Chapter 11
Gwen
I stepped into the stables, the sound of my walking stick loud on the cobbled floor.
As much as I’d wanted to avoid a physician, when the swelling in my ankle only got worse, I knew I didn’t have much of a choice.
It had taken me a few days to get used to my new walking aid and my wrist was hurting terribly from carrying most of my weight, but at least the pressure was off my ankle, which helped a little.
It was quite annoying that I wouldn’t be able to ride for a while, though. But at the very least I could come and see how the mare was doing. She did, after all, get just as big a fright as I did.
Hobbling through the stables, I didn’t notice the stable boy anywhere, and I wondered if he was out training one of the other horses.
Luckily, I knew my way around pretty well by now.
The air smelled of fresh hay and leather.
It took me a while, especially considering the size of the royal stables, but I eventually managed to reach the stall of the grey mare.
I hadn’t seen her in one of the paddocks outside, which had to mean she was still in here, recovering.
Huffing out a breath, I peeked over the heavy, dark wood door. The sweet little mare happily grazed on a bale of lucerne, appearing unbothered. I also found the stable boy, with his back towards me, bent over the horse’s hoof.
My arm reached just far enough over the door to pet the horse’s head.
“I was wondering where you were,” I told the shy boy, who had to be quite a few years younger than me. He had a stable master who oversaw him, but most of the time he did a pretty good job of taking care of all these horses. I hoped they treated him well.
The boy with the dark hair stilled, obviously startled by my sudden presence behind him, though I was sure, with my walking stick, he could have heard me coming for miles.
“It’s really not fair that I won’t be able to ride her for a while now.
I hope whatever farrier did her shoes got into big trouble for not doing them properly,” I said earnestly.
I felt quite sorry for the mare despite how happy she looked to be staying in the warm stables with the extra food and attention.
“He definitely did,” the stable boy said, with a voice that did not belong to him. He stood up, taller than he’d been before, and it took me a moment to realise that it was, in fact, not the stable boy standing there, covered in hay and dust.
Prince Lance turned to face me. “We’ll have to find something else for you to ride then.”
He was dressed unlike I’d ever seen him before. Gone were his lavish clothes made of expensive fabrics. Instead, the prince before me wore a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of well-worn riding breeches. No wonder I’d momentarily mistaken him for the stable boy.
“What?” I blurted out.
“One of the other horses.” He cleared his throat. “You can pick any of the other horses to ride when your ankle is better.”
“What are you doing here?” A piece of hay had got caught in his hair. He looked so unlike the prince I knew.
“I came to take a look at Bessie’s hoof.” Lance gestured to the mare standing behind him.
“I can see that. But why? Don’t you have servants for this kind of thing?”
“Well, yes,” he said almost hesitantly. “But I wanted to see for myself. She is my horse, after all.”
My throat had gone dry. His horse?
All this time, I’d been riding his horse.
My face scrunched up in anger at the stable boy, who’d apparently forgotten to inform me of this very important detail.
“Your horse?”
Lance nodded. “Bessie’s been in the family for quite some time, haven’t you, girl?” He patted her neck, and I almost started looking around in case the prince also had a twin, because this definitely wasn’t Lance.
“Are you all right?” He must have seen my shocked expression.
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “Yes, I am. It’s just . . . I’m surprised to see you here.”
“I used to come here a lot when I was younger. Haven’t been riding much in the past few years, though.”
I decided to steer the conversation quickly away from him. “How’s she doing?”
Lance looked at Bessie’s hoof and then back to me. “It’s getting better. She should be fine soon.”
“Well, I . . .” I wasn’t sure how to approach this. “I apologise for injuring your horse.” I disliked every word that left my mouth. I wouldn’t want to apologise to him for anything if I could help it. But I did feel bad for Bessie.
“It’s not your fault.” Lance shrugged. “Just getting a new farrier.”
I took a step back with my walking stick. “I’d better get going.” I didn’t know what was going on with Lance but he was acting weird.
“Your Highness!” the stable boy called out, running towards us. There you are, you little rat, I thought. He stopped in front of Bessie’s stall, out of breath. “It’s happening, Your Highness.”
“All right, I’ll be there in a moment.”
The boy gave a small bow, running back in the direction he’d come from.
Lance opened Bessie’s stall door and stepped out.
