“If they need to be stabled elsewhere for a while, I can make it work.” That the elsewhere had anything to do with royalty would test my patience and nerves, but I’d cope with it somehow. I had no idea how long it would take for me to get to the heart of Texas’s government, but I’d find out soon enough. “Is there any evidence the asshole who hurt Baby was involved with the poisonings?”
“We don’t know yet, but it’s being investigated. If there is a link, we’ll find it. It’s entirely possible; their company expanded into artisan oils trying to recover after a drop in sales. What we don’t understand is why they used asparagus berries. The sales of the oils and other products didn’t stop the downturn in their business, and it’s been determined they were aware their products were making people sick. I think they meant to hide the soring damage using magic and sell horses meant for shows; a natural high stepper can do remarkably well. With Baby’s inability to be handled, maybe he figured the damage wouldn’t be discovered? Until you, no vet could realistically examine him. And with him acting out so much, nobody really noticed his gaits.”
I nodded. “Why pay attention to how he’s walking when he’s doing his best to take your head off?”
“Exactly. But underneath the abuse, he’s a good horse. Anyway, if you’re all right with it, I’ll have them taken to the palace stables this evening. We’ll figure out how to work around your schedule so you can care for him; Dad gets hives whenever I go into his stall.”
I wasn’t surprised. It amazed me she could approach Baby at all. “He does have a bit of a reputation.”
Everyone laughed, and Jessica shot me a look, one that promised some form of misery had I not completely lost my apprehension around the woman. “A bit?”
“It’s a very big bit.”
“I think your definition of a bit needs an adjustment, Pat.”
“It’s just like I use a bit of spice when I make my chicken.”
Jessica leveled another glare at me. “As I said, I think your definition of a bit needs an adjustment.”
I had more problems than I knew what to do with. I loved having her undivided attention, even when I skirted experiencing her talent for myself. Grinning, I tipped my hat in her direction. “Maybe a bit.”
“Are you sassing me, Mr. Laycal?”
“Why yes, ma’am, I certainly am.”
“And you’re liking it!”
I didn’t have to think about that for long. “Why yes, ma’am, I certainly am.”
Jessica spluttered. Then she huffed, and her smile returned. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Does Baby even have a saddle?” I asked.
“He doesn’t, but there’s one around here that’ll fit. I’ll ask someone to get one. Ready to give him a ride?”
“If I don’t do something physical, I’m only going to be more sore later, and if I can’t get into the saddle with my back like this, I’d rather know now.”
“Has anyone told you you’re so practical it’s painful?” she asked.
“It’s worked for me so far.”
“That it has.” Jessica turned to the crowd and shooed them away. “Out, out! You’ve seen he’s still alive and kicking. Let him get in some time with his horse without hovering. If you want to watch, do it behind the gate and quietly.”
I wondered if I should tell her that she needed to stop giving people openings, as every last one of my co-workers opted to hang out on the other side of the arena wall to watch me make a fool of myself on my first ride with Baby.
Morning Glory refused to let me mount Baby until she had her hackamore and toy saddle on, and Jessica got the bright idea to fetch a doll from the manor to have ‘ride’ my filly. I made Branst give his stamp of approval despite the doll weighing practically nothing.
“Just make sure the doll is secured to the saddle. It’s light enough it won’t be a problem, and it’ll get her used to the idea of carrying something more than just the saddle. Take it slow with that horse, Pat. Watch his body language. If he doesn’t want you on his back, you stay off his back, you hear me?”
“As I value my life, I have zero intentions of pushing him beyond what he’s game to try.”
“Remember all that stuff I taught you about how to fall? Now is a good time to remember all that stuff. If he bucks you off, your first job is to get out from beneath his hooves. You’ve been teaching him to halt on the lunge, you order him to halt if you hit the sand. But you get out of kicking range, then you catch him and try again. You’re going to get tossed, and it won’t be because he wants to toss you. It’ll be because he’s afraid. Just fall like we taught you, and if you haven’t rattled your head in your helmet too hard, get up and try again.” Branst pointed at the gate where everyone gathered to watch me eat sand. “I’ll give you directions from over there. We’ll treat it like a lesson if you manage to keep on his back.”
