was sick. Everything else might have been partially his fault, though.