Apollo

Chapter Fifteen

A/N Warning: drama ahead. Brace yourself!

THE THREE TALKED FOR A GOOD HOUR BEFORE IT CAME TIME FOR THE twins to proceed to meet with David Arden at the Arden house. They would be travelling there on horseback, and Emmeline in particular was thrilled to finally go riding with her brother again. It had been far too long since they had last gone galloping into the woods by Lockhart Manor together with the wind in their faces and laughter streaming from their lips, and she was grinning as she stood to announce that she was going to change into a riding habit.

    Penelope was in her bedroom when she arrived – there was a pair of black leather gloves already laid out, and she was holding a pair of boots in her hand, eyes flitting between the two as she puzzled over whether they were the best options possible to find in Emmeline's selection of accessories.

    "Ah, my lady!" she greeted merrily, relief flooding onto her face when she saw the princess standing at the door with an amused smile on her slightly tinted lips. "What colour would you like to wear?—Are black gloves and boots all right?"

    The princess laughed. "I think I would fancy powder blue today. The gloves are fine, Penny, and those boots are lovely. Thank you."

    And so the lady in waiting retrieved the necessary articles of clothing – a tailored shirt, a formal jacket and a long skirt, all in the delicate shade of azure which had been requested, coupled with a matching top hat which had a veil attached at the brim and an fragile-looking gold necklace to complete the outfit. The necklace was a chain of small golden flowers, and it had been Lady Anne Lockhart's before it belonged to the princess. She helped Emmeline change out of her dress and into the habit, assisting her with her gloves and shoes as well. Then she braided her black hair, pinning little blue flowers in it after she was done. Then the hat went onto the princess's head, the veil not concealing her smile.

    "Thank you, Penny," she exclaimed, "I look wonderful!"

    "My pleasure, my lady," the younger girl replied with a bright smile to match Emmeline's. "I have instructed one of the stable boys to lead Allegro and Aurel to the gate. We will meet Lord Portsmouth there."

    "Excellent, Penelope. I can always depend on you to arrange things so splendidly." She was still smiling softly as she stood. "Shall we be on our way now? I should not like to be late."

    The duo went on their way to the gates, where Emmeline ran to greet her lovely black stallion. He seemed happy to see her, snorting as he buried his nose in her shoulder. She laughed, running her hands up and down his sleek neck affectionately. He was a stallion, but never aggressive towards her. She had, after all, been the one to save him from castration when he was but a wee colt, throwing herself over him when she herself had only been but a child and begging her father not to harm him. "Maybe I should castrate you, too, Father, for the danger that you might one day lay a hand on me!" she had shouted, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She was but a child, and did not know what castration truly was, but she knew that it would involve taking a knife to the poor horse, and that it only happened to males because of their temperament. The statement made his father's heart soften and his lips twitch in the direction of a grin (for, despite his better sensibilities as a grown nobleman, it was after all quite amusing to hear a wee lass threatening to castrate her own father), and he found himself left with no choice but to give in to her. Since then Allegro had been her charge – for William Lockhart had decreed that she would bear responsibility for any wrong he might ever do. After all, his possible aggression would have been a direct result of her pleas.

    The stable boy, who was holding the reins, switched the halter for a bridle in preparation for the princess. Allegro was already saddled, and the prospect of being ridden by his beloved mistress again after so long made him stamp his hooves against the cobblestone in anticipation.