Chapter 17 #2
“Oh, I’m very popular with the ladies,” he retorted, flashing a mischievous grin.
“Come on, I’ll help you up.” He extended his hand, inviting me to climb onto the horse.
“She is very friendly. Unless, of course, I don’t like you,” Glade taunted as Joy nuzzled against my hand, her soft fur brushing against my palm.
“Ah. Would you look at that? Guess I was wrong,” he added with a wink, clearly pleased with himself.
I chuckled, actually enjoying the banter for once. “Maybe she just has good taste,” I shot back, giving Joy a gentle scratch behind the ears.
The horse responded with a whinny, leaning into my touch.
Glade laughed, the sound echoing warmly throughout the yard. “Don’t get too comfortable; she might like you more than me.”
I angled toward Glade, ready for him to assist me onto the back of the horse. However, instead of lifting me onto Joy as Jion had done before, Glade directed me.
“Alright, put your left foot in the stirrup,” he instructed, pointing to the foothold, “and then swing your right leg over. It’s all in the hips.”
I nodded, trying to mimic his instructions as best I could. I placed my left foot in the stirrup and hesitated momentarily. “Like this?”
“Exactly! Now swing your leg over,” he encouraged.
Taking a deep breath, I did as he said. I swung my right leg around, and with a little wobble, I managed to settle onto Joy’s back.
“See? You did it!” Glade exclaimed, gazing at me with pride. “Not so hard. You’ve got this.”
He effortlessly mirrored my movements, mounting the horse with a grace that made me a little envious.
In an instant, his chest was pressed flat against my back, and I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
Unlike Jion, who smelled of cinnamon hearts and sweet desserts, Glade’s scent was earthy and grounding, reminiscent of an old forest full of wood, moss, and fresh soil.
As I inhaled his scent, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It reminded me of Earth. I closed my eyes for a moment, savouring the comforting aroma that seemed to wrap around me like a warm blanket.
“Ready?” Glade’s gravelly voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.
With that, Joy started to trot, and I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. The wind whipped through my hair, and for the first time in a while, I felt free.
However, with each stride of the horse, I became increasingly aware of Glade’s pelvis pressing against my bottom.
My face felt searingly hot, like an inferno, and I could feel the fire radiating through my cheeks, turning them into what I assumed was a deep, rosy hue.
I tried to focus on the scenery rushing by—vibrant green fields, the distant silhouette of the mountains—but my mind kept wandering back to the rushing sensation.
I shifted, trying to adjust my position to find some relief, but that only made things worse. Glade seemed oblivious, or he was simply too focused on guiding Joy along the path. I bit my lip, desperately trying to suppress the inappropriate thoughts that threatened to consume me.
As we neared the town, a picturesque creek wound its way beside us, its waters shimmering among the smooth boulders and delicate lily pads. We crossed an ancient wooden bridge, its weathered planks creaking beneath the horse’s stamps, and arrived at the charming entrance to the village.
Britavon’s town was a sensory delight, offering a fragrance that contrasted sharply with the city I hailed from.
The air was filled with the inviting scents of freshly baked bread, crackling firewood, and roasting meat.
It was easy to see why—dinner was quickly approaching.
The citizens took immense pride in their home and community, ensuring that the streets were free of garbage or debris.
As we passed a charming courtyard adorned with a grand porcelain circular fountain that gushed water in the centre, a group of children kicked a ball back and forth. However, one child spotted us, paused her game, and skipped over to Joy as we made our way along the pebbled walkway.
The child was around six years old, with long ginger braids cascading down her back and bright brown freckles dotting her cheeks.
She wore a green frock paired with knee-high white socks.
Giddily, she approached Joy, unperturbed by the horse’s impressive size, as if they were old friends meeting again.
Glade allowed Joy to continue trotting along the road but slowed her pace to watch the little girl skip toward us. He raised his chin, squinted, and tightened his lips into a hard line, feigning a posture of authority as if granting her permission to speak.
Instead of responding, she halted, planted her hands behind her back, squeezed her eyes shut, and stuck her tongue out at him.
Laughter erupted from the other children in the courtyard as she darted back to join her friends. Rather than taking offence, Glade chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in incredulity. I found myself both baffled and amused, unable to suppress a smile.
