“Acting nonchalant over a matter this exciting will not impress anyone.” Ariane blinked as they entered the shaded stables. The unfamiliar smell of hay and leather washed over her as horses nickered and stamped their legs.
“What is there to be excited about?” Lucien asked. “We get to see a bloodthirsty killer. Huzzah.”
The selkie princess had brought a Kelpie—the first to ever be domesticated, if that was the right word—with her to Chanceux. As water horses were a species that normally preyed upon anything in the sea, humans included, it wasn’t a creature many survived seeing. So when the princess had mentioned her unusual mount, the royal representatives and nobles—who had spent the past week determining the fate of their continent—eagerly clamored for the chance to see it.
“This way,” Princess Dylan called. She had been arm-in-arm with her female friend, but she released her and hurried to the back of the stables.
Ariane, Colonel Friedrich, Queen Linnea, Mage Firra, Mage Donaigh, and several others followed the sea princess—albeit with a great deal more concern.
The water horse was black with a damp mane and tail that were both cloud gray. Its eyes were glazed white, and gray dapples covered its hindquarters. A fishy aroma wafted from it, and bits of dried seaweed stuck to its legs.
It glared and bared its teeth at its cautious audience.
Princess Dylan ignored its bad temper and slipped into its stall to dump several buckets of water over its back. The horse sneered at the observers and lunged at Colonel Friedrich, narrowly missing the Erlauf prince’s arm.
Dylan lightly slapped the carnivorous equine’s neck. “Watch yourself. That’s no way to act,” she scolded.
Ariane held her breath, but the kelpie didn’t mind the admonishment. Instead, it pushed its muzzle into Princess Dylan’s curly hair and breathed deeply several times.
“It’s incredible,” Ariane said in awe. She had never seen a kelpie before—she had never wanted to; they occupied her “creatures to avoid” list with wyverns and dragons. But seeing Princess Dylan with the water horse—even if it was still mostly wild and bloodthirsty—made it beautiful.
“It’s a man eater,” Lucien said dryly.
Prince Callan—Dylan’s fiancé—laughed at Lucien’s observation. “It’s a dangerous beast for anyone but Dylan, but I’ve learned it’s just as dangerous to try and keep it from her.” The prince winced and rubbed his left forearm. “It broke into the palace once when she went too long without visiting it. I’ll see to it that never happens again.”
“He is like the sea.” Dylan dragged the kelpie’s muzzle from her hair and pressed her cheek against it. “Dangerous but beautiful.” She patted his neck and pushed his mane over the crest. Her forehead wrinkled as she pointed out a crescent-shaped patch of missing hair. “Were you bitten?” She murmured.
As if he could understand her, the kelpie turned its head and glared at the animal that occupied the only stall near it—a giant, horse-sized donkey.
The donkey mindlessly chewed his hay but swiveled its ears. When it noticed the kelpie sneering at it, it released a deep-gutted bray—which sounded a bit like a rusty door slamming shut.
The kelpie snorted and thrust its head into Princess Dylan’s arms, though it still glared at the donkey, plotting its revenge.
“I believe that animal is Pricker Patch,” Queen Linnea said. “It belongs to Craftmage Stil. Given its owner, I am unsurprised it was bold enough to pick a fight with a kelpie.”
“It’s a surprise the kelpie didn’t kill it,” Lucien yawned. “It could have easily broken its neck. Stop that,” he complained when Ariane jiggled the cushion.
Ariane stepped backwards, edging away from the continuing conversation.
“What do you feed it?” Mage Donaigh asked.
“Fresh fish mostly, but it will eat squid or octopus,” Princess Dylan said.
The conversation soon fell out of hearing range as Ariane admired the beautiful horses that filled the guest stables.
“Up ahead is one of Rider Nareena’s horses.” Though Lucien sounded incredibly bored, Ariane did not miss the way he propped himself up so he could view the animals better.
“Which one?” Ariane asked.
“Here.” Lucien pointed a frog leg at a large horse that was a deep black color. It had feathery black hairs that covered its hooves, and its mane and tail were elaborately braided, but in the shade of the stables, there was almost a purple glow to its fur—like a crow’s feathers.
Ariane studied the horse with a thoughtful frown.
The horse, in turn, shifted to study her.
“There’s something about it that seems…different,” Ariane said.
“I should think so,” Lucien snorted. “The King’s Riders are all given horses by the elves. They are far smarter and have superior physical abilities than even the best bloodlines of human domesticated horses.”
Ariane glanced down at Lucien. “How do you remember all this?”
Lucien blinked up at her with his large, bulbous eyes. “Remember what?”
“Everything.” Ariane said. “You memorized every person who is attending the summit—even if you didn’t know them beforehand. I cannot fathom being able to do that.”
Lucien snorted. “Memorizing is simple. Even a fool could do it.”
Ariane tilted her head as she studied the elf horse. “Which begs another question, why do you do that?”
“Is there a reason why you have suddenly grown unable to give specifics today?”
“Why do you pretend to be silly and foolish, when you’re actually clever?”
“That is where you are incorrect. I’m actually not clever.”
“Yes, you are.” Ariane strolled from the stables—falling silent for a moment when they passed a group composed of Prince Severin, Rider Nareena, and Emperor Yevgeniy. “Throughout the Summit, I’ve seen proof multiple times. You might pretend to nap or be bored, but you listen and grasp what’s happening. No matter how you protest, you are intelligent. So why the act?”
Lucien was silent for several moments.
Did I push him too far?
“Because there isn’t really a point,” Lucien said finally. “Severin is brilliant. Whatever I come up with will be inferior. I need him.”
“Because you fear you aren’t as brilliant as Severin, you don’t even try?” Ariane asked.
“Why should I make myself live with the knowledge of always being the second-best?”
“Because you’re not.” Ariane snorted. “You catch many things that Prince Severin does not.”
“What are you talking about?”
Ariane paused in the shade of a large tree. “Your memory. Normal people don’t remember everything like you do. They don’t remember the faces and names of all the servants in the palace. They don’t have entire books memorized. Yes, Prince Severin can manage the military better than anyone else…but he sees the world with eyes of strategy and tactics. You see the individuals.”