by A C Wilds
“Good Boy, you are doing wonderfully.” I pat him on the neck as we roll into a walk again. That's when I notice Cass standing on the side of the arena holding what I assume is Stormborn. He is a magnificent horse. His mane is thick and hangs loosely down his neck. He is controlled in his stance, and his conformation is strong and muscled.
Cass is staring at me in awe like he’s never seen anyone do a basic trot. I squeeze Red forward, and we trot over to where he is standing. His expression is heavy. He seems to be confused about something.
“What are you doing? I thought we were riding. Get in here and warm up so I can kick your ass at this course,” I say teasingly. I feel too good to hate him right now. Red has me relaxed and in my element.
“I can’t believe what I am seeing is all. Red has never allowed a rider on him before. I thought for sure he was going to buck you off the minute you tried,” he says to me, in a voice of reverence. I don’t see what the big deal is, but apparently, he is making this into one.
“He’s a perfect gentleman on the course. He’s listening to commands and transitioning from walk to trot nicely. He even gave me his head and chuffed a couple of times. He is something.” I give Red another pat on the neck and lean in to hug him. He seems to melt into my touch, and his right ear is pointed back like he’s listening to my whole conversation.
Cass doesn’t know what to say next, so he hops up on Stormborn and begins to warm him up on the outside of the ring. I jump off of Red and lead him behind the gate as we watch the pair. They are beautiful together. Stormborn is as dark as a stormy sky, a dark blue-grey. His coat is gradient and ends in white socks on his hocks. His muscles move under Cass like a ship gliding over the water. Their synchronicity is some of the best I have ever seen. It is like Storm was born for Cass. He quickly gets him into a trot. You can see Storm giving his head by tucking it close to his chest. His back is high and his movements limber and fluid. I notice him softening the bit in his mouth and moving his tongue around. There is a foamy substance forming on his lips which means he is loose and relaxed enough to have a supple ride. Cass edges him on by a slight forward leg squeeze, and he quickly picks up his canter.
He does a few laps around the course and then takes his turns to begin the jumps. The twelve obstacles are all of varying heights and have different setups. Some are simple bars crossed to form a rectangle, others are bushes on either side with the crossed bars in the middle, and one even has a moat of water in the front. Storm takes the jumps gracefully, landing each one with a soft touch down of hooves on the dirt. Cass is breathtaking. He guides the jumps with the practice of a seasoned rider. His heels never once come up from the stirrups, and his back is perfectly straight and aligned in the saddle. They make quite the pair, like a graceful pair of dancers who are in perfect sync. When they are finished, Cass trots Storm around the course once and then walk over to us.
“What do you think? Have I impressed you yet?” Cass says playfully, and a little out of breath. His voice is husky and doing all sorts of things to my nether regions.
“I think you may have. You guys are wonderful together. It’s like you’ve had decades to practice,” I say, because it’s true. There is no way I would have beaten him in a competition. They are just that good. I’m now a bit reluctant to ride in front of him now. It’s been two years for me, and I’ve known Red for less than an hour.
“We have, thirty-six to be exact.”
“I’m sorry, did you say thirty-six?” I say in astonishment, because that can’t be possible. I know that Cass is five hundred and something, but horses don’t usually live past thirty, and they aren’t trained to jump until they are at least seven due to possible injuries occurring before they finish growing. So how is this real?
“Fae horses are not like other horses. They are faster and stronger. Their instincts are far superior to normal horses. They have prolonged life, and when they bond with their owners, they share a life force. Stormborn will be alive for as long as I am. We are soul bonded. It is meant to help the rider in times of peril, or at least it was many years ago. Since we haven’t been in a war in over 2,000 years, it seems like an unnecessary trait,” he says with a shoulder shrug, like this is just everyday conversation about souls and bonds and shit.
“Wow. That’s…amazing. So does this mean since you gave me Red, we are going to have the same connection?” Oh please say yes, please say yes!
“Well, no. Just because you take ownership of him now, it doesn’t mean that he will choose you to be his soul bond. The horse always chooses the rider, and when it happens, you’ll know. It’s not something that can be predicted or forced.”
Damn it! I look at Red then. He is contently leaning his nose into my shoulder. His eyes hold a bit of mischief in them, and I wonder what he is thinking. Could it be possible that this might happen to me too? That would be so amazing. Like the most amazing thing that has ever happened…ever! I am doing a little girly dance in my mind as I realized that Cass is still talking.
“Azra, Azra? Did you hear anything I said? Where did you go?”
“I’m good. I just zoned out for a second.”That’s it, smooth one, Az. I walk Red through the course counting steps and adjusting how I want to approach each hurdle. When I am done, I get back up on Red and trot him around the course before I set myself up. Rounding the first obstacle, I count my strides until we approach the jump. My heart rate picks up, my breath comes a bit quick, and I began to feel a little nervous that I forgot how to do this. With my back rod-straight and my heels down, I give Red the command to jump. My body leans forward in a 45-degree angle as his front legs come up. It is a glorious feeling. As he arches the jump, I keep my position and his back legs clear the rest of the obstacle. We hit the ground with a soft thud and pick up the pace to get ready for the next jump. Red is unreal. It is the most joy I have felt in the last two years. I yip a loud whoop with a mini fist pump as we clear the final obstacle. I lean in and give Red a friendly pat on his neck and a huge hug.