Glade was a prince, so wasn’t it incredibly rude for a child to address him in such a manner?
In many kingdoms back home, a child might even risk losing their tongue for such a blatant display of disrespect.
Yet here, the little red-headed girl treated him as if he were a mere playmate, comfortable and familiar in his presence.
“Who is she?” I asked, turning my head to catch a glimpse of Glade in my peripheral vision. As I did, his stubbled cheek brushed against mine, and I shrank back.
“A little pest, that’s who,” Glade replied with a grin, his amusement evident in the twinkle of his eyes.
As we strolled through the village, I observed that the townsfolk regarded Glade with a familiarity that was markedly different from the reverence they showed Jion.
While a few offered friendly waves, it was as if Glade were just another villager, blending seamlessly into everyday life.
He acknowledged them with polite nods, continuing his journey down the narrow roads, passing by vendors closing their stalls for the evening.
As darkness settled over the town, we approached a dimly lit alleyway at the far edge of the village. Nestled between two buildings stood a modest brown oak door, flanked by two lanterns casting a warm glow, beckoning us closer.
Glade dismounted Joy with an effortless grace, then turned to guide me through the process. I slid down the horse’s side, placing one foot in front of the other. While my dismount lacked his finesse, I managed to land safely on the ground, relieved that I hadn’t broken an ankle in the process.
“Thank you for showing me how to do it properly,” I said appreciatively.
He tilted his head, a furrow forming in his brow as he asked, “Jion didn’t show you?”
I shook my head, and Glade responded with a noncommittal grunt.
He knocked on the small door three times, and after a few moments, it creaked open, revealing a narrow slit of light. The moment the door parted, a lively melody and the hum of conversation spilled out into the street.
A party.
An elderly woman with short, curly grey hair and a scowl on her face appeared in the doorway. “You son of a bitch,” she hissed at Glade, her tone sharp and fierce. There was an uneasy pause, but then her expression softened as she broke into a smile. “It has been too long, Glade Everkain!”
Glade hugged the woman, and she swung the door wide enough for us both to step inside. As I made my way through the dimly lit entrance, I peered around his broad shoulders and found myself in a bustling, lively pub. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking cups, and chatter.
To the right, a large, dark wooden bar gleamed under the warm glow of hanging iron lanterns, while to the left, tables and cozy booths filled the space, inviting patrons to gather and share stories.
At the far wall, a stage came alive with lanterns of Source Light, where a five-man band played cheerful tunes that resonated throughout the room.
Many guests stood at the front, swaying to the rhythm, while others danced with one another.
“Let me take your jacket,” the old woman insisted, nearly yanking it off Glade’s massive arms as she stripped him of the garment with surprising strength.
“Thank you, Janint.” Glade chuckled, then turned to me. “This is Jane. Jane, this is Janint, an old friend and the owner of this little hidden gem.”
Janint finished hanging Glade’s jacket on the wall hook and turned to me, her gaze sweeping over me with an approving smile. She clasped my hands in hers, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Holy Goddess, Glade, you’ve found yourself a pretty little one this time, haven’t you?”
With a frisky wink, she released my hands and smacked Glade’s chest with the back of her hand, grinning from ear to ear.
Glade’s cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of rouge, even more vivid than his hair, and he raised his hands in a feeble attempt to deny Janint’s assumption. Before he could muster a response, however, she dashed back behind the bar, ready to attend to the bustling crowd once more.
The prince turned to me, clearly prepared to clarify the implications of Janint’s teasing remark. I cut him off before he could utter another word.
“It’s alright,” I asserted, adopting a teasing, scolding manner. “This is quite the romantic spot you’ve got yourself, Glade Everkain. She couldn’t have known that I’m not one of your…” I paused, tapping my finger against my chin as I searched for the right word. “Babes.”
“Babes?” Glade echoed, his chin jolting back as if he had been struck. The prince’s brows drew together in bafflement. “Why the fuck would I bring an infant to a tavern?”
This time, I felt my cheeks heat up. “Babes,” I clarified. “You know, hotties, baddies, dolls, ladies…” I swivelled my head dramatically, striking a pose for effect.