Page 31 of My Queendom for a Horse

I turn to look out the window, because I can’t face him while I say this. “I knew you’d keep that from happening.”

Knew might be a bit strong. I hoped he wouldn’t.

“So even though you said you didn’t want to see me, you do trust me, at least a little bit.”

“I guess I do.”

When I turn toward him, Sean’s beaming. “I’m glad you called.”

“I still think we should kill him,” Aleks mutters.

I ignore him. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“It won’t be bad at all,” Sean says. “Your dad filled out all the paperwork already.”

“Oh, I remember,” I say.

“Were you truly upset that we used Obsidian Devil as collateral?” Sean asks. “Because I need your signature on the form.”

I sigh. I can’t very well tell him that Obsidian Devil is actually a man who was trapped in a horse form, and that using a human as collateral makes me squeamish. So instead, I try an angle that might make sense. “Dad’s gambling is what put us in this mess,” I say. “And I saved us with that race—a race where I beat Obsidian Devil and six other horses on a horse I raised and own.”

“And then you spent the winnings buying another horse,” Sean says. If his tone is a little judgmental, he’s probably justified.

“I’ve never been the best at business,” I say. “And I’ve always cared too much about horses. But now something that I own is being chained up to go down with the ship my dad sank on his own.”

“Except it won’t go down,” Sean says. “I’ll loan you enough in the next twenty-four hours to make that first payment, and then we’ll get you an even better loan to repay the rest. Fair terms, flexibility, and no huge penalties.”

I should just say thank you, but it sits wrong with me. Why should Sean have to fix all our problems? I needed him today, for the looming balloon note, but I can’t really let him just walk in like my fairy godmother and wave his wand. Besides the fact that it feels wrong, then I’d owe him. “I really do appreciate the offer, and you clearly saved us today, but I think we’ll figure something out for the balance of the note.”

“I could buy your entire farm,” Aleks says. “Just take me back to Russia, and I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” I spin around in my seat, tired of his incessant commentary. “You haven’t been home in a hundred years. How exactly do you plan to buy my farm?” I roll my eyes. “Just be quiet and let the adults talk.”

Aleksandr narrows his eyes at me, but he doesn’t argue. Thankfully.

“What’s he saying?” Sean asks. He looks genuinely perplexed, and I breathe a huge internal sigh of relief. Part of me was moderately worried he might know enough Russian to be dangerous.

“Oh, nothing important. He’s incredibly bossy for someone who came here with absolutely nothing,” I say. “He has a lot of feelings about food as well, apparently.”

Sean blinks. “What does he want to eat?”

“Grass, mostly,” I say.

Sean’s brow furrows.

“I’m kidding,” I say. “He’s asking for borsch, of all things.”

“They actually have that at SkovoroTka!” Sean says, smiling like an idiot and gesturing like he’s eating soup. “Yes, they do!”

Aleksandr tilts his head and widens his eyes. I know just what he’s thinking, and it’s rude. It’s not Sean’s fault for believing our lie that Aleks only speaks Russian.

“You can’t kill him,” I say. “He’s not an idiot—he’s being nice.”

“He thinks I’m an impoverished imbecile,” Aleks says. “And I hate him.”

“You are poor,” I say, “and that may not be the only thing he’s right about.”

He glowers, but at least he doesn’t argue.

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