“You!” I said. “You’re the one she spoke to. I’m looking for Arvin. Princess Giselle’s horse. Did you find him?”
Philip removed the straw from his mouth. “Lark here has come to make a farewell visit to that magnificent steed she rode into our kingdom.”
The amusement still laced his voice, so I glared at him.
“My name isn’t Lark.”
“No, but I heard you don’t like your real one,” he said, undaunted by my cold tone.
I bit my lip. Word really did spread fast in this palace.
“Do I look like I have wings to you?” I snapped, still galled that he could find Arvin’s fate amusing.
“Short for Larkspur,” he said, returning the straw to his mouth, his eyes laughing at me. “Your eyes are the exact same shade of blue as the larkspur my grandmother has in her garden back home.”
I put my hands on my hips. “So you’ve named me for a poisonous weed, then?”
“You wound me, Lark,” he said, looking entirely unperturbed. “I wouldn’t call it a weed.”
I narrowed my eyes, but before I could say anything, the groom stepped in.
“Ignore Philip. The rest of us do. He should have started by reassuring you that we are not in the business of putting down perfectly healthy animals here in Arcadia.”
I let out a long, shaky breath, gripping a nearby stall door for support.
“I will say he’s rather an odd animal, though,” the groom added.
I laughed, my relief making it sound slightly hysterical. “That would be putting it mildly.”
“Harry, by the way,” he said.
“Lark,” Philip interjected, before I could respond.
“Elle,” I said firmly, keeping my attention on Harry.
“It seems someone on that ship of yours doesn’t know horses very well,” Harry said. “I can’t imagine how they came to the conclusion he was dying.”
“Although it’s a little easier to see how they thought he was in pain,” Philip said, surprising a reluctant snort of amusement out of me. How Arvin would love to hear his haughty aloofness compared to a stomachache.
“I didn’t think he could be so very ill,” I said, trying to choose my words carefully to avoid being silenced by the enchantment.
“I’m sure your princess will be overjoyed by the news,” Philip said, still watching me with that strange look of amusement. “I suppose you’ll want to run off immediately to tell her?”
“Oh, didn’t you hear?” I asked innocently. “I look after geese now, not princesses.”
“An upgrade then.” His eyes laughed at me.
I glared back, although he could hardly be expected to guess I was a princess myself.
“I suppose the next one of us to see her will have to pass on the good news,” Harry said in an utterly bland voice.
“Yes, indeed. We wouldn’t want to keep her in grieving suspense,” Philip replied in grave tones.
I looked at Harry and then back to Philip.
“An excellent plan.” A smile twitched at my lips, pulling them upward, my irritation with Philip fading away.
Clearly these men had a loyalty to their horses that transcended even royalty, and they knew when something was off, even if they didn’t know what it was. It might be weeks before Sierra discovered Arvin was still alive. And there was little she could do when that moment came. She couldn’t order her horse killed for no reason—not when she had a character to maintain.
“Is he in here?” I asked. “Can I see him?”
Philip laughed. “You should have seen the look of disdain he gave the first stall we offered him. In the end, poor Harry had to give him one of the larger stalls they normally reserve for brooding mares.”
I chuckled. “That sounds about right. Is it down the end?”
I began walking, eager to see Arvin with my own eyes, and the two men trailed behind. I had thought Arvin might hear us and put his head out to greet me, but there was no sign of him.
I found him two stalls before the end of the building. He was focused on munching his way through a bucket of oats, and when I called his name, he merely flicked an ear back in my direction.
“Let me guess,” I said. “He refused the hay?”
“We know not to offer such an insult again,” Philip said wryly.
“If you put him out to pasture, he’ll eat grass,” I said.
Reluctantly, Arvin huffed.
“But he’ll only accept oats, corn, and apples from humans,” I finished before turning back to the horse. “Greetings to you too.”
You’re forgetting sugar cubes.
I let myself into his stall, closing the half-door behind me. The two men immediately leaned against it, watching us with interest.
That worm tried to have me killed, Arvin said. I told you we should have left her behind.
I sighed. “You were right, as it turned out.”
I believe I’ve mentioned before that you should accept I’m always right. It’s for your own good.
I laughed shakily, burying my face in his mane to hide the tears suddenly filling my eyes. I never thought I would be so glad to hear his strange voice.
What are you blubbering about? he asked. You can’t imagine I would have let them kill me, do you?
Hearing him say it filled me with a certainty that he was right, however illogical it seemed, which only succeeded in making me feel like a fool. I pulled away, my tears gone.
“For all his temperament, he’s an impressive animal,” Harry said, looking over Arvin’s form appreciatively. “Are all horses like that in Eldon? There’d be a market for them here in the Four Kingdoms if they are.”
I shook my head. “No, Arvin is one of a kind, I’m afraid.”
“Where did he come from?” Philip asked.
“You’d have to ask the princess about that,” I said, with perverse satisfaction. The knowledge of Arvin’s origins hadn’t been shared outside of my immediate family. Let Sierra struggle to come up with an answer.
I turned back to whisper my news to Arvin. “Tomorrow I start my new role as a goose girl. So I’m not sure when I’ll be able to visit you.”
He paused in his eating and directed a repressive eye toward me.
I think you’re forgetting who is in whose charge. I will visit you if needful.
“What, not even a little surprise at hearing I’ve become a goose girl?” I asked.
He returned to his oats. I could smell the enchantment on you as soon as you walked into the stables. I would have smelled it as soon as you got out of the carriage, but I was forced to contend with a number of pesky grooms who were attempting to herd me. Me! Can you imagine?
I could imagine, and I had to stifle a chuckle of amusement at the mental image. Not that his explanation made much sense. I hadn’t been enchanted to become a goose girl. But it didn’t seem worth the bother of pointing that out. Arvin didn’t like to acknowledge any fallibility, and apparently only imminent danger to my life was enough to rouse his concern.
“Well, if you’re happy here, I’ll leave you be, then,” I said.
He flicked his tail. Happy would be a stretch.
I rolled my eyes. “Have a good night, Arvin.”