‘Just sit and eat, Danyl, before you dig yourself even further into a hole,’ she commanded.
He took a bite of the pasta and groaned. ‘This is really good.’
‘Do you want a shovel?’
‘For the food?’
‘For the hole!’
He tried to swallow past the laughter. Aside from occasionally sharing a meal with Antonio and Dimitri, he usually ate takeout alone, reading over either coursework or state papers.
‘Was that your parents?’
‘On the phone? Yes. I think they want me to go back to Ter’harn as soon as my course finishes,’ he told her, the food cooling instantly in his mouth.
She gave him a small smile. ‘And what do you want?’
‘I...’ He sighed. Whether it was Mason or the food casting a spell on his usual ability to deflect such questions, he couldn’t tell. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready. My parents, they’re the best thing that ever happened to Ter’harn. Under their rule, our country has flourished. And...well, they’re so perfect, I’m just not sure I can live up to them. I feel this...pressure to be as good as them,’ he finished with a shrug. But the movement of his shoulders was only part of what he felt...helpless. The other part, the darker part, was more difficult. But there was something about Mason McAulty that made him think she might understand, might somehow help? ‘I don’t know what kind of ruler I’ll be. I can’t see how...how I’ll be able to make the decisions in the same way that my father has. How I will find the right answers to problems the way my father has.’
She looked at him, her deep, walnut-coloured eyes shining up at him with sympathy, but also a ruefulness that surprised him. ‘You won’t and you can’t.’
Danyl’s head reared back at the unexpected answer he felt like a slap. Until she pressed on.
‘You’re not your father, Danyl. You must find your own way to make your own decisions. Your own answers to different problems.’
Danyl felt something like panic. He heard an inner voice left over from childhood insecurities and childhood fears... What if I can’t?
He didn’t realise that he’d said it out loud until she placed her hand on his arm, the weight and warmth of it grounding him, blocking out that voice.
‘But you can,’ she assured him, an easy smile making the weight of the conversation a little lighter. ‘Making a decision is easy. It may not always be the right one, and it may not always be perfect. The decision is the easy bit, as long as you don’t let your fear overwhelm you.’
He looked at Mason, taking her in, the long swathes of brown curls falling around her shoulders, but it was her eyes. The defiance, the strength, the determination in those dark brown orbs that sang to him on the air about them.
‘It is that easy? Just decide not to be overwhelmed?’
‘The decision? Yes. Doing it?’ Her lips curved upwards. ‘Not so much. But that’s what makes it worth it. If it was easy, everyone would do it.’
‘Is that how you approach riding?’
‘A little. Any doubts, any fears I may have...they are kept firmly in my room. I can’t approach a horse with any of those emotions because they would sense it, they would know. By the time I’m with my horse, my mind is set, my goal is clear and my mind is calm.’
Danyl let out a huff of laughter. ‘I never thought I’d see a connection between the people of Ter’harn and a horse, but I believe that they would smell fear just as easily as a thoroughbred.’
‘Why not? We’re all, at some level, the same. We know when there is a threat, we can tell. Years of evolution hasn’t trained the predator-prey dynamic out of us.’
‘So, I must become the predator?’
‘No.’ The gentle laugh soothed some of the edginess of the conversation. ‘But I imagine you have to approach ruling with that same separation between your private concerns and your public focus. You can only do the best you can. You are—despite being a prince—only human.’
Danyl was a little stunned. He’d never had a conversation about this with anyone. Not even Dimitri and Antonio. He’d never admitted how much he feared failing his parents, his country. But Mason hadn’t dismissed his concerns as silly. Hadn’t fawned over him, telling him that he was being silly. Instead she’d listened, understood and shared. And it felt as if some of that weight had been lifted. As if he could suddenly see a pathway into the future that wasn’t necessarily treading in his father’s footsteps, but making his own.
Mason had felt the honesty in his words, and was humbled by the fact he’d shared such a thing with her. ‘I know a little about that pressure. Sometimes I wonder whether I’m riding for me or for my father. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. There’s nothing like riding, being...connected with the horse—it’s like I’m flying. But...’
‘Did you always want to be a jockey?’
‘I know most young girls probably want to be...princesses,’ she said, laughing and nodding to Danyl. ‘But my mum left when I was two. And Pops gave up everything, gave up travelling around Australia, training some of the best horses in the country. He gave up what he loved for...’
‘For someone he loved,’ Danyl finished.