Even Jessica joined the crowd waiting to watch me fall on my ass over and over as I tried to teach Baby I wouldn’t hurt him in the saddle. According to his body language and ears, the stallion really wasn’t sure about the idea of having a saddle on his back.
I spent a long time letting him get used to the saddle before I dragged over a mounting block and leaned on the saddle. Baby snorted, flattened his ears, and watched me with white-rimmed eyes.
“There’s a bunch of naysayers over there who think you can’t be ridden, Baby, so why don’t we show them they’re wrong? It can be our hobby. They can tell us we can’t do things, and we’ll work at proving them wrong.”
On second thought, my statement made me a viable candidate to be Jessica’s king; I doubted I’d ever said something so Texan in my entire damned life.
I spent what felt like an eternity testing my weight on Baby’s saddle until he relaxed and his ears pricked forward. The faster I got onto his back and set my seat, the more likely I’d stay in the saddle if he decided to take flight. However, I didn’t want to move too quickly and startle him into bucking, either.
As I often did whenever it came to Jessica and her crazy world of horses and the elite, I questioned every decision I’d made leading to getting onto the back of a horse with a reputation of seriously hurting riders. As Baby seemed game and stood still waiting for me to make my move, I swung onto his back.
Morning Glory pranced nearby and ran circles around us while waiting for the fun part of lessons to began. Baby’s ears swiveled back and he tossed his head, but he remained still rather than taking flight like I expected. I settled in the saddle, reached forward, and patted his neck. “Good boy.”
His ears pricked forward.
Working him on a lunge was a lot different from actually riding, but I figured I’d test my luck. I gave a light squeeze of my legs.
Maybe he acted like a devil on a mission to kill all of mankind, but someone had trained him well; Baby eased into a slow walk, obeying my subtle cue without question. I applied more pressure, and he picked up the pace.
I could feel the difference in his gait compared to other horses I’d ridden, and I kept an eye on his legs, wondering if I’d ever be able to convince the stallion he didn’t need to lift his legs as high as he possibly could.
He responded to both pressure of a leg and the rein to turn, and I guided him in a full circuit around the ring, wary when we got near the gate and the crowd watching us.
“Try him at a trot, Pat.”
Like with his walk, I started him off at a slower trot, and I almost fell out of the saddle at the exaggerated bounce. Muttering curses and putting my heels down, I adjusted my seat until I could ride through it without falling on my ass.
It took me halfway around the arena to figure out how to handle his trot without feeling like I’d fall off his back.
“Canter,” Branst ordered.
Great. Since I’d survived the trot, Branst obviously wanted me to push my luck. I signaled the stallion to transition to a canter.
He gave me a gallop instead.
Fortu
nately for me, I’d been waiting for Baby to do something unexpected, and I managed to grab a handful of his mane before he shifted to top gear. It took me two entire circuits to rein him in, and I was torn between scolding the horse and just being grateful I’d survived the stallion’s antics. Once I got him standing still, I slid off his back so I wouldn’t go on any other wild adventures, shooting Branst an accusing glare.
Branst laughed. “Don’t be sour, Pat. He just wanted to run and play. Took longer than I like for you to get him back under control, but he obviously likes to run. Walk him and watch for limping. If he’s not limping after you’ve cooled him down, get back on and work on that trot. He’s gorgeous. You’re not. While you’re walking him, I’ll go get a dressage saddle and a better bridle. I think you’ll both be better off riding English for now.”
My back ached and I wanted to go back to bed, but rather than complain, I saluted and led Baby around the arena with Morning Glory prancing alongside, everything perfect in her world.
