Page 45 of My Queendom for a Horse

He’s not wrong. I do like it. It’s a little pricey, but heaven knows Sean wouldn’t care. “Great. Let’s go there.”

Of course, when we get there, they’ve lost his reservation. It is Latvia, after all. Nothing ever runs smoothly. Sean looks nearly apoplectic.

“It’s fine,” I say, placing my hand on his forearm.

“We can offer you seats on the patio,” the attendant’s saying.

“The patio? It’s thirty-nine degrees outside.” Sean’s eyes are flashing, and his forearm muscles are clenched tight.

“They have nice gas heaters.” I point. “I actually like the patio, especially when it’s cold.”

Sean relaxes visibly when I say that. “Really?”

I haven’t actually tried it, but there are three or four other couples sitting out there already, and they don’t look miserable. The heaters have bright red elements that seem to be humming away.

“Alright. We’ll try it,” he finally says.

I’m a little nervous they’re going to spit in our food, so I specifically look for things that don’t have a thick sauce, like the filet.

“How’s the macaroni—”

I grab Sean’s hand. “Their fish is also excellent. Every variety I’ve tried.”

His brow furrows, but he follows my lead.

Luckily, the patio isn’t bad at all. It’s warm enough that my breath doesn’t even puff out in a cloud. “See?” I ask as the waiter leaves. “This is nice. And there are fewer people, so it’s cozier.”

Which is absolutely true, all the way through dinner. We’ve just ordered dessert when it becomes false. Because an enormous black horse gallops to a stop about eight inches away from us, his nostrils flaring, his sides heaving, his eyes wild.

“Is that—?” Sean stands up, his hands splayed outward. “Is that your horse?”

I sigh. “Obsidian Devil, how on earth did you get loose?”

“And how did he find you? We’re almost a twenty-minute drive by car from your house.” Sean looks poleaxed.

I would agree with him—except we’re only half a mile away from the place we came for lunch, and Aleks was paying close attention to the surrounding area that day. Most of the decent restaurants are in the same vicinity in Daugavpils.

Stupid blighter got lucky. “What on earth are you doing here?” Obsidian glares at me, like this whole mess is somehow my fault.

I guess my plan to tell him I forgot wasn’t, perhaps, the best one. I wonder how he opened the stall door from the inside. “I should probably take him home.”

Except I’m wearing a dress. And a fairly thin, relatively fancy coat, knowing I’d spend most of the night in a car and a heated restaurant. My hand is literally itching to slap Aleks right now. Whether he wanted to come on my date or not, that’s my decision to make, not his.

Sean blinks. “I mean, how would you even get him home? We don’t have a halter.” He waves the waiter down, which isn’t hard. Every single person on the patio is standing up, staring slack-jawed at the fabulously beautiful horse who’s simply standing in front of me.

Until he neighs louder and longer than I’ve ever heard him neigh. It’s almost like a battle cry, if I’m being honest.

And he’s staring right at Sean when he does it.

“I know it’s crazy,” Sean says, “but I feel like that horse doesn’t like me.”

Obsidian snorts and manages to literally blow snot on Sean.

I’m thinking it’s not all in his head.

Sean’s grimacing and using his napkin to try and wipe it off when people start to pour out of the door that leads to the inside of the restaurant.

A man with a shocking amount of white hair seems to be in charge. “Don’t worry,” he says. “We’ve called the police, and animal control is on their way.”

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