Raven paced the length of her stall, her long tail swishing back and forth. Brea stood frozen on the other side of the stall door. How did she get here? She’d ridden horses most of her life. But birthing one? Memories assaulted her of her last day with Myles. They sat in class talking about his horse, Captain, a mare who’d given birth while Brea was at the Clarkson Institute. But Myles wouldn’t have stood back, frozen in fear.
No, he’d be in there comforting her.
Master Arturo busied himself laying fresh straw. “The straw has to be clean,” he explained. “So it won’t stick to the foals.”
Brea nodded as if she took in every one of his words, but white noise invaded her mind. Myles should be there, not her. He’d have loved working in the stables and birthing horses.
Master Arturo continued talking. “We shouldn’t have to do much to help her. Horses are amazing creatures and can do this pretty much on their own.”
“What’s happening?” a deep voice said over Brea’s shoulder, a voice she’d recognize anywhere.
“What are you doing here, Loch?” He wasn’t exactly the kind to hang out in barns or care whether a horse gave birth safely. In fact, she didn’t know if he cared about anything at all. Well, except Alona.
“You left the party, and I...” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“You what?” She didn’t have the energy for his vague words, not with the twins coming and the worry about Myles consuming everything she was.
“I don’t know.”
“Brea,” Master Arturo called. “I need you to come tie Raven’s tail.”
Brea threw a look over her shoulder at Lochlan. “Maybe you should figure it out. Excuse me, I have something much more important to do than sit at another party.” As if the words lent her strength, she pushed open the stall door and entered the wide space. Since getting pregnant, Raven had been kept in the front stall which was three times as large as the others.
Considering the pacing pony for a moment, Brea pulled a ribbon from her own hair and approached. “Hey, girl.” She offered her a kind smile and reached out to run a hand down her velvety neck. “You’re going to be just fine.”
Raven stopped moving, letting Brea draw her hand down her back. “Myles used to tell me horses were much more intelligent than us. More kind. More courageous. I think he was right.” She released a shaky breath as she thought of her friend. If she could believe her moms at all about Myles being just as important to rescue as Alona, she’d see him again.
The problem was she didn’t know how much she trusted them. Alona was just an idea to her, some girl who got to live the life that should have been Brea’s. She didn’t know her. But Myles… he was a part of her.
Using the ribbon, she tied up Raven’s tail, and she could imagine why Master Arturo insisted on it.
“Okay, Brea,” he said. “Now, we must back away and give her space, so we don’t add to her stress. I am going to fetch a couple of stable boys from the party. You stay here and watch. We fae have many kinds of magic, but this here is unlike any other you’ll see.”
He hurried from the stall and down the long hall. Brea kept the stall door open as she stood on the threshold.
“Where is your goat?” The sound of Lochlan’s voice made her jump. She hadn’t realized he was still there.
“The dog is goat sitting.”
“Because that doesn’t sound ridiculous at all.”
Brea jerked her gaze toward Raven as the pony lay down and rolled onto her side. Brea looked toward the barn door, hoping to see Master Arturo appear, but no one came.
“It’s happening,” she hissed. Where was Myles when she needed him?
“It can’t be happening,” Lochlan whispered back. “We’re the only ones here.”
“I don’t think Raven cares about that.”
The pony let out a groan.
“I think she’s pushing. What do we do?” Brea bounced on her toes as magic tingled in her fingertips, latching onto her fear and excitement.
“Calm down.” Lochlan gripped her arm. “Even I can feel your magic building. You don’t want to scare Raven.”
He was right. Brea clenched her fists at her sides, surprised when the power obeyed her and shrank away. They hadn’t been lying to her. It was her eighteenth birthday, and she truly did have more control.
They continued to watch Raven until Master Arturo’s voice called to them. “I’m here! I’m here!”
Brea glanced behind him but saw no stable boys. “Where’s your help?”
He huffed as he reached them. “Not in any state to help with a birthing.” His scowl told them everything they needed to know.
The stable boys he could find were drunk.
“It seems you two will have to assist.”
Lochlan’s eyes widened. “I don’t—”
“Of course, we will.” Brea shot Lochlan a look. He may be a prince of Iskalt and the Eldur queen’s surrogate son, but that wouldn’t save him tonight. “Tell us what you need us to do.”
“Well, first, we wait.”
Lochlan stood tense beside Brea as they watched Raven strain until two feet appeared.
“What do we do?” Brea whispered.
“Patience, my lady.” A gleam shone in Master Arturo’s eye.
When Brea was told she could spend her time in the stables instead of bored at the palace, she’d never imagined she’d get to witness something like this. As more of the foal’s legs appeared, she leaned forward, not wanting to miss a single thing.
Master Arturo was right. This was a truer kind of magic.
Sliding the stall door open, Master Arturo entered slowly. “Push, girl.” He looked back over his shoulder as if considering Brea. “All right, my lady. You can come in.”
