Chapter 29
I was beyond thrilled when Aegir asked me to join him for the Graind Races.
To be his servant, of course, but still, I wore my white dress and carefully braided my hair.
As I weaved, I remembered the frustration I had felt when I was locked in the laundry room during the last two Graind Races. It made me appreciate today even more.
The setup was exactly as I remembered. I had almost forgotten how striking the seating areas were, carved—or rather wielded—directly into the rocky sandstone, surrounding half of the racetrack.
At its middle were twenty-five skyboxes, five atop of five, for royals and other important people.
I gleamed when Aegir told me that we would soon be seated in one of those.
From afar, I caught the sight of Eldric and the rest of the Vanguard lounging in two of the royal cubicles. They drank ale while eyeing the ladies, especially the three princesses of Lady Nadania, of course.
To our right was a long wooden table piled with all kinds of food and beverages.
To our left was an overly crowded betting stall.
I must admit that the betting part of it was just as thrilling.
And the Graind prizes were no joke. Those who bet on the right horses in all four categories were rewarded handsomely.
Aegir wanted us to walk for a while, so I followed him around, imitating his shadow’s behaviour. I asked if he wanted me to get him anything from the food station.
“No, I’m all right, but if you want, you can go get something for yourself.”
“I cannot,” I told him, showing him my brown cup filled with water. “Servants can only drink one of these and we are not allowed to eat anything from the tables.” Then I whispered, “That’s why I had a good breakfast this morning.”
“Then get me a pint of ale,” he ordered.
I went near the drinks station and reached for a tankard.
“Delia!?” a familiar voice called from the opposite side of the stall. “I thought that was you. I haven’t seen you in—in forever! You look…wow. You look great. How—how have you been?”
Well, I certainly hoped that I looked great. I had been stuffing myself thrice a day, training for long hours, and riding my mare for the past month.
“Ismail, hi. Yes, it’s been long. I’ve been quite busy. How about you? Are the horses treating you all right?”
He flashed a dimpled smile, then said, “Ruckson is still as you often called him, a sweetheart, but you should see Illy”—Illy, the once tiniest, cutest little foal in all of Lyrantheia.
I forced myself not to grimace at the reminder of that night—“he thinks he’s the boss of everyone now and he eats everything.
But on the whole, I’m doing pretty good. ”
I forced a laugh, then let it break into a weak chuckle. “Good to hear you’re doing all right.”
Ismail leaned over the stand that separated us.
“Well, I’m not that all right. Delia, I—I often think about how we left things.
You should come by the stables sometime, we could talk and perhaps…
straighten things out. Oh, and I’m sure the horses would remember you, especially Ruckson.
I’m certain he had a soft spot for you. In fact, if you’d like, perhaps if you’re not too busy, you could maybe come by…
uh…uh…whenever you want.” His smile faded with every stuttered word, and he straightened himself, taking a step back.
“I have to go, it was really nice to see you.”
I didn’t have to turn around to know who stood at my back. The slight drop in temperature confirmed it.
“You scared him away.” It came out as a soft comment.
“Who’s he?”
“A stableman,” I replied, turning around to hand him his pint.
“I could see that from his attire. Who is he…to you?”
“He’s an old friend I met at the main stables.”
“A friend?”
“Yes, a friend.”
“Just a friend?”
I raised an eyebrow at him and walked towards a quieter area. He followed. Then I asked, “Does it matter?”
“He was drooling all over you.” Aegir’s words reminded me of Semuel and Faern’s teasing.
“So? You don’t see me asking questions about the women drooling over you,” I countered.
“When have you ever seen a woman drool over me?” he asked, his tone sounding genuinely convinced.
“Seriously?” I raised both brows.
“Yes, seriously.”
“Have you forgotten about the heavy-breasted waitress at the inn?” I asked, crossing my arms. Not to mention the way Princess Yasmina was looking at you like you were her final meal.
I did not say that sentence, though. I didn’t say it lest he notice her.
Them. The three princesses of Lady Nadania were the true definition of perfection.
All with beautiful faces and perfect figures, always wearing the finest dresses and jewellery.
“Were you jealous?” he purred.
“No, of course not,” I quickly replied. “And do you know why I never asked you anything about her whispers?” A brow-raised pause. “Because it’s none of my business.”
