Page 46 of My Queendom for a Horse

Oh, no. That’s bad. Very, very bad. Latvia is full of bureaucracy, and none of it is easy to navigate. If he’s taken in, it would be very bad. I’m not sure how long it would take me to recover him, or how many people he might permanently maim in the process.

They might just decide to put him down.

“You’re such an idiot, Obsidian. Animal control?” I slide out of my heels and button my coat up tightly. “I swear, you’re going to pay for this later.”

“What?” Sean’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“I can’t let animal control take him,” I whisper. “I’m going to ride him home.”

“Without a bridle?” Sean’s eyes are wild. “You cannot possibly do that. As your boyfriend, I strongly advise against that decision. And as your financial backer, I forbid it.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” I hop the rail, and Obsidian helpfully lowers his front left leg so his stupidly high back isn’t impossible for me to reach. I hear an alarming rip coming from something on the back of my dress when I swing up onto his back, and the skirt of my already not-very-long dress slides alarmingly high on my thighs, but I’m short on options. At least I’m wearing undies. “Because this feels like my only option at the moment.”

Other than killing Obsidian.

Actually, watching Sean’s face makes me wonder if that’s a better call.

“This isn’t some Disney movie, Kris,” he says. “The insane horse isn’t going to be an angel for you. You’re very likely to break your neck.” He’s about to come over the railing after me, and that might be worse than animal control catching us, judging by the set of Obsidian’s mouth and the way he’s pawing at the ground.

“Sean, trust me. I don’t know that many things, but one thing I do know is horses.”

“And the way home?” He looks a little frantic. “Stay by the roads. I’ll pay the check and follow you home, at least. Okay?”

“I’ve got to beat animal control,” I say.

As if that’s his cue, Obsidian Devil wheels around, barely waiting for me to grab a fistful of mane before he springs away. I would kick him, but seeing as I’m bareback, barefoot, and not even wearing pants, it’s all I can do not to fall off.

That doesn’t keep me from rattling off a string of the worst profanities I know in all three languages in which I’m fluent. “You are the single worst person I’ve ever met,” I say. “And when we get home, you’re getting nothing but gruel until you die.”

He snorts and speeds up.

“You better slow down, or I’ll have you made into dog food. Or glue!” I slap his neck. “That’s a real thing they do, you know. Turn horses into glue.”

Luckily, he’s been running the whole way here, it seems, and at least he’s warm. All the energy I have to exert keeps me from freezing too much as well. But I do want to strangle him—every single step of the way home.

When we reach the barn, Sean’s already there, and he looks so conflicted it’s almost funny. It’s like relief and fury are warring inside of him, and they’re evenly matched. It’s a little offensive, when I think about it. I’m probably the most talented rider he’s ever met. I’ve never been unseated from any horse, ever. But this particular horse knows I’m on his back, wants me there—apparently—and was actively trying to make sure I wouldn’t fall. I wasn’t in any danger.

Other than the one argument we had about which bridge to take to cross the Daugava River. He won, of course. He can’t use words, but he can just go wherever he thinks is best. It’s not like I have a bit, a whip, or spurs to support my side of the argument.

“You’re alive.” As conflicted as he may look, he sounds nothing but relieved.

“I am definitely alive, and I’m furious with this idiotic stallion.” I have to remind myself that Sean has no idea he’s a person, or that I was as safe as I knew I was. “I’m freezing, too. So I hate to do this, but I have to deal with him. Is there any chance you can head home and let me?”

Sean’s face actually looks hurt, but he doesn’t argue with me. After dealing with Obsidian lately, I’m beginning to really appreciate the strong sense of pride governing Sean. It’s ironic, because it used to annoy me. “I took the liberty of bringing you warm clothing,” he says. “I’ll set it inside the barn, and then I’ll go. But please call and let me know when you’ve safely installed him in the barn and are back inside.”

He’s slow as molasses at leaving, but I guess I can’t fault him for that. He brought not only clothes, but socks and boots as well, bless him. And I’m guessing my high heels are already in my house. Dad must be as upset as Sean. I’m surprised he and John aren’t out here, yelling at me.

As if he can read my mind, Sean turns. “I told your father that you have your phone, which I assume is still true, and that you’d call him and John if you wanted them around.”

Everyone thinking that Obsidian only likes me is actually helping me, for once. “Right, of course. I do.” I pat the strap of my shoulder bag, thanking my lucky stars again that I wore my crossbody purse. “I am sorry. Our next date will be better, I promise.”

“I thought it was going pretty well until. . .” Sean trails off. “I know you like that horse, but I vote for racing him once, hopefully winning, and selling him afterward, either way. Actually, a claiming race might be—”

“I’ll deal with it,” I say. “We won’t have him for long.” Now that we’re not moving, the cold air’s stinging my skin. “I’ll call you soon, I promise.”

“I’m glad you made it back,” Sean says. “But I mean it. Sell him off—even if it’s a huge loss. I’ll figure things out from our end. That horse is crazy, and I don’t want you dealing with him any more.”

Obsidian starts to trot toward him, and I yank on his mane as hard as I can. He acts like he can’t even feel it.

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