Page 86 of My Dark Horse Prince

“Then we’ll say it’s not the same one,” Kris says. “It’s not like he plans to live here as a horse. It’s fine.”

“And he’s not going to lose,” Aleks says. “Trust me.”

He did just win the Grand National with Kristiana, in spite of people tampering with their tack.

“Hey,” I say. “What ever happened with the investigation into whoever cut your strap?”

Kris sighs. “It’s pretty disappointing, really. They found quite a bit of evidence that it was Rex McComb, and he rammed into me during the regirth, right before the race began. But it was deemed inconclusive, and I think they’re going to let it go.”

“That last letter intimated that it didn’t matter anyway, since you’d won,” Aleks says.

“It’s an email,” Kris says. “It came electronically, remember? And the reason they’re letting it go is that they found hair from Earl Grey on the girth—and Jackson Buley’s a real piece of work, too. Since they couldn’t determine, decisively, which of the two might have done it, it wasn’t right to come down on either of them.”

“I still think it might be that Finn guy.” Aleks frowns.

“Finn McGee?” I ask. “Isn’t he your best guy friend of, like, more than ten years?”

“Thirteen,” Kris says. “Aleks has this unreasonable dislike of him.”

“First of all, he’s a terrible rider, always yanking on my face,” Aleks says. “And besides that, he called Kris up when he found out she’d already left and told her he loved her.” He scoffs, paying far too little attention to the road, if anyone asks me. Which they never do. “Tell me that’s not disturbing.”

“Isn’t the friends-to-lovers story like the oldest one ever told?” I shrug. “I always thought he had a crush on you, and as far as he knew, Obsidian Devil wasn’t an impediment to telling you how he felt.” I can’t help smirking. Stirring Aleks up is too fun.

“See?” Kris shrugs. “I said that, too. I mean, I told him I’m with Aleks, and he was disappointed, but he let it go. There’s no way he would have cut my girth. He’d have cut his own first.”

“There’s something off about him,” Aleks says.

“You’re just jealous,” I say. “Which is cute, but misdirected. Kris would never date a guy who was the same size she is. She likes her men big, rich, and bossy, apparently.”

Kris snorts.

“I’m not bossy,” Aleks says. “I do as I’m told.”

“Agree to disagree,” Kris says.

And then we’re turning down the drive of Kristiana’s family farm. Liepašeta is the closest thing to home I’ve ever had, and I can’t help it that my heart swells when we turn down the driveway. I have no right to feel this way, but I’m proud every time I see it.

But it also means I’m about to have to confront Grigoriy and ask him if he’ll help me beat Brigita. I’ll need to ride him every single day, sometimes for a really long time, and put a pounding on his joints going over hugely high jumps.

And that’s not even the hard part.

He’s going to be at risk. No matter what Aleks says, Brigita will not be keen to let me anywhere near her new horse, and she will throw an all-out fit if he disappears. I’ll be her number one target. This could go very, very badly all around if we don’t win. It feels like Grigoriy will be risking more than anyone else.

Plus, I imagine Grigoriy will be worried about my leg, just like Kris. I wouldn’t be surprised if his biggest hang-up, instead of being the risk to himself, is the possible damage to my leg. Why didn’t that stupid dead doctor do the bone graft? Why couldn’t he have done what he said he’d do—and then it hits me.

“Do you think that maybe Dr. Hubert did a lousy job on the surgery. . .because he knew those people were just going to come and kill me anyway?”

Aleks slams the car into park.

Kris spins around in the seat and stares at me, her mouth dropping open. “No. He wouldn’t, right?”

“Would you spend a lot of time fixing up and remodeling furniture you knew was going to be destroyed?”

Kris’s shoulders slump. “Do you really think he knew they were going to kill you?”

“I have no idea,” I say. “But it seems strange, doesn’t it? He didn’t do the surgery he said he’d do, the surgery he prepped to do, and then it turns out he was being paid by the people who came to kill me?” If that one interaction on the train caused all these problems for me. . .

I like to think that I’d have done the same thing anyway.

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