“Good boy! That was amazing. You’re some horse. Thank you for riding with me today,” I tell Red, with so much affection. I am getting a little teary-eyed coming down from the adrenaline rush. I don’t want Cass to see my release, so I walk Red around the course until we are able to both cool off a bit.
“You did a fine job on that course. Our times were only 30 seconds apart. Of course, I won, but it was still a good first try,” Cass says, all smug. His face has that cocky look again. I want to punch him in the throat and then bite it at the same time.
“I’ll take that as a compliment and not as the backhanded comment you meant it to be,” I say, sliding down off Red. I flip the reins over his head and began to lead him back into the stables. He needs a good brushing after all that work. Maybe I can get my hands on some carrots and apples from the kitchen and bring them to him later.
We walk together in companionable silence. I look over at Cass through the corner of my eye and relish his beauty. He is such a handsome, stoic male specimen. It’s too bad he acts like an arrogant asshole. Do I know how pick them or what? When we got back to the stalls, I start taking off all of Red’s tack. I have him stripped and on cross ties when Cass speaks up.
“You don’t have to do that you know,” he says, with a tone of consideration. He knows I want to, but I don’t think the prince in him understands. He still has Storm tacked and is standing off to the side. You can tell the horse doesn’t want to be suited up anymore, but it seems like Cass is waiting for someone.
“I know, but after the ride we just had, it would be rude of me not to. You should probably get that tack off Storm too. He looks tired and could use a rub down,” I say over my shoulder, while I continue to brush Red down. His coat is still sweaty, so I scrub him with the curry comb while he returns to his normal temperature. You can tell he is enjoying himself. He is drifting into me with every stroke. Cass finally takes off Storm’s saddle and bridle and hooks him up to the cross ties opposite me. He takes a d
andy brush, which is a soft bristle brush and starts on Storms side.
“You really should use a curry comb or a sweat scraper. He’s too sweaty for a dandy brush,” I say. I wonder if he ever has groomed a horse before? His Highness in the muck and dirt, cleaning a dirty horse. This brings a chuckle to my lips, and I smile over at Cass. He catches me and gives me a bit of a saucy wink like he knows exactly what I am thinking. It takes about 30 minutes to finish up. I am sweaty and grimy, smelling like a horse. I revel in it, but I need a shower and a change. The sun is high in the sky when we step out of the stables. We must have been in there most of the morning. It is a beautiful day. The clouds are big and fluffy, and the breeze feels good on my skin. I’ve had an excellent morning, but I am worried about what is to come.
“Cass, when are we having that meeting with your father? Not that I am looking forward to it, but I need some answers.”
“He wants to meet after dinner. You can have the rest of the day to yourself, and we will meet with him in the drawing room when dinner is over.”
“You mean I get to be alone for a bit? I thought you were supposed to be keeping an eye on me?”
“As much as I’d love to keep my eyes glued to you all day, I have some matters that need attending. Your tailor will be in your room, ready for you to be fitted for your wardrobe. You’ll be plenty occupied without me.”
“Oh…sure, that sounds fun.” I roll my eyes at him. Nothing about having another Fae measure me for clothes that I am going to hate sounds fun to me.
“You seem disappointed, Azra? I thought you didn’t like my company?”
“Cass, I want to believe you are the good person I saw today, but how can I, when you so blatantly mistreat humans. I am a human, or I was, up until a couple of days ago. Don’t you see how much that hurts me?” He looks at me then, but this time really looks at me. like this thought never occurred to him. I guess there was never anyone to change his mind or help him realize all this was horrible.
“I have never been talked to so directly. I understand growing up you didn’t have all this, but Azra, this is always how it’s been and probably always will be. To speak about it so openly will only lead to trouble. ”
“I can’t accept that. I can’t accept a world where humans are being used and not compensated for the work they do. I also can’t accept that they don’t have the choice to leave this place. It’s not something that I could ever be ok with.” I walk away from him then. As much as it pains me to leave his company, I can’t be around him right now. He’s made himself clear several times now that he doesn’t see a problem with all this. I can’t get close to someone like that. I just can’t. Sean was a prick to the highest level, but his morals were intact. He valued human life and gave back whenever he could. It was one of the reasons why I fell in love with him.
I remember how to get to my room from my previous trip to the barn. Walking through my door, I notice there is a large trifold mirror in the middle of the room. A sort of dais is set up in front of it, and my maids are busy talking to a very tall, very handsome male who is impeccably dressed in a three-piece maroon brocade suit. They notice me walk in and all turn around at the same time. Megan scrunches up her nose in disgust. I imagine she could smell me from here. Dorothy just looks pleased and ready to go. The male, however, speaks up.