Branst obviously wanted to run me into the ground, as Baby loved being ridden and didn’t want to stop our lesson, not even after an hour of dealing with me bouncing around on his back worse than a sack of grain. He loved the dressage saddle, and in what I thought was absolute insanity, Branst tried him on a hackamore.
The lack of a bit did the trick, and Baby didn’t even turn his ears back the few times I’d landed on the sand because his trot matched my expectations of a buck.
“Just wait until we get you riding him to where it doesn’t look like you’re about to take flight all the time,” Branst called from across the arena. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d fallen, but since my helmet hadn’t hit anything and I wasn’t complaining, he expected me to get back on. I did.
I didn’t like it, but I did it anyway.
Even Morning Glory tired and opted to stand in the middle of the arena to take a well-earned nap.
Two hours after I’d lost the will to live, even Baby started to flag, and Branst ordered me to walk him for at least twenty minutes before grooming him and taking him back to his stall. He abandoned me to my work, leaving me alone in the arena with Jessica and a dark-haired, slender man in a suit around our age, a pin revealing his status as a member of the RPS. Once Branst left, Jessica hopped over the gate, and the RPS agent followed after her.
“Good riding, Pat. Baby has a rough trot, but you were getting the hang of it. Don’t feel bad about falling. I probably would’ve taken a tumble or two, too. Poor thing is trying so hard, and all he knows is to lift his legs and prance, and that’s not easy to ride. He’ll get better—or not. But you’ll get better, and it won’t look like you’re struggling to stay mounted. But if it makes you feel better, he’s damned gorgeous under the saddle.”
“Not really, but it is what it is. He paid a high price to be gorgeous.”
“And he emerged king of the hill. He’s got you to take care of him now, so don’t you go feeling bad for that horse. He’s having the time of his life. Pat, this is Geoff. He’s one of my agents, and until you have a detail of your own, he’s going to be keeping you company. He’ll also be driving you around, as I’ve been told you don’t have a license?”
“I don’t,” I admitted.
“Geoff will help you with that, too. You need someone to help you learn and be with you when you start driving, and he can help you get your learner’s permit. I told Dad I was stealing someone from my detail for you, and for once in his life, he didn’t even argue with me.”
I could make a few guesses as to why, and it included keeping the weather from taking a stormy turn again. “Nice to meet you, Geoff.”
Geoff tipped his hat. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“I’m going to leave Pat to you, Geoff, while I go wrangle my father for a while. Wish me luck. I’m going to need it. And don’t you even think about trying to escape, Pat!”
Jessica glared at me before she stormed off, and I waited until she turned the corner beyond the arena gate before asking, “Is escaping even a realistic option?”
“She’d chase you, and she’s quite stubborn.”
“Is that a no?”
“Essentially, sir.”
“Escaping seems like a lot of work.” I pondered where the line between attempted escapes and running just enough she’d chase me was drawn. “Why does she think I’m going to escape?”
“I have no idea.”
I could think of a few reasons, but I was already in too deep anyway. I didn’t want to even imagine life without a spitfire princess in it, determined to prove to everyone she was more than what most believed her to be, just a woman.
Princess Jessica of Texas would one day become a queen who’d change the world just to spite those who believed her incapable because of her gender, and I’d enjoy watching her every step of the way.
Chapter Twenty-Two
My rides—and falls—turned my back into a natural disaster area, and I handled it the only way I knew how. When someone wasn’t making me do something, include eat food I hadn’t made, a novelty that distracted me from the pain, I soaked in the tub and slept it off.
Sleeping it off didn’t work as well as I hoped, and when Tuesday morning rolled around, I’d gone from able to fake it to barely able to move without wincing.
Fortunately for me, Jessica had left earlier in the morning with the horses, so the only one I had to trick was Geoff, and tricking Geoff lasted all of five minutes before the RPS agent snorted and shook his head.
“Your riding lessons didn’t go well for your back?”
I rolled my shoulders, and we both cringed at the snaps and pops.
“Forget I asked that. Do you have a regular family doctor?”
