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Ken chuckles. “I got her. Just hold on.”
The horse prances in circles around Ken, and after a couple of tiny laps, a hysterical laugh bubbles out of me.
“This is amazing!”
I can’t believe I’ve never asked Felix to let me ride a horse before when the lord was out. I was always too afraid.
“It’s going to be a bumpy ride, but we really need to get out of here, so hold on tight.”
Movement in my peripheral catches my attention, but when I whip my head toward it, there’s nothing there. The breeze stills and the chirping in the trees grows awfully quiet again. Goosebumps rise on my arms.
“Aw, here we go,” Ken says. I’m expecting him to jump on behind me, so I’m caught off guard when he slaps the horse on the rear and yells, “Take her back to court, Merry!”
“Wait—ahhh!” The scream rips from my lips as Merry bolts through the forest, zigzagging through the trees and soaring over the bushes and brambles that line our path. I squeeze my eyes shut and throw myself forward, gripping the poor horses’ neck for dear life.
Everything Ken instructed me to do goes out the window, as I grab ahold as tight as I can, battling to stay centered.
Felix once said I’d love horseback riding.
He was wrong.
It’s awful.
All my thoughts of Char, the lord and lady, the woods, and Ken’s mysterious friend fall to the wayside. If there was anything in my stomach, I would’ve spewed it all over Merry.
With each gallop, my still-raw arse aches, reminding me of my unhealed wounds. My thighs scream and bugs pelt me in the face. It’s a new form of abuse.
Maybe it’s the circumstance to blame, but I hate horseback riding.
By the time the horse slows, the skin between my mid-upper thighs is chafed as raw as my backside. I ache in new places. Ken is nowhere to be found, so I decide to dismount. It’s a battle to swing my leg over the horse, and when I finally succeed, I plop down and my legs buckle beneath me. I crumple to the ground.
My eyes fill with tears.
“Oh gods,” I cry out. “Sorry, Merry,” I tell the horse as she stomps away to chomp on nearby vegetation.
I shake out my hands, reminding myself that I’m alive. That’s what matters.
With a few deep breaths, I push myself back to a stand, biting my tongue to keep my groans at bay. I need to be okay—for Char.
Though the sun has tucked itself away behind silver clouds, the air is still comfortable—warm even. I sniffle away the tears, finally taking a moment to observe what lies before me.
Roses wind around the bars of a tall, pointy, black-iron gate built into a towering stone wall. From between the bars I can make out a stepping stone path that leads through a vibrant green yard, right up to the most magnificent structure I’ve ever seen.
The pale, weathered stone of the castle matches the wall and pathway, with moss stretching up four or five stories high. Spires and steeples stab the overcast sky, as if attempting to poke holes in the clouds. Some of the windows are colorful, the glass stained with art.
It’s breathtaking.
Merry whinnies from somewhere behind me. An eerie feeling crawls up the back of my neck, and I twist around, squinting at the trees.
When the overgrown bushes at the edge of the woods rustle, my forehead crinkles. I hope to the gods it’s Ken and not something else.
The bushes shake again, and Merry whinnies, taking off alongside the stone wall. My jaw slackens, my mouth falling open as an animal clamors out.
It’s a large, terrifying creature. With an abundance of brown fur, dark beady eyes, and claws larger than my head. It prowls toward me on all fours.
My chest tightens as I scurry backward until my back hits the iron bars. “Gods, no. Please no!”
The bear moves at an unhurried pace, eyeing me with curiosity. It doesn’t snarl or snap. It shows no signs of aggression, but that does little to reassure me. Maybe it’s another hallucination.
