Talia flushed, but couldn’t help smiling. “He’s just being nice.”
“Obviously.” Ro’s eyes sparkled. “Shall I do something with your hair?”
Twenty minutes later, Talia left the house and crossed the courtyard to the stable, wearing a deep-red gown with a split riding skirt, her hair pinned up in a coronet of elaborate braids. She toyed with the fingers of one of the late Baronesses’ white gloves, and tried to ignore her nervousness.
She grasped the ring of the heavy wood door and slid it open.
The scent of hay and dust and horses assailed her senses, and she thought with a pang of home—she’d spent more time in the stable in Eddenahr than the palace, oftentimes with Ayah in tow. The Ruen-Dahr’s stable was small, with a low roof, four stalls, and a short aisle running to a door in the back, which Talia assumed was the tack room. A single lantern hung from a beam in the middle of the ceiling, illuminating the whole space in a dim orange haze.
Caiden was lounging against the first stall, rubbing his gelding’s black muzzle. He glanced toward the door at her approach, and flashed her a smile. “I was wondering if you were ever coming. I’ll bring him out.”
He clipped a lead to the horse’s halter and unlatched the stall door, leading the gelding into the aisle. Talia approached the horse quietly so she wouldn’t spook him. He eyed her under long black lashes but didn’t shy away.
“I’ll get his tack,” Caiden told her, walking to the back room.
“Beautiful boy,” Talia whispered into the horse’s ear, stroking his tautly muscled neck. He was as magnificent as his master, and a thrill went through her at the thought of riding him—here was raw power, barely contained. In her mind, Ayah made an inappropriate remark that had nothing to do with horses.
“He likes you,” Caiden noted, coming back with saddle and bridle.
“What’s his name?”
“Avial.”
“Where did you get him?” She kept petting the gelding as Caiden tacked him up, stroking his nose and velvety ears, tangling her fingers in his coarse mane.
“At the seaport last year. My father was angry at how much I spent on him, but I needed a good horse.”
“And he is that.”
Caiden grinned, cinching the saddle girth tight. “Well, Miss Dahl-Saida. Let’s see if you’re as good as you think you are.”
They brought Avial out to the drive and down a winding path to the seashore. Talia eyed Caiden at this choice, but he just shook his head, the reins looped around one hand. “I always ride down here. Don’t mind my father—he lives in a world of his own.”
“How old were you, when the second Baroness died?” she asked him, as he stopped to adjust Avial’s girth again.
He glanced up at her, patting the gelding’s flank. “Nine.”
“Do you remember much about her?”
He shortened Talia’s stirrups. “She was musical, like Wen, and a dreamer like him, too.”
She caught the implication in his tone. “You didn’t like her.” The wind blew her red skirt around her knees, its cold fingers seeking to tug her hair loose from its braided crown.
Caiden shrugged. “She wasn’t my mother. She was very kind to me, but I suppose I resented her.”
“And so you resented Wen, too?”
He raised one hand and brushed his windblown hair out of his eyes. “We’ve always had our differences, but I’ve never resented him. I just wish he wouldn’t let himself get so caught up in his mother’s beliefs. He’s convinced that the gods are real, that they inspire his music, that they had something to do with our mothers’ deaths. He can’t see the truth. He won’t see it.”
The words unnerved her. She felt a sudden affinity with Caiden; both of them were haunted by the shadows of things they couldn’t control. “My mother—my mother believed in the myths and the gods, too, and—and it drove her mad.”
He studied her, his dark eyes seeing deep. “I wish I could have met her.”
She clamped down on her lip to keep back the sudden press of tears, but one slid down her cheek anyway.
“Talia.” He turned to her, unexpectedly cupping one strong hand under her chin. His skin felt warm against her jaw, his thumb slightly rough as he brushed her tear away. “I’m so sorry,” he told her softly. “You have lost so much.”
She shuddered and leaned against him, and all at once he was wrapping his arms around her and she was crying hard into his chest. He held her tight, the wind wheeling about them and the black gelding lipping distractedly at Talia’s braids. Caiden nudged him off.
“Hey,” he said to Talia, not letting her go just yet. “Are you all right?”
She swallowed back another wave of tears, suddenly aware of his heartbeat just beneath her ear, of the strength in his encircling arms, the hardness of his chest. Of his scent: hay and earth and cedar. She jerked away and he released her, watching as she scrubbed the tears from her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said, forcing her voice not to shake. “I don’t normally sob on the shoulders of recent acquaintances.”
He gave her a quiet smile. “Don’t mention it.”
She gulped a breath of air and smiled back.
“Well then,” he said. “Enough stalling. Can you really ride this beast or was it all just talk?”
She laughed and he grinned at her.
He gave her a leg up and she settled comfortably into the saddle. “He’s a lot of horse. If you give him his head he’ll never stop running.”
“I’d expect nothing less from Enduena’s finest.”
Caiden caught her eye. “I’m not sure Avial is Enduena’s finest. Though you might be.”
She laughed and bent over the gelding’s neck, touching him with her heels. He leapt into motion and joy swept through her, cold wind singing past her ears. She urged Avial faster and faster, until his long strides matched the pace of her galloping heart.
She helped Caiden rub Avial down after his run, the lantern gleaming amber from the stable’s ceiling. She was giddy with the sensation of speed and freedom—she could still taste it on her tongue, feel it on her skin. Oh, she’d missed that.
Caiden brushed the gelding’s flank while Talia worked on his shoulder, Avial munching happily on some sugar cubes. He was as docile now as an old workhorse.
“I can’t believe how fast you were going,” said Caiden, shaking his head.
Talia glanced up to meet his eye. Her braids had shed their pins and tumbled free onto her shoulders. She tucked a few behind her ear. “Avial could almost match my Naia at home. I wish we could race them and see which one’s faster.”
“That would be grand.” Caiden moved to the gelding’s back, and Talia stepped around to the other side of him. “We’ll have to try it out, when you’re Empress and you’ve reclaimed everything that rightfully belongs to you.”
Talia chewed on her lip.
“You must think about it sometimes. How grand it would be, half the known world at your fingertips. I could help you, you know. We could be racing in the desert by summer.”
“You’d come with me?” she said in spite of herself.