Queen of Shattered Dreams

14 - Reunion

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I slip out of the castle early and make my way to the stables. After the fight with Feodor last night, the palace is the last place I want to be. Prince Dashel will be here for at least a week and the less time we spend together, the safer for me. The head groomsman helps me saddle my horse. I mount and make my way out of the stable, through the courtyard.

The sun has just begun its ascent into the sky, the birds are beginning to chirp awake and the world is shaking off the dark of night. I enjoy this time of day, it's quiet. The kind of quiet full of potential as the world prepares to wake. At this time of day, I feel like the world is mine and mine alone. That is, with the exception of Vlad, who is not far behind on his own horse. One has to wonder if he ever sleeps and how he knows when I'm leaving the castle. I glance back, waiting for him to notice, and then offer him a big grin before pressing my heels into the side of my horse and taking off toward the fields.

My hair whips behind me in the chill morning air and I urge my horse on faster. I don't check to see if Vlad is keeping up, he does or he doesn't. This is my moment of happiness. Like he told me years ago, I have to find things that make it worth it. Running free, away from the palace, doesn't undo the pain of last night, but the exhilaration coursing through my body is almost enough to make me forget.

I may be queen in title only, and Feodor is right, there's not much I can do. But I can do this. I grip the reins and prepare to jump a small hedge when my horse stumbles and I'm thrown over his head. The world spins before turning upside down and then all I see is the sky. It takes a moment for the pain to register and then another for my breath to catch up to me.

"Mila!" Vlad calls, his voice distant. My face is scrapped and tender. My back hurts, but I don't think it's broken. There's a stabbing pain coming from my ankle. I sit up, reaching a hand to rub it.

Vlad comes sliding to a stop beside me. "Are you hurt?"

I lie to him with a shake of my head.

He helps me stand, wiping dirt from my shoulders and inspecting my body for breaks. When his eyes travel to my face he stops. My face was injured to begin with this morning but as we hadn't spoken, I doubt he saw that. I can't imagine what it must look like now—a bruised cheek, a swollen and cut lip, fresh scrapes. I must be a mess. I instinctively bring a hand up to smooth my hair and end up picking bits of grass and dirt out of it. Vlad surprises me by putting a hand against my cheek as he looks over the bruises and scrapes. His thumb gently rubs against the cheek King Feodor slapped last night, as though he knows that injury isn't from the fall. The gesture is too intimate though and I take a step backward, wincing as I apply weight to my injured ankle.

"There's no need to fuss." I act as though the attention over my cuts is what made me step away and not his affection. Because Vlad looks hurt by my action and I don't want to hurt him, but I don't want to give the wrong impression either. "How's my horse? What made him stumble?"

Vlad seems grateful for the moment to recover from—that and inspects my horse. "He's thrown his shoe, ma'am."

His formality makes me wonder if he had said my name when I fell. Maybe he said, "Milady." I can't be sure. I try not to think about his hand on my cheek but the more I try the more it becomes my main thought. With the exception of the day we met when he inspected my bruised wrist, he's never touched me. We have our light conversations when I go into the gardens and he is keeping an eye out, but he's never been too familiar with me. We've become friends and his actions were like those of a friend, they just weren't like Vlad.

"We should take him to the blacksmith then," I say of the horse.

"I need to take you back to the castle first. You must lie down."