“What’s happening?” I asked, not being able to curb my curiosity.
“One of the mares is having a foal.”
“Really?”
Lance seemed to ponder for a moment before he asked, “Do you want to see?”
“Uhm.” I hesitated. I’d never seen a foal being born before. “Uhm, okay.”
I hobbled on after him, trying not to take note of the fact that his lean chest was visible through the thin material of his shirt.
We reached one of the stalls at the end and I looked over the door to see a light bay mare lying in the straw.
Lance went in, then looked back and held the door for me. “Come on.”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“It’ll be fine.”
I didn’t want to come across as some kind of coward, so I stepped inside.
He knelt down next to the horse and stroked her head. “Hey, girl,” Lance said in a voice that was almost gentle, and I once again contemplated who this man was and what had happened to the real Lance. His hand moved to her big belly and lingered there.
“Everything all right?” I asked, nervously.
“Think so.”
“Do you deliver baby horses often, then?”
Lance met my gaze with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Not really.”
Well, okay then.
“Here you go, Your Highness.” The stable boy entered and handed Lance a bucket of water and a sponge.
“Thanks, lad.” The boy scurried off to whatever duty he had to perform next, and I watched as Lance soaked the sponge and patted it on the horse’s neck, which glistened with sweat.
“How do you know what to do?” I made myself comfortable, leaning back against the stable wall.
“I don’t really,” Lance replied honestly, and my worry grew for the poor mare, who appeared to be in pain.
I wondered if we should call someone who might actually know what they were supposed to do.
But then I had to remind myself that horses probably didn’t require all the help that humans tend to.
Lance continued trying to cool down the mare with the wet sponge. Part of me wanted to pet her as well, if only to reassure her. But that would require a very awkward manoeuvre with my injured ankle and then I would unfortunately be much closer to Lance. So, I chose to remain standing.
“Bessie’s a very sweet horse.” Almost too sweet for a person like him. It was a wonder she hadn’t bucked him off repeatedly. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at the mental image of Lance being thrown off a horse.
“She’s an old horse now but she was a gift from my mother.
Bessie’s the least temperamental horse I’ve ever come across.
She’s always had a lot of patience with me.
My mother once said that she reminded her of an old milk cow that she had while growing up.
The cow’s name was Bessie, and I guess it just kind of stuck.
” I knew Lance’s mother died when the twin princesses were born.
He must have been very young, but it must be hard for anyone to lose a mother at that age.
Crazy as my mother could drive me sometimes, she was still my mother.
Thatcher was never very close to our mother, and I wondered what she made of all of this.
She must have been shattered to find out what he’d done.
I was unsure how to respond to Lance, the conversation suddenly feeling more personal than I would like.
“If I’d known she was your horse, I wouldn’t have taken her out riding every day.”
“It’s good that you did,” he said, surprising me. “Someone should be riding her.”
I knew I shouldn’t be getting attached to horses that weren’t mine. But now, knowing she was Lance’s horse, and probably one of the last things his mother had ever given him, I didn’t think I’d have the courage to get on her again.
The horse let out a whinny and tossed her head. Surely it wouldn’t be much longer now.
Lance and I waited for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. I felt my anxiety grow, hoping the mare and the foal would both be okay.
The mare started making grunting noises and my heartbeat quickened.
“It’s time.” Lance continued stroking her head and neck as the light bay mare started pushing out the little foal.
With each noise she made, I cringed in pain for her, until finally the baby horse emerged, and I felt myself breathe for the first time in minutes.
It was certainly not the most pleasant thing I’d ever seen, but the mother and foal were both alive at least. Lance stood back and allowed the mare to get up and reach for her baby.
“It’s a boy,” Lance noted after the two of us had stood there staring at them for a few minutes.
“What are you going to name him?”
Lance looked over at me with those icy eyes. “You should name him.”
“Me?”
“It’ll probably be a hell of a lot better than whatever I can come up with. Poor Bessie is stuck with a cow’s name for the rest of her life.”
I suppressed a chuckle, thinking about it for a moment.
“He looks like he’s going to be fast when he grows up. What about Windchaser?”
He looked at the foal, tilting his head. “That could work.” He kept his face neutral, but somewhere underneath that cold exterior, I swore I could see a hint of a smile.