The Bookworm and the Pegasus Tamer (Wynkara Chronicles Novellas #1)

Chapter 1

One

The wings of the pegasus beat against the sky, its palomino body blending seamlessly with the pale gold of its feathers. With the streams of sunlight behind it, the mighty creature appeared to be descending from the sun itself—or perhaps from some hidden world among the clouds.

Aurelia watched it with a catch in her breath, awed in spite of herself. Never having received an invitation to the palace, she had never seen a pegasus so close before.

But the moment the creature alighted on the soft grass of the hillside, the man on its back sprang down to the ground, breaking Aurelia’s moment of wonder.

He flashed an easy smile at the crowd, and the ripple in response to his arrival was even greater than the earlier reaction to the pegasus’s descent.

She wrinkled her nose as the high-born guests at the picnic surged toward the Earl of Windward. The unattached young ladies and their mamas led the pack, and from what Aurelia could see, the Earl was enjoying the attention enormously.

Not that Aurelia needed any special perspicacity to discern that. She didn’t know him personally—unless you counted occasionally spotting him on the far side of a crowded social gathering—but everyone knew his reputation.

The Pegasus Tamer.

Anyone who proudly flaunted an epithet like that, or who chose to arrive at a social picnic on the back of a royal pegasus, enjoyed attention.

Not that anyone else present could have arrived by pegasus, even if they had wished to do so.

The king didn’t allow just anyone to ride one of the royal herd.

The Earl directed a comment at Lady Lucia, recognizable from a distance as she was wearing her favorite gown.

Lucia had pushed forward to stroke the soft neck of the pegasus, and she instantly blushed rose-pink at the Earl’s words, the color visible even from Aurelia’s position further up the hill.

Nor did Aurelia miss the adoring gaze the girl threw at the handsome, dark-haired Earl.

“Anyone would think he was the one to have sprouted wings and flown,” she muttered, turning back to her book.

A muffled snort made her look up guiltily.

She wouldn’t have spoken aloud if she’d known anyone was close enough to hear.

She had faithfully promised her mama to behave with the utmost respectability at the picnic—a promise Aurelia had felt pressured into making to offset the guilt at having slipped a book into her small bag.

Reading at a social event hovered on the outermost edges of respectability.

Insulting the darling of high society—the most eligible gentleman in Wynvale—lay on the other side of that line.

At least it did when you were a young, unmarried woman of no social standing whatsoever.

A duchess could probably insult the Earl of Windward as much as she liked.

But Aurelia knew all about lines and what it was to live only just on the right side of the most important one.

It came with the endless danger of crossing just two steps in the wrong direction—as her grandmama loved to remind her.

It took her a moment to find the author of the sound, and when she did, she let out a soft breath of relief. An unfamiliar young lady her own age was an unknown risk, but it was better than a fashionable gentleman or disapproving society matron.

The girl approached in response to Aurelia’s gaze, a tentative smile on her face.

Aurelia smiled back, gesturing at the blanket beside her.

There was plenty of room. The baroness hosting the picnic had left nearly twenty blankets spread out over the grassy hill, but Aurelia had been the only one to choose the blanket furthest up the slope.

The girl sat, gazing down over the event as Aurelia had just been doing.

“I suppose he can’t be blamed for the way they’re all fawning over him,” Aurelia murmured, trying to mitigate her earlier comment in case the girl had taken offense.

“Do you think so?” the girl sounded thoughtful more than anything, so Aurelia took courage.

“Well, to be honest, I do think he bears some of the blame. Have you seen his smile up close? Anyone with a smile that devastating should wield it with a bit more discrimination.”

The girl laughed, and Aurelia smiled triumphantly.

In actual fact, she had only caught a single, short glimpse of the Earl’s smile up close herself.

But she couldn’t help laughing at the way everyone flocked to him, and she’d finally found someone else who felt the same.

None of the other young women she’d met in Wynkara’s capital had appreciated her humor.

She examined her new companion more closely.

The girl wore her light brown hair piled on her head in the latest fashion, but a single curl had escaped to mar the effect.

And her gown—made with the finest material and in the latest style—had already wrinkled.

Overall, Aurelia received the impression that it wasn’t the girl herself who had such careful consideration for fashion.

