“Well, whatever happens, you’ll have to tell me all the juicy details when you get back! It’s time to get going!” Mina chirps.
She pushes me out the door, and I have no time to protest before she’s dragging me off to the stables. I can’t help but feel a little nervous for the first time in ages.
I’m not expecting this to be the most romantic picnic in the world, but a girl can hope, right?
Chapter six
Aurelio
Why? Why did you do this to yourself, you idiot?
I stand beside the stables, checking the area for any sign of Alessia, but finding she’s still nowhere to be found. My foot taps the ground impatiently. I don’t know whether I’d prefer her to hurry up or take her time.
Why I asked her on that date so spontaneously in the first place is a mystery to me, too. It just slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. She looked incredibly attractive, pinning me down like that, a victorious grin on her stone-cold face. And yet, the longer she stared at me, the warmer her expression became, until her face was flushed a bright red, and not from exertion; that two-minute takedown time still stings.
For some reason, I feel the need to spend a moment alone with her, far outside the palace, where the prying eyes of gossiping servants won’t see us. I’ve only been here a couple days, and already I’m feeling claustrophobic being contained between these walls. Everywhere I look, there are walls, ceilings, and enclosed courtyards, but never an open field under a bright blue sky. It’s suffocating here. I don’t know how Alessia does it. I used to go horseback riding daily, and still, I’d feel trapped by the confines of my massive aristocratic home. I wonder how long I’ll take to get used to this royal life.
Ah, well. At least they have nice stables, I note, patting my horse.
I was allowed to house my horse in the palace stables once I married Alessia, so I planned on visiting the stables before I ever came up with this crazy idea to go on a date. I’m glad I managed a visit, because I think I’ve found yet another perfect quiet hiding spot.
The stables are located on the northwest corner of the palace, in a place where the ground naturally slopes down to the mainland. Perched right at the top of the hillside path, the stables are accessible by a long flight of spiral stairs in the northwest tower that exit into a tunnel directly attached to the back of the stables. It’s a huge building made of polished oak with a limestone foundation the height of my waist. Holding fifty horses in total, each stall is the size of a commoner’s bedroom, with state-of-the-art magic and technology working together to automate the cleaning and feeding processes. The only task that remains to be done by hand is brushing, but riders should do that for bonding purposes with their horses, anyway.
I brush my fingers down the side of an oak door frame, whistling at the smoothness of the wood. The wooden floorboards are perfectly level, and they don’t show a hint of rot. A skylight has been built into the vaulted ceiling above, stretching the length of the building. There are human-sized windows in every stall, filling the whole place to the brim with natural light. Even this late in the evening, the fiery red-orange of sunset washes the walls instead of long, stretching evening shadows.
I turn to my horse, Cricket, a brown thoroughbred mare, and lean my head against her nose. She doesn’t react, per usual. I can’t tell if she actually enjoys my companionship or if she just tolerates me, but either way, we’ve spent over a decade running the hills of Celestia together. I feed her a special diet enhanced with potion-grown grains, said to keep her healthier for longer, and I have to admit, she still acts like a foal at twelve years old. I’ve always wondered if her diet will prolong her aging, so I justify the extra cost of her food, hoping to keep my best friend around for longer.
Cricket rubs her head on my shirt, which I take as her sign of affection for the day, even if she’s probably just itchy. She almost knocks me over with a small toss of her head.
“Easy,” I mumble.
As if to spite me, Cricket takes a step forward and bumps me into her water bowl, spilling it all over my shoes. I look up at her with a deadpan expression.
“Look, Cricket, you’re not the only stubborn woman in my life now. Can you please give me a break?”
She suddenly spins and flicks her tail, catching me in the eye. To say it stings is an understatement.
“Thanks. Appreciate it. I feel so loved.”
“Sorry, but your first mistake was looking for affection from an animal.”
I whirl around, a sly comment about to fall from my lips, only for my brain to short circuit and lose the comment altogether.
Is it just me, or is Alessia trying to take advantage of the situation?
Her crop top and shorts reveal just as much as her training outfit, if not more. Her hair is tied back into a braid now, courtesy of Mina, I’m sure. With the sunlight filtering in through the skylight, Alessia glows like a celestial sent from heaven. The light catches the sapphire necklace around her neck and reflects the blue onto the walls, but it’s still not as bright blue as those beautiful eyes of hers.
Wait, beautiful? I meant boring. Wrong B word.
Still, my heart betrays me once again, thumping wildly in my chest like I’m being chased by a bear. This is ridiculous. I didn’t sign up for feelings when I married into the royal family. Actually, I didn’t sign up for anything at all—I just got volunteered against my will, then permanently stolen from my family, depending on how you look at it.
And yet, here I am, volunteering to spend extra time with the ice queen. What a smart idea, idiot!
Swallowing my self-hatred, I fold my arms over my chest, face Alessia, and nod at Cricket.
“It sounds to me like you’ve never had a genuine bond with an animal.”
“It sounds to me like you’re lonely enough to rely on animals for affection. Animals that don’t particularly return your affection,” Alessia muses, eyeing Cricket’s standoffish behavior.
