“Must be the shoulder, then,” she teases back, grinning.
Tommy grins right back. I’m not certain it’s possible to not smile back at Mirth when she smiles at you. “It ain’t nothing.”
I scuff my foot on the floor, already stepping forward so it doesn’t seem as though I paused to watch them at all. Mirthstraightens from hanging over the edge of the balcony, glancing back but not really looking at me.
Tommy glowers.
Kitty grins, wide and welcoming. For the second time.
And this time, I shove all my other shit away, all the shit I carried with me into the Royal Household Box below, and I grin right back at the young girl.
“How good is your rider?” Kitty asks me, perfectly serious. “Does Perseus like them?”
“It has more to do with trust than like,” I say. “I’m not sure Perseus likes many people. Maybe just Mirth and my cousin, Bev.”
“We’re still working on trust …” Mirth murmurs. “Perseus and me.”
That knifes me through the heart. Because even though she’s referencing the night she scared the shit out of both of us, My Highness isn’t just talking about the horse.
Only a few weeks ago, I pulled her off Perseus’s back before he could slam her into the fencing …
Only a few weeks.
To fall for Mirth hard and fast, so fast.
Only a few weeks to make a lifetime commitment …
Actually, that part didn’t take more than a minute.
I try to catch Mirth’s gaze, but she’s an expert at not quite looking where she doesn’t want to look. The sunglasses don’t help. I’ve always disliked them, though I know she wears them for more than sun protection.
“Who is the rider, then?” Tommy asks.
“Andrea Quinn,” I say, stepping close enough that I can see the central vid display screen and a portion of the track. “Her stats should be up on the screen now. Andi’s ridden my horses for just over a year. Only time and a few races will let us know if she’s a good pairing with Perseus.” I point to the large screenwhere they’re now running the stats on the horses and the jockeys, including pictures of both beast and rider. The betting is still open while each rider does a single slow canter with their horse around the track. “There.”
Mirth follows my gesture, then goes very still. “Andrea Quinn,” she murmurs. “Andi. I thought she was one of your trainers. I saw her at Waterfell.”
“That too,” I say, swallowing through a sudden twisting sensation at the base of my throat.
“Are those good stats, then?” Tommy asks.
“Fair,” I say, still talking around that odd phantom pain. “Not as experienced as most of the other jockeys racing today. You’ll see when you compare. But Andi’s win ratio is just as high.”
The next horse in the race— a four-year-old black thoroughbred with white points— starts its loop of the track on the opposite side of the stadium from where Andi is exiting on Perseus.
“Oh, pretty!” Kitty exclaims.
“But not as fast as Perseus,” I say smugly. “We’ve only got a few minutes until the race. Elias wants both of you to eat something, and Sully needs to look at your arm, Tommy.”
“It’s fine,” Tommy mumbles even as he’s already moving. The idea of some extra pain relief clearly isn’t as bad as he’s making it seem.
“Mirth and I will be right down.” I touch Kitty’s shoulder, directing her to follow her brother.
Tommy stops abruptly, looking at Mirth. “We can wait.”
“Take the binoculars,” Mirth says, perfectly pleasant. “You can watch the replay on the monitors, but you’re going to want to focus on the finish line during Perseus’s actual race.”
Tommy nods a little hesitantly. But when Kitty offers him her hand, he takes it. His little sister drags him through the door, leaving it open.
