A Royal Ruse

Chapter 14

The Riding Lesson

After dragging out her morning routine for as long as humanly possible, Zita finally emerged from her room. With each sluggish step toward the stables, the princess cursed her fate.

She would have rather spent the day floating in the bubbly memories of Gadrian's company. But instead, she was trudging across the stone oven called the palace courtyard, preparing herself for a day spent in the decidedly un-bubbly presence of Prince Adair. Her mouth curled into a sneer, feeling as spiteful as the heat.

"Good morning, Your Highness."

The sneer on Zita's face only chiseled deeper as she watched Prince Adair stride across the courtyard. She stiffened her posture, quilled as a porcupine at the sight of him drawing near.

She made a lukewarm attempt to soften her expression and nodded at him; the closest thing to a greeting she could manage.

They walked side by side in painful silence. Their footsteps fell in sync as they walked the grassy stretch of land that led to the stables.

"How was your day at the Sildyn Tower?" he asked.

"Fine," Zita replied, eyeing him sideways.

A shard of sunlight pierced into his eyes making them look meltingly critical as he squinted. This expression combined with his attempt at casual conversation made Zita highly suspicious.

"Good," he punctuated.

Mingling discomfort and sweat trickled down the princess' spine. Adair had never bothered with pleasantries before and the princess discovered she preferred it that way. Zita sighed, already bracing herself for a riding lesson as painful as his attempt at small talk.

They reached the stables in all its hay-filled, dung-smelling glory. A stablehand with a thick neck and shifty eyes held the reins of two horses, already brushed and buffed for the lesson.

Adair waltzed up to claim a deep chestnut horse. "This is Aster," he said, stroking its placid face.

"That's your horse, Mandek." he tilted his chin towards the other horse whose coat was the color of a wheat field at noon.

The stablehand picked out an apple from a nearby bucket and handed it to the princess.

"Oh, no thank you, I've already had breakfast."

"It's for the horse," Adair said, his face disapproving. Turns out his eyes looked just as critical in the shade.

The princess took the apple, tensely masking her embarrassment with a smile. She timidly approached the horse.

Mandek's muzzle eagerly reached out for the apple, taking a huge chomp of it the second it came near enough.

The princess watched the horse in fearful admiration. After seeing it was more absorbed in eating the apple than it was in harming her, she drew nearer.

"I'll be honest with you," she whispered into Mandek's black — and frankly bored-looking — eye, "I didn't know horses ate apples."

"Alright," the sound of Adair's voice, droning and authoritative, cut the bonding moment short. "You two are acquainted now. Let's begin." He marched towards the pen.

He walked like a man who had never questioned his footsteps in his life. Zita envied how certain he was that he would be followed.

It surprised Zita to find out that Adair was not a bad teacher. He proceeded patiently, leading her around the pen, teaching her commands that the horse seamlessly obeyed. Not before long Zita was confidently leading Mandek out of the pen and around the palace grounds.