Chapter 15 Durvla
Durvla
In the morning, I wake to an orange glow behind my eyelids.
I dare to open my eyes and I’m practically blinded by the rays of the sun.
I squint, straining to make out a face, but there’s only a silhouette against the brightness—a mane of wavy hair that throws hope in to mix with my confusion for a moment.
But it’s not Taig. It’s Ellynne. I catch the end of her sentence.
“… a heavy sleeper.”
I rub my bleary eyes. “I am. Apologies.” As I scrub my hand over my face, I draw in a sharp breath, wincing. I’d forgotten all about my injuries and my face throbs, but last night I’d had the best sleep of my life. Guilt settles into the pit of my stomach.
“Well, you better get going. One of Carys’s guards, Major Kilkenny, is going to accompany you to Barr na Cahar this morning. He’s already waiting outside your door.”
If my confusion is visible, Ellynne doesn’t react. Instead, she heads over to my closet and rummages through it. She looks questioningly over her shoulder at me.
“Apologies … still half asleep,” I say. I stand and pad over to her, illogically self-conscious about my bare feet and thin nightgown when she’s already seen me stark naked.
Ellynne glances at me. “Do you have a favorite color?”
I frown. Do I? “Not really.” I’ve never had much of a choice. It’s been shades of brown, greys and whites my whole life. “I suppose green?” Like foliage. Like the plants I’d so diligently tended to in the greenhouse.
She turns to me, handing over a forest green linen dress. “Perfect.”
I hold it up, admiring it. “It’s very pretty.”
“There’s a …” With her face angled to the wardrobe, I miss the rest of what she says.
A moment of later, she pulls out a beige woolen coat with brass buttons down the front.
It’s tapered at the waist, a gown in coat form.
Stunning really. “I’ll leave it on the bed for you,” says Ellynne.
“I have to get to Princess Carys, but I just wanted to make sure you were settled in and ready for your first full day here.”
“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”
Ellynne smiles and rushes out. Meanwhile, I get dressed as quickly as possible, and I sit on the bed to slip my boots on.
There are some hair accessories on my side table now—a couple of clips and a few ribbons.
Ellynne must’ve brought them in for me. I smile and unbraid my hair, finger-combing through my dark curls and tying half up with a ribbon before checking my appearance in the mirror.
I touch my fingertips to my cheek. It’s darker blue than yesterday and a little stiff, but hopefully it won’t draw too much attention.
I toss my coat on before grabbing my sketch from the desk and folding it. Cautiously opening the door, I find the princess’s dark-haired guard standing rigid. I shrink back as his onyx gaze homes in on my face.
“Good morning,” he says.
“Good morning.” I slip the sketch into my pocket, my focus still on the guard’s chiseled face.
He extends his right hand to me, and I automatically reach out with my dominant hand, making for an awkward, impossible arm clasp. My face heats.
Great first impression, Durvla.
I clear my throat. “A pleasure to meet you, Major Kilkenny.”
His gaze sweeps from my hair down to my boots, scrutinizing my appearance. When he finds my face again, he says, “Are you able to ride a horse in that?”
I frown. I’m not able to ride a horse at all. Unsure of what to say, I just stand there.
Major Kilkenny raises a brow. “Well, if you’re comfortable in that …” he begins. An uneasy tension fills the wordless space until he says, “Alright, let’s get going then.” He starts walking and I follow, barely keeping up with his stride.
He’s only as tall as the princess, but far more intimidating. The silver streaks in his dark brown hair suit him somehow. A sword is secured at his waist, and he keeps his hand on the hilt as though he expects us to get attacked at any moment.
Does he expect us to get attacked? I gulp.
We walk through the castle, through an area that Ellynne didn’t show me during our tour yesterday.
Major Kilkenny doesn’t speak, which is a relief as it would be especially difficult to focus on the movement of his lips with my pulse scurrying.
I don’t know what to expect from this excursion.
All I know is that there’s an armed guard beside me who isn’t particularly fond of me, and I’m not sure if he’s assigned to protect me or keep me captive.
When we reach the stables, a petite young man with unruly blond hair stands between two horses.
The stench of manure wafts to my nostrils and I’m overcome with nostalgia, remembering the hundreds of times I’ve fertilized the greenhouse plants.
I try not to spiral, bidding my mind to focus on the present instead of where I’d rather be.
