The Prairie is stifling. She knows that Claret (and by extension, Lir and all the others there) are just trying to keep her safe, in some weird attempt to honor her Zevulun’s memory. She knows just hearing his name shouldn’t irritate her so much but it does. She never knew him. He isn’t her father. But apparently that doesn’t matter - he was the sort who extends the definition of family pretty damn wide and her being Claret’s sister was good enough for everyone he left behind. Plus, she’s pretty sure she and Lir are related somehow through their mothers (Claret mentioned it once, but quite frankly Airén didn’t care to learn).
Autumn makes it easier to sneak out - Lir is distracted with his own mares, Claret is distracted with avoiding every stallion within a fifty mile radius, and she has a chance to cross the border without being noticed. Maybe it isn’t the smartest time to be fleeing, but she doesn’t really care. She’s tired of being locked up in the endless grassy plains of her sister’s home like some sort of fragile child. She’s a mare grown, and a mare who has only recently been handed over to the soft-hearted Claret. Her formative years were spent with their mother; Airén knows how to protect herself. She learned that lesson from Riesling, quickly and well. She knows when a word or a glance is more cutting than violence, and she knows when teeth or hooves serve better than a caustic little barb. There isn’t any reason that she needs to be hidden away.
A frightening truth she’s realized recently is that until she professes herself madly in love with someone (or goes to the Peak), Claret will never let her leave. So Airén has hatched a plan. She’s going to sneak out, find some simpering fool and make him fall in love with her. Then, she’ll drag him back to the Prairie, let everyone know just how enamored she is with him and head off into that bright unknown Claret imagines for her future.
The second she’s free of her clinging family, she’ll chase the stallion off and be free to live her life without any interference. Really, she can’t see a single thing wrong with the plan. If only she could find someone naive enough to fall for her face before she speaks, she’d be halfway to her freedom.