Heart Of Smoke

Curse Those Horses

I roll out of bed the next morning due to several noisy birds outside my window. Do they have anything better to do than screech at four in the morning? I see you, Father, and I hate you. I hope they all plummet off a tree.

I run through my morning routine, consisting of thirty total minutes-twenty for feeling miserable in my room corner, five for getting dressed, and five for doing my hair. When you have a brother that gets up an hour early for his appearance, speed is key.

Speaking of keys, when I walk out into the Hall-locking my door, you have no idea what kind of creeps lurk around here and nobody wants to get flashed at twelve in the morning by my dear father-and hear my brother, up as always, singing in the goddamn shower. 

What does he think he is, actually good at singing? And who the hell would voluntarily sing the anthem of Jaunt Jolie?

Wincing, I speed past on quiet feet. His best friend-aka secret hookup-Kei is paying him a visit, so he got up two hours early today. Ugh, the birds now seem totally manageable.

Why am I slipping on my boots and walking out of the castle at four thirty in the morning? Good question. The answer is: I'm going to ride a horse.

My father the illustrious dancer still despises me with every centimeter of his nonexistent heart to this day for sneaking out and riding a horse outside of the grounds when I was supposed to be sucking up to Rhian or something. Ever since then, I've turned my liking of horses into a secret, ridiculously early event that nobody else would possibly be up for. Minus Rhian, of course, but he's busy being a poster boy.

I finally reach the stables, carved of magnificent honey-colored oak, and enter without a sound. Evelyn likely knows what I'm doing, but hasn't called me out for three years, so I think I'm okay. Despite me being caught several times by High King Bathrobe Stripper. I slip through the hay until I reach a stall near the end.

Whispering soft nonsense, I stretch a hand through the bars, and soon enough, a warm brown nose nuzzles my hand. 

"Hey, Fani," I hush as she comes fully into view. I slip a sugar cube out of my pocket and open her stall. She's already saddled-thank the stable boy-and ready to go. She gobbles down the sugar cube and nudges my shoulder for more. With a sigh, I give her a few more before grabbing her bit.

She nickers lightly as I lead her outside, the light rain from the previous night casting a thin mist out over the tops of the distant trees. I mount her, smiling slightly as the gray skies roll overhead.

"Ready?"

She bobs her head, then breaks into a light trot. We move across the grass for a few minutes until we reach the old riding paths near the back of the castle-essentially our backyard. Once on the trails, we take the left path and set off.

One time, I took the right and nearly ran us straight off a dip in the path that tumbles into a river below. That was fun-I almost had a heart attack at four in the morning. Nobody would've even found my body; they would've assumed I ran away and given up. Such is the life of a second-best in the eyes of a ruling perfectionist!

Fani and I round another bend, past a small sign with letters so worn away by the wind and rain that the lettering is impossible to read. I used to scare children of the court by telling them a story about someone getting killed back around here and eating any kids while they sleep. That certainly made me a crowd favorite.

Her brown coat gleams beneath my hand as I pat her, grateful to have a friend in this dreaded situation. Despite all of everything, a ride with her always calms me down. There's something about being alone early in the morning with another life form that won't mock or ridicule you-