There was no part of Alethea that regretted escaping the castle to join Tristan in the woods, but she had missed Midnight.
He’d grown a bit fat in her absence, which was a better outcome than the alternative. Thea laughed when she saw him, teased him for apparently raiding a granary, and began the long, welcome work of reconditioning. They both needed it, in their ways – Midnight needed to be run, and Thea needed to quiet her mind.
Things at the castle were different, again. And the same, again. She found she didn’t trust her feelings there, found her memories unsettled, echoes of what had happened sounding suddenly at any moment. Focusing on the differences helped. Without guards hounding her every move, she rode deep into the lands around the castle, freedom a flavor she could taste on the wind. If she wanted to ride for days, nobody would stop her. If she wanted to leave…
Did she want to leave? Would anyone try to stop her?
Tristan had been so busy, it was hard to say if he’d notice. No, that was unfair – they passed in hallways, and they always had smiles ready for each other, unspoken apologies for never having enough time. He was overwhelmed with all his new responsibilities, she was sure, and adjusting back into castle life after so long living like a wild man in the woods. But he would still mark her absence. They’d only been reunited such a short time ago.
And Thea didn’t want to leave, not really. She just wanted to leave these memories behind.
They returned to the stables invigorated, Midnight arching his neck like his old show-pony self, making her laugh. “You’re getting too old for these antics,” she informed him, and he snorted. Never. As she untacked him, and brushed his lustrous coat, she could not help but think what a privilege it was to have a bond like theirs. They settled into companionable quiet, the sounds of the courtyard receding to an underwater-distance, the brush scraping over fur, their slow breathing. They both smelled of stable, and leather, and sweat. It was the kind of peace that felt like it might stretch on forever, if it were not interrupted.
The interruption that did come was welcome, though. Thea was alerted to Tristan’s arrival by Midnight’s whicker.
She stepped around the horse, trailing her fingers over his flanks, making the same soft noises she’d made with him before she’d acquired the power to speak his language. Midnight seemed to appreciate it, making nonsense noises back. She smiled.
“Tristan,” she greeted brightly, looking him over. It still felt surprising, seeing him so tall. Once upon a time, they’d been of a height. She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” It was so odd, thinking of all the things he was probably supposed to be doing, but wasn’t, in favor of seeing her. And it was a pleasure to be thought of; a flush of it appeared high on her cheeks.
She caught sight of Celidon – moved to scratch him behind his ear. Then she leaned against the stall door, tilting her head back to look at Tris, perched up against the wall.
“Looking like that, you could ask me to do almost anything.” There was a time not long ago when she would have blushed, hearing her own words. Now, she merely marked the potential innuendo with a breath of laughter. “It’s a very smart coat,” she clarified.
Tristan looked Kingly, but also like his old, mischievous self, and Alethea found herself peering at him with mock suspicion. “Are you going to tell me what the favor is, or are you going to make me guess?”
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