“But I have questions,” he cooed. I only gave him a simpering smile followed by a shrug. “Mmm, shall I interest you in a bargain, perhaps?”
“What kind of bargain?” I asked, a bit too eagerly.
“How about two questions for two?”
“Go on.”
“You’ll allow me to ask you two questions about the stableboy, and I’ll allow you to ask me two questions in return. Truthful answers only, of course.”
“Any two questions?”
“Mmm, sure.”
“Deal. You go first.”
“Did you share a bed with him?”
“Really?” My eyes widened and I walked as far away from listening ears as possible. He followed me behind an abandoned wooden stand.
“Yes, really.”
I let out an exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Fine,” I said. “A stable stall, once.”
I expected him to tease me about it but he didn’t. Then to my surprise, he asked, “Are you…in love with him?” And I swore that for a split second, I glimpsed a trickle of white mist forming along his lips. It was too fast for my human eyes, so I doubted them.
“No, I’m not. My turn now.” He gestured to go ahead. “The book you gave me, was it really a gift from the market lady?”
“I think you already know the answer to that question.”
“But I want to hear it from you.”
“No, it didn’t come from her.” I had to force myself not to break eye contact.
“Second question. When we were at the inn, on the carpet, before we slept, you were going to ask me something…what was it?”
“I was expecting different sorts of questions.”
“You agreed to any questions.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Aegir let out a long breath before replying. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to be relieved from me. If you wanted me to ask for your replacement.”
“Oh…why didn’t you ask me then?”
“I’m afraid that’s three questions, Cordelia.”
“I should have bargained better,” I mumbled.
“No, I’m the one who should have bargained better. I should have limited your questions to the waitress.”
“If you had, I wouldn’t have agreed to bargain.”
“How come? Aren’t you at least a little bit curious about her whispers?”
“Not really. Joel had already told me what I needed to know,” I replied, simpering.
With an annoyed tone, Aegir grumbled, “I swear to Boreas, someday, I’m going to have to freeze that blabbermouth’s tongue.” But then he smiled—wickedly—and purred, looking my way, “Wait…you said you needed to know.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I almost snapped, my voice a note or two higher than I would have liked. “The betting stands will close once the show begins. We should hurry.”
Aegir’s nostrils flared as he looked around us.
He then snatched my cup and tossed the water onto the ground, as if—as if there wasn’t a water shortage crisis around us!
Then he filled my cup to its brim with his ale, and with a wink, said, “Here, don’t forget your water.
” My lip caught between my teeth, and my eyes batted as I reached for the cup.
Aegir returned with a betting sheet in hand. We sat on a side bench, sipping on our ale. I explained how the races worked—the four championships, which included the flat race, the long distance harness race, the steeplechase, and for the mares, the short distance flat race.
“Well, I don’t know who any of these horses are. You should be the one filling this.”
“Me?”
“Yes, of course you. I did say I needed your assistance, did I not?” I thought he meant to serve him drinks and refill his plates.
“I cannot be seen placing bets, especially with Mounir’s eyes lurking around.”
His lips pursed. “I wish you’d chosen differently for him. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. If you ever change your mind, I’ll—”
“I made my decision. Let’s just focus on the horses.”
I remembered the horses’ names. I knew which ones excelled in what.
I knew who had the most stamina, the most power, the most agility.
I was also certain that most would bet on MockRay—last year’s winner with a record time, the most powerful stallion and the one with unending endurance.
But earlier, when Ismail came close, I scented something I was quite familiar with.
Ismail was always the one in charge of the king’s competing horses.
“Are you sure with that one?” Aegir asked. “I’m hearing the name MockRay quite a lot.”
“I’m sure. Well, I’m almost sure. I think MockRay may be sore or stiff. They probably overworked him.”
“And how do you know all that?”
“Ismail—the stableman, he carried the scent of arnica and peppermint.”
Aegir gave me a wicked half smile. “Look at you, acting all Fae.” I was certain my cheeks heated at that comment. Then he asked, “What’s this?” pointing at the bottom two boxes.
“Oh, that’s for you to tick whether you would want to keep the prize for yourself or donate it.”
“I see. All right, wait here. I’ll go hand this over, then we’ll join the others.”