He must have noticed my presence because he looked over his shoulder and smiled.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said. “Come closer. She’s friendly.”
I chewed on my lip. “Waiting for me?”
“You’ve been watching her for two weeks now, looking so lost and scared.” He let out a small laugh. “It took you long enough to come here.”
“What’s her name?”
“She doesn’t have one yet. I’ve been waiting for you.”
I blinked in surprise. “I don’t understand….”
“This is a late wedding gift from your father-in-law. She’s yours.”
I was taken aback by his response but now it all made sense. William Spencer called me a month ago to try and convince me, once again, to come back to Spencer Manor. I simply refused and then wished him well. Before hanging up, he told me that he was preparing a wedding gift for me. But I hadn’t thought much of it.
Since his illness had been made public, my father-in-law has tried multiple times to convince me to leave the Isle behind and to come back to the mainland.
But I couldn’t.
It wasn’t because I was safe here, away from the gossips, the curious stares, and the pity.
I had made the decision for Killian. He had to focus on his father, not on his hatred for me. Because if I were there, I would be the constant reminder of what he lost, the thorn stuck under his flesh and the knife digging into his heart.
It was better if I stayed out of their way.
Even though we were married on paper, husband and wife by law – I hoped that if we didn’t cross paths, maybe Killian would finally find peace.
Maybe with someone else, a woman who suited him more than me.
I cleared my throat, looking between the stableman and my mare. “What’s your name?”
“Gideon,” he introduced himself. “At your service, milady.”
“I’m–”
He smiled, charmingly. “Julianna, I know.”
“She’s beautiful,” I whispered, taking a step closer. She sensed my presence and eyed me. I was slow in my movement, careful not to cause her any fright.
“Indeed,” Gideon agreed. He finally looked at my veiled covered face, his eyes lingering over my eyes longer. I expected pity, but there was only mild curiosity. “Mr. Spencer said she’s the perfect match for Cerberus.”
“Cerberus?” I asked, confused.
He nodded toward the tall, black stallion to my left. I hadn’t noticed him before, since all my attention was on my mare. He was in a stall, looking curiously at my horse. “Cerberus there belongs to Killian. He’s a bit of a grumpy one and can get violent. No one rides him, except Killian,” the older man explained.
I let out a scoff. Of course, Killian would have a grumpy horse to match his own violent tendencies. And of course, he named his stallion after the three-headed hound of Hades. How original of him.
“Are you scared of horses? You seem a bit stiff. She won’t hurt you; she’s very gentle.”
“I–”
Frayed nerves coursed through my veins and my legs grew shaky. I swallowed past the heavy lump in my throat. “I had a little… incident when I was ten-years-old. I was learning to ride and fell off my horse.”
It wasn’t a small incident though.
I ended up in a coma for nine days from a brain injury…
I woke up with a seizure.
And till this day…
“So, do you know how to ride a horse?” he asked, head cocked to the side curiously.
I nodded stiffly. “A little. I learned a few years ago.”
Once I was close enough to reach out and touch her, I brought a shaky hand forward. My fingers brushed against her long mane, beautiful and soft.
Gideon grasped my hand in his and helped me to caress the mare’s chest. I let out a yelp when she stomped her hooves, getting a bit antsy. “She can sense your emotions. Stay calm. Don’t be nervous.” He let go of my hand and took a small step back, letting me and my mare bond.
I kept my hand on her side, slowly caressing her. She was so soft; I liked how she felt under my fingertips. I pet her for what seemed like a long time, lost in the moment with my beautiful, white mare.
“Hey there, big girl,” I whispered, bringing my head closer to her. Slowly, I pressed my cheek against her flank. “Do you think we can be friends?”
She sighed in response.
I stepped forward and she lowered her head, bumping her nuzzle against my shoulder. Her breath was warm against my cheek. I smiled under my black veil. “Is that a yes?”
I rubbed her nuzzle softly. “God, you’re so gorgeous.”
She let out a massive breath and I feigned a gasp. “Did you just agree with me? Of course, you did. You know you’re the most beautiful thing ever.”
I gave her a scratch over her velvet nose. “Ragna.”
She snorted in response and our eyes met. “Ragna is your name.”
A moment passed, there was something in her dark gaze that matched the emotions squeezing in my heart – something I couldn’t exactly describe.
Loneliness.
Hopelessness.
Desperation for someone to see me for who I really was.
Ragna saw me. She didn’t see the veil or my sins. She didn’t care about my past or my broken heart. She didn’t judge. She saw me – Julianna.
Ragna threw her head back, her mane flying, and for the first time in a very long time, I felt myself smile. Truly, with all my heart’s content.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Ragna. We’re going to be best friends.”
Killian
A week later
I remembered the first time I saw her. Hiding behind a stack of hay, watching me prep Coal, the black stallion I was training after Bishop Romano had asked me to.
Coal was a stubborn one.
He just wouldn’t let anyone near him, let alone ride him. He had already injured two other horse trainers that Bishop had hired and when he asked for help – I couldn’t exactly say no.
Not when we were supposed to keep our relationship amical. Not when my father had warned me beforehand that Bishop would be my future father-in-law and I had to do everything to please him, enough that he’d happily hand over his daughter to me.
And especially not when I knew that Coal needed me.
Some would say I had the power to speak with horses because of how good I was with them.
I still remembered the flash of platinum blonde hair when Grace had rushed to hide when my gaze had caught her behind the hay.
“I know you’re there,” I called out, rubbing a hand over Coal’s chest. He stomped his heel and turned his head to the side, almost grumpily. “Yeah, yeah. You hate me,” I muttered to the stubborn stallion.
“You better come out now,” I said, loud enough for the girl to hear me. “I don’t like people sneaking up on me and Coal is a bit unpredictable. You might end up hurt.”
That did the job. She let out a small squeak, and from my peripheral vision, I saw her coming out from behind the stack of hay.
“And who you are, Miss…?”
She wrung her hands. “Do I have to answer that?”
“Are you a thief?” I questioned, sternly. But I already knew she wasn’t.