Page 35 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

I jog to catch up, and then we head for the stables.

Viridian is quiet. I am, too. Only, instead of feeling the need to fill the silence, like I would with Loren, I feel calm. Relaxed. There’s no pressure for me to say something. No awkwardness in the silence.

It’s… Refreshing.

Viridian leads the horse to the stables and into the nearest open stall. The horse obediently stays put, merely shaking its mane. Viridian crosses the stables and removes a brush from a hook on the wall, and then returns to the horse.

Craning his neck down, he places the brush on the horse’s coat and begins to brush it in long, smooth strokes. It’s not long before he falls into a rhythm, and he moves with such ease that I can’t help but think he’s done this before. Many, many times.

I cock my head, the corner of my mouth tugged upward, into a questioning look.

“You groom your own horse?”

“Yes,” Viridian glances at me, amusement playing at those delicious-looking lips. “I’m sure you find that shocking.”

As much as I don’t want him to be right, I can’t say otherwise. I didn’t expect that from him.

“I thought such a menial task would be beneath you.”

He pauses, turning his face to look at me. “So because I’m the Crown Prince, I can’t enjoy ‘menial tasks?’ Now whose the one making assumptions based on one’s birth?”

“I didn’t—” I stammer. “I didn’t mean—”

“Relax, Little Fawn.” Viridian grins at me, and sure enough, I do find the tension in my shoulders fading. “I’m only poking fun.”

Still, I turn my face and cross my arms.

We’re quiet for a moment.

“It soothes me,” Viridian says at last. “Grooming the horse. It’s one of the rare moments I have to myself. You’d be surprised at how difficult it is to slip away.”

“Oh.” My expression softens. I’d never thought of it like that before.

“Yes.” He lets out a long, tired sigh.

I step forward, holding out my hand. “May I?”

Viridian’s mouth brightens. “Of course.”

I stroke the horse’s dark coat. “What’s his name?”

“Nightfoot,” Viridian tells me, eyes on the horse. He raises his fingers to the horse’s muzzle. The creature tips its head forward in response.

“Nightfoot,” I repeat, still moving my hand back and forth. “He seems to like you.”

“He does,” Viridian smiles.

“And you seem to like him, too.”

“I do.” He turns those amber eyes onto me now, meeting my gaze.

I hold his stare for a moment, before looking away. A blush rises to my cheeks.

Viridian does the same, pressing his lips together. He adjusts his grip on the brush before returning it to its spot on the wall.

I back away from Nightfoot, giving Viridian room to close the stall door and secure the latch.

“You should try to get some sleep,” he says softly.

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