When the girl turned sparkling green eyes on Aurelia, she was certain of her assessment. This girl might be dressed with taste and money, but she didn’t spend her time considering matters of dress. Aurelia warmed to her even further.

“I’m Phoebe,” the girl said. “What are you reading?”

Aurelia looked guiltily down at her book, having forgotten all about it. She held it up so Phoebe could see the cover.

“Remarkable Plant Varieties of the Northwestern Ranges,” she recited as she did so, adding, “And I’m Aurelia. It’s lovely to meet you.”

The other girl wrinkled her nose. “Plants! Is it interesting?”

“More than you might think,” Aurelia said with enthusiasm.

“It’s a travel memoir as much as anything, and some of the plants that grow in that region have the most fantastical properties!

And the author must have had a sense of humor because his account of his journeys in the mountains are most entertaining.

” She pulled the book back toward her, gazing down at the cover.

“I’ll admit that isn’t evident in the title, but perhaps someone else came up with it. ”

Phoebe laughed again. “It’s certainly not very inspired, is it? But I suppose it is informative, and that’s the first purpose of a book title.”

“You like to read?” Aurelia couldn’t hide her delight. She assumed there must be other society ladies who liked to read, but it didn’t seem to be a favored topic of conversation at social gatherings.

“Of course,” Phoebe said promptly. “In fact—”

Aurelia let out a startled cry, flinching instinctively away from the small, furry blur streaking toward them. An animal reached them, leaping into Phoebe’s lap and burrowing into her dress.

When Phoebe petted the creature’s back, Aurelia relaxed. Having caught the movement from the side of her eye, she had thought for one moment that they were being attacked by a wild animal. But the creature in Phoebe’s lap clearly wasn’t aggressive.

“Is that your pet?” She leaned closer for a better look at the small animal.

“Fable isn’t a pet,” Phoebe said shortly.

A small dark face peeked over the edge of Phoebe’s lap, the white muzzle and ears giving the creature an inquisitive look. The long neck joined with a golden-brown body and tail, both curled in the folds of Phoebe’s dress, the whole thing no more than sixteen inches.

The creature cocked its head to the side, its eyes gleaming with intelligence.

Aurelia gasped, finally recognizing it as a polecat. And if it was a polecat, that was one of the possible animal varieties of an—

“Is that an oncaryx?” she whispered.

Phoebe nodded, gently stroking the furry back. “His name is Fable.”

“And he belongs to you?” Aurelia regarded her with wide eyes.

Since oncaryx could transform at will into an inanimate weapon, they almost always bonded with guards, which Phoebe couldn’t possibly be.

She didn’t even have the look of a brawny young lady who spent the majority of her time in a sparring hall.

Did Fable turn into a small dagger, then?

The type Phoebe could wear at her waist, although Aurelia could see no scabbard anywhere visible.

She certainly couldn’t imagine what Phoebe would do with a longbow or a double-headed axe—although she had read that it was the larger breeds such as wolverines, martens, or badgers who usually transformed into the bigger inanimate forms.

Phoebe’s brow creased. “Fable doesn’t belong to anyone. But if you mean to ask if we’re bonded, then yes.”

Aurelia flushed. She knew that none of the intelligent creatures of Wynkara were owned by humans—any more than humans would own each other. While many of them chose to bond with a human, it was a bond of choice and friendship.

She had just forgotten in her excitement.

Growing up, she had known a few people who had vendrillon companions—her own grandmama among them.

Vendrillons were known to be good judges of character, so it was the best thing she knew about her grandmother.

It had always given her reassurance that the intimidating woman couldn’t be as bad as she appeared to an unsatisfactory young bookworm.

But Aurelia had almost no experience with oncaryxes or pegasi. It gave strength to her mother’s insistence that they come to the capital for the social season. Wynvale seemed to be bursting with far more interesting creatures than Aurelia’s hometown had ever attracted.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean anything by it. He’s a very handsome fellow, and I can tell he understands everything we’re saying.” She gave a seated bow in his direction. “My sincere apologies, Master Fable.”

Phoebe laughed, her brief irritation forgotten. “There’s no need to be so formal with him. No one else is.”

Aurelia longed to ask how Phoebe had possibly come to bond with an oncaryx, but she didn’t like to be rude. Instead, she asked if it was true that they didn’t eat.