I feel like Aster’s given me a swift kick to the gut. I look at the woman closely and see that she’s got his eyes. Piercing hazel eyes. Levanter’s own daughter, in my stable.
Lady Aubrey mustn’t know who I am because she’s smiling at me. She waits, her smile growing strained. “And you’re…?”
I swear under my breath and turn away. Until two months ago, no one bothered me about anything. No one dragged me into government offices to interrogate me. And no Levanters, beautiful or otherwise, stepped foot in my goddamn stables.
“Oh. Well, if you’re busy then I’ll leave you alone.” Hurt and sarcasm color her voice.
Suppressing the urge to tell her to drop her high and mighty attitude, I growl. “I’m the owner here.”
“You’re Cassian Bellerose? I saw your name on the sign out front. I know you’re probably too busy to chat, but it’s nice to meet you.”
I turn and stare at her, searching for a trace of irony or hatred. It’s not nice to meet me. If I hadn’t taken my mother’s name, she’d know that.
Lady Aubrey smiles at me again, a shy, uncertain smile. Not the haughty smile I’d expect from Archduke Levanter’s daughter.
“I only arrived in Paravel a few weeks ago. I don’t know many people at all. It’s just me and my horse.”2Aubrey“Cool story,” Cassian Bellerose deadpans, and then turns away.
My mouth falls open. I’ve always found horse people to be decent people. I don’t need him to fawn all over me like we’re new best friends, but some pleasantness wouldn’t be remiss. After the month I’ve had, a decent conversation with another person would be pretty great, too.
I concentrate on brushing Cinnamon. It’s just me and her again. It used to be me and her and my friend Wraye, but now she’s marrying my father, and every time I think about them together, my stomach.
Covertly, I look over at Cassian. He’s big and tanned, with a clean-shaven jaw and tufted blond hair. The muscles of his shoulders bunch and flex beneath his faded shirt as he brushes his horse, and there are bits of straw and smears of dust on his faded jeans. Jeans that cling to his well-defined ass.
He’s around my age, and I don’t know many people my age in Paravel, especially outside Court. He’s fussing over his horse, but he doesn’t seem to be doing much. Maybe he’s not grumpy, just shy, and he’s hoping I’ll try and talk to him again.
“I heard about these stables at Court. One of the duchesses was telling me you’re brilliant with horses, so I knew I had to stable Cinnamon here.”
Cassian laughs, a mirthless laugh. “That duchess of yours sounds like a troublemaker.”
“Excuse me?”
Cassian doesn’t answer. He lifts one of his horse’s hooves with a large hand, and the muscles of his golden-tanned forearms flex.
“Mr., um, Bellerose?”
“Cassian,” he says stonily. “It’s just Cassian.”
Usually when someone insists that you call them by their first name, there’s a note of friendliness in their voice. He straightens and heads out of the stall and into another at the far end. It contains an enormous black horse. A horse so stunning that I can’t help but drift down the stable to look at it.
“I’ve never seen such a magnificent horse. Whose is he?”
“No one’s.”
“Oh. Then who rides him?”
“No one.”
“But he needs to be exercised.”
“No kidding.”
My smile fades. “If you’d rather I mind my own business, you can just say so. There’s no reason for you to be so rude.”
He rounds on me angrily. “If you’re done with your questions, Lady Aubrey, I’ve got things to do.”
He says “lady” like it’s a four-letter-word. I was hoping that, here, it wouldn’t matter that I was Lady Aubrey, but apparently, I can’t escape my father’s reputation anywhere I go in Paravel. Maybe Daddy did something to this man’s family long ago, and the Belleroses aren’t over it yet.
Longingly, I think of France and being just Aubrey again. Aubrey, who was allowed to ride as much as she wanted, and didn’t have Court duties and social obligations. Who didn’t have a best friend who was about to marry her father.
I see that Cassian is waiting, his dark blond eyebrows raised, for me to answer whether I’m done asking him questions. When I don’t reply, he gives me a dirty look and turns away.
I go back to Cinnamon and stroke her nose. “Someone’s pissed in his cornflakes, huh, girl?”
It’s tempting to take her back home again and find another livery stable, but it really is a lovely place, with an excellent dressage arena and surrounding woods, and so close to South Row. I’ll just ignore Cassian Bellerose.
I saddle Cinnamon and take her out for a ride, exploring the bridle paths and enjoying the summer sunshine. It’s a relief to be somewhere that isn’t around Daddy and Wraye. I’m happy my friend is happy—and she is, radiantly so—but why did my father have to be the one to make her happy? Sweetheart this and darling that. I think once I even heard her call him…call him…