Out of my peripheral vision, Major Kilkenny glances in my direction, his brows raised as if awaiting a response from me.
Gods, I really need to pay better attention if I’m going to make it out of here alive.
“Have you ridden a horse before?” he asks, not for the first time, I’m sure.
I shake my head. “No.”
He turns forward again and continues toward the horses—one with black hair gleaming in the sunlight, and the other chestnut brown with a cream-colored mane and tail.
They’re beautiful, but I stop a short distance from them.
Up close, they are huge. I’ve seen horses before, of course, but not consistently, and I’ve certainly never ridden one. The thought makes my stomach sink.
Major Kilkenny greets the stableboy and thanks him before turning his attention back to me, beckoning me closer. I take a breath before moving toward him.
Major Kilkenny rubs the sable and cream-colored horse and arches a brow at me as though I’m a mystery. It does nothing to stop my stomach from sinking further.
“This is Mirren,” he says. “She has a gentle temperament and is perfect for beginners. Ghendor here is the opposite.” He moves on to stroke the black horse’s muscular back. “He can be a nasty fellow, but we have a civil agreement.” Ghendor huffs as though he understands.
Major Kilkenny encourages me to let Mirren sniff my open palm, but she bypasses my offering and sticks her snout right into my neck. I hold my breath and root my feet. This horse is going to eat me. At the least, she’ll bite me. Can a person die from a horse bite?
My fears are quelled when the mare nudges my arm. She seems harmless.
“Alright,” says Major Kilkenny when I turn to him again. “Let’s get you in the saddle.”
My chest tightens. “I’m afraid of heights.”
He pauses, brows lowered, dark eyes brooding. “Going to Barr na Cahar on foot will take the entire morning. We’re already running behind schedule.”
Sorry, I was busy recuperating from being arrested, forced to sit in filthy conditions for days, manhandled, and thrown in jail before being unexpectedly assigned to Princess Carys’s service.
I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth to keep the words from flying out. “How do I … ?” I gesture to Mirren.
Major Kilkenny instructs me to slip one boot into the stirrup and push myself up.
My muscles are still sore and stiff, my arms trembling slightly as I maintain the position.
My other leg still dangles, and for a moment, I fear I’ll be stuck awkwardly half standing in the stirrup, my arms grasping the saddle like a lifeline.
Major Kilkenny appears on the other side of the horse and places a steady hand atop mine.
After my experience with Mainlanders in the past few days, my heart quickens with apprehension, but there is no ill intent on Major Kilkenny’s face. Only mild annoyance.
“Get your other leg over before Mirren loses her patience,” he says.
Alright, maybe more than mild annoyance. Is it truly the horse he’s concerned will lose patience?
I fully hoist myself up, swinging my leg over the horse.
Major Kilkenny dodges my foot, barely evading a boot to the face.
I’m fully seated now, but my other leg dangles, my vision swimming before me.
Major Kilkenny firmly grasps my ankle and slides my foot into the stirrup for me.
There’s a tug on my dress and my eyes fly open as he smooths the material down over the side of Mirren, ensuring I retain my modesty.
The gesture is so … unexpected.
“Let’s get going,” he says. “Try to look ahead instead of down.” He hands me the reins and quickly instructs me on some basics.
I am going to fall off this horse. Great Mother, help me.
Major Kilkenny mounts Ghendor, and the horse sets off at a walk. As Mirren follows, I grab on to the reins a little too hard and she reels back. My heart leaps.
I’m going to fall, I’m going to fall, I’m going—
Major Kilkenny shouts something beside me. He says something else and I just gawk at him, beyond flustered. He gestures with the reins in his hand, telling me to let up on them.
I immediately drop the reins and he presses his lips together and turns his face to the sky for a second as if praying for patience.
My heart is racing, and my palms are sweating.
I take a deep breath and slowly exhale as Major Kilkenny takes Mirren’s reins along with Ghendor’s.
Mirren resumes walking as Ghendor does, and I hold on to the pommel with all my might.
Major Kilkenny observes me for a while, then says, “Eyes ahead of you.”
I can say the same to you, I want to tell him.
Eventually, we graduate to a trot, then a canter.
I adjust. Slowly, as always, but I do adjust. A while later, I no longer have to grip the pommel like my life depends on it, and I even manage to hold the reins on my own.
Mirren veers off course a couple of times thanks to my shoddy leading skills, but I successfully steer her back each time.