Brea almost wished he hadn’t let her. What if she messed this up like she had a tendency to mess everything else up? The lantern flickered, casting shadows on the walls as she moved. If she knew how, she’d have used magic to light up the entire stall. But her magic was useless in the face of such an enormous task. Bringing a life—two lives—into the world.
“Brea, you need a cloth to grip the foal’s legs.”
She looked back at Lochlan and pursed her lips. “Give me your jacket.”
For once, he didn’t argue with her. He slid the dark jacket down his arms and held it out to her.
Master Arturo shook his head. “We have horse blankets you can use.”
She smirked and dropped her voice so only he could hear. “I know.”
With a shake of his head, he crouched down and gestured for her to follow suit, speaking softly the entire time. “Okay, Lady Brea, grip the foal’s legs but don’t pull. You need to wait for her to push, and then you apply pressure.”
A slimy sack covered the legs, and Brea held back bile rising in her throat. She could do this. For Raven. But also for Myles. He’d be proud of her.
They went through cycles of Raven pushing and Brea helping the foal out before Master Arturo finally told her it was okay to pull. Once the shoulder was out, the rest came more easily until there was a new black pony in Eldur.
“It’s a girl.” Master Arturo grinned. “Lochlan, we need your help. There’s still one more.”
Lochlan reluctantly entered the stall. “W-what do I need to do?”
“Fetch a blanket from the stack I put at the other end of the stall and rub the foal down. Make sure she’s completely free of the sac.”
Brea didn’t get the satisfaction of watching Lochlan actually do work in the stables because Raven started pushing again.
Before long, two new female ponies lay on their sides in the clean straw, one white and one black.
Brea rubbed the white one down, cleaning her black socks. She glanced up, meeting Lochlan’s eyes as the black pony rested her head in his lap.
The smock Brea wore didn’t protect her gown from getting filthy, but she no longer cared. It didn’t matter that the woman calling herself her mom just revealed to all of Eldur that Brea was an escaped Fargelsian princess, or that she knew without a doubt they wished Alona had been sitting in her place.
Even her fear for Myles faded away for this moment, a moment she shared with Lochlan O’Shea of all people. Her cheeks burned as she remembered helping him heal, and the feel of his skin against hers.
She shifted her eyes away, not wanting to see him as more than the entitled prince she thought he was. Arrogant. Cruel.
Also protective.
The white pony—it would need a name—climbed to its feet, its legs wobbling slightly. She looked at Brea, her wide amber eyes seeing past the false smiles and sarcasm, almost like she could read the fear in Brea’s heart. She nudged the side of her head, and that was it.
Brea Robinson was in love.
###
Brea didn’t know how long she stayed at the stables, but she trudged back toward the palace with Lochlan at her side, wishing they’d decided to ride. Exhaustion from the day’s events tugged at her, both good and bad.
She couldn’t face anyone at the palace—not with the way she ran from her own party—least of all her moms. She was grateful Lochlan didn’t insist on speaking. He was a silent presence beside her, and for once, she didn’t want to argue with him. Watching him care for the foal would be the image of him she’d hold onto each time they went to battle against each other, each time he annoyed her to the point of rage.
Rowena met them at the gates, her arms crossed over her chest. “Where have you been, my lady?”
Brea sighed. “Have you been waiting for me here all night?”
“Of course not. A guard saw the two of you coming up the path. Your mothers were quite distressed.”
“Rowena,” Lochlan barked. “Not tonight. Lady Brea was assisting me with an important matter. You can tell that to the queen.”
Brea looked to him in shock. He was… helping her?
Rowena, looking thoroughly chastised, backed down. “Yes, of course, sir.”
Lochlan trudged past them, his soiled jacket draped over one arm like a badge of honor.
“I need a bath, Rowena.” Brea glanced down at her ruined gown. “And a way to destroy this without my moms taking notice.”
To her maid’s credit, she didn’t worry over the dress. “So, where were you two, really?” She lifted a brow.
“Birthing two ponies.”
Rowena stopped walking. “I was… not expecting that.”
“What were you expecting?” Brea asked.
“Something sordid.” Brea’s face must have shown her disgust because Rowena laughed. “I found him in your bed, Brea. It’s not that odd for me to think there is something betwixt you.”
“Betwixt us?” Brea covered a laugh with a cough and nodded to the guards at the door before passing them. “I’m not even sure Loch has feelings, and certainly none for me.”
“Your moms once held hope for him and Alona.”
Brea raised a brow. “Okay.”
“Without magic, Alona was—is—destined to join the serving class. She cannot take over her mother’s rule as queen. But, she could marry a king and be saved her fate.”
“And Loch is the rightful heir to the Iskalt throne.” It made sense. “So, why did they give up that hope?”
“He changed. The queen began sending him on missions no one other than her knew the meaning of when he was fifteen. He’d be gone for weeks at a time and never came back the same. After that, he wouldn’t entertain the thought of courting Alona.”
They reached Brea’s room, and Rowena got to work starting a bath, but Brea wanted to know more. Lochlan, the man who’d lost his parents and his throne when he was four years old only