I shook my head. “Not particularly. I’d mostly just go in for vaccinations and the rare issue.”
Like most in my caste, I couldn’t afford to get sick, so even when I did get sick, I tried to pretend everything was normal. Most places didn’t offer sick days to those in my caste, and I’d only gotten paid time off at the restaurant because nobody wanted someone who was ill working in the kitchen.
“I’ll make the arrangements. While I was expecting you to be sore following your lessons, you look like you can barely move. That should be addressed.” Geoff circled me, his expression thoughtful. “The RPS’s physician is closer than the clinics the royals prefer, and it’s better for physical injuries; we need to be in top shape to work, so injury repair is their specialization. It’ll also keep Her Royal Highness out of the loop a little longer.”
While the storm had blown over, pools of standing water reminded everyone the princess had more than her fair share of magic, earning her status as a royal. “Pretend I’m an ignorant idiot who doesn’t know any better. Why do we want to keep her out of the loop?”
Geoff pointed at the nearest puddle. “One of you is an empath, you two are a matched set, and she’s been convinced you’re sore and will be fine in a few days. She’s been tossed enough to know falling like that hurts for the next few days, so if she’s picking up anything from you, she’s not going to think twice about it. Once she finds out you’re going to the clinic to have your back checked, that could change.”
We were a what? “Pardon?”
Geoff sighed. “Which part startled you, sir?”
“I’m going with the entire damned thing, Geoff. Let’s start with the empath. I’m a horse empath.”
“Yes, you are. One of you is also a standard empath, too. You’re the most likely candidate, but I’ve been tasked to review your general behavior to determine if you have the common symptoms of a standard empath. It’s very easy to miss an empath if the empath remains specialized.”
I stared at the RPS agent. “I’m going to need you to back up and explain all that.”
“You weren’t taught about empaths?”
I arched a brow. “I’m from the lowest caste outside of nulls. Why waste time, effort, and money teaching us things we don’t need to know? We
don’t need to know about talents we don’t have.”
Geoff met my gaze, and he arched a brow as well. “Well, that will be going into my report. Things would likely be very different right now if you were properly educated on the various talents. Empathy talents are easy to miss if there’s nothing to trigger a reaction. One of you is a missed empath, and since you’re a flaring horse empath, it’s logical that you’re also a standard empath that didn’t have someone who triggered the right reaction. Empathy is an unusual talent in its fluidity. The talent will seek an outlet. Most empaths who don’t find someone to bond with become a generalized empath; they sense the emotions of those around them and are influenced by those emotions. When it happens, it has some obvious symptoms. According to your co-workers, you haven’t displayed those symptoms. However, you have displayed some of the common symptoms of separation from a bond. They assumed it was due to your filly being in surgery and recovery, not because you were forming a bond with Her Royal Highness. Frankly spoken, nobody was even aware you had a relationship with Her Royal Highness at all.”
“I thought her father had realized she was coming to see me.”
“He had figured out she was sneaking off to see someone, likely a home cook of some sort, that she felt safe with. She also began carrying prepackaged foods in her purse. Healthy from all accounts, and enough to sustain her between visits. To you, I presume.”
“I picked it up for her and told her what to get when she couldn’t visit,” I admitted. “I gave her my apartment key so she could come whenever she needed. I also told her what to look out for when purchasing from a store. I also showed her how to check for tampered drink seals and so on.”
“She’s been very careful to keep your identity a secret. I can understand why. She’s been positioning to make a move for a while, and after learning of your caste ranking, her preparations made sense. She’s a clever woman. She started with your cooking, convincing the monarchs to request your cooking. Once she heard about your horse, she manipulated the court, expressing her admiration that you would give such a poor little filly a chance. She played them expertly. She replaced your caste with values—values they have a difficult time arguing against. Then she painted her potential consorts the exact opposite. Too young. Too prejudiced. Not good with animals, horses in particular.” Geoff chuckled. “Add in her talent, and few are questioning her ability to rule.”
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