“Good Afternoon! My name is Miniel, and I am the royal tailor. I will fit you today for your wardrobe. We have lots to do, so why don’t you go clean up. I have put a light dressing gown in the room that you can use instead of being naked. I’ve heard that humans don’t like to be nude in front of others,” he says. He has a good point, however I don’t know how it is going to work with me wearing a robe. Then I notice a small screen off to the side, which I imagine will be where I will change.
I quickly shower and brush through my wet hair before putting it into a braid. I put on the robe and step out to meet the trio again. Miniel has a fantastic red dress draped over his arm. There is a rack behind him with similar style dresses and a table set up with different tops and pants. He even has a cart filled with shoes and accessories. He is like a traveling Nordstroms.
“I want you to try this dress first. You need something for dinner tonight, and if I have to have one of my tailors make alterations, I’d like to get it started,” he says, stepping up beside me. I accept the dress he hands over to me and go behind the screen. Looking at it stretched out in front of me, it seems too fancy for dinner. It has an off the shoulder sweetheart neckline with cuffs on the upper arms for sleeves. It is very form fitting and has just a dusting of black beading on the hem. It is mid-calf length, so it balances out the open top, but I still think it is too much. Putting it on, I quickly realize the luxury of the material. It feels light and comfortable. I don’t need a bra, as there are built in cups, so I only have to put on the underwear that is laying out on the side table. I step out to show everyone the dress and Miniel’s face lights up into a huge smile.
“That looks amazzzzinng on you!” he practically squeals. “Come here! I need to look at you in front of the mirror.”
I walk over to him. Stepping up on the dais, I do a little twirl to show off the back of the dress. I know, twirl…insert eye roll, but I am a girl and like girly things. He seems to have picked out the right style — something I would wear. “I love this. Did you pick it out?” I ask.
“Yes, I took one look at your complexion and immediately came up with a color palette for you. What is your normal dress size? I’m guessing a 12 or 14?”
“I’m usually a 14 in dresses because I don’t like them too tight. The 12 is always good for tops though, since I don’t have a lot up here,” I say, pointing to my chest. They are a B cup, but not very full. I’ve always been self-conscious about them. They seem to sag just a bit and don’t look very attractive out of a bra in my opinion.
“Don’t worry, that’s what a good push up is for.” He brushes it off like it doesn’t matter. He then gets to work, measuring and pinning as he goes. I don’t think the dress needs anything, but then I see where he nips and tucks, and it makes all the difference. It transforms the dress from beautiful to otherworldly. We work through my whole wardrobe, and by the time we are done, it is already dusk. The sun is making its way under the horizon, and the sky is turning a mix of oranges and reds. From the window, all I can see is the pretend forest and the gardens below. I hadn’t realized how pretty everything would look from up here. It is indeed a gorgeous view.
“Alright, Azra,” Miniel says, pulling me back into the room. “We are all finished here. I will send Dorothy back later with the altered dress and someone to do your hair and makeup. Your first official royal dinner is special, so we want to make sure you make an impression.”
“What do you mean, official dinner? Isn’t it just going to be the same people I had breakfast with?”
“No, you will be eating with the high council and the royal family. The King called this dinner so that everyone can meet the Changer. You are so important after all,” Megan says, with a nastiness only she could muster. I swear if this woman were allowed to, I think she’d claw my eyes out. I wonder why she is so mad?
“Great, so I have to show off in front of all these Fae that I don’t know. No pressure. Are they all as arrogant and horrible as your King?” I say, with no filter. The look of horror on all three faces tell me I’ve made a huge mistake. I swallow, and I swear it can be heard in the bathroom.
“Never, under any circumstances speak ill of the king. Changer or not, you could lose your head,” Miniel says in a hushed voice. “There are eyes and ears everywhere in the palace, Azra. Mind your tongue, and be careful who you trust. Of course, we won’t say anything, but I can’t speak for the rest of the staff.” Looking at Megan I know that isn’t true. Given a chance, this bitch would throw me so far under the bus there would be nobody to see on the other side.
They leave then in a flurry of lace and tulle. My cage goes back to the way it looked before. I walk
into the closet and find comfy pajamas made of soft cotton. I slip them on and lay in bed. I want to take a little nap before I have to face all those Fae tonight. To relax my mind, I began thinking the day through. My morning with Cass was incredible. I can picture myself spending a lot of time with him, but I wish he didn’t have such biased views. I can also imagine him naked and underneath me, if I’m being honest with myself. He is one fine specimen of a man. I wonder what he looks like without his shirt on? Before things can get too steamy, I drift off into a light sleep.
Sometime later, there is a gentle knock on the door. Reluctantly, I sit up in bed and call out, “Come in.” Dorothy walks through with the dress draped over her forearm. A slender, petite Fae walks in behind her. I can tell she is Fae because she has a tint of green to her skin. Her chin is pointed, as are her ears. She has bright green hair pulled up into a ponytail that oddly matches her skin tone.
“This is Sophie. She’s the makeup artist,” says Dorothy. “I’ll leave you guys to it and come back in an hour to bring you down to dinner.” With that, she exits the room leaving me alone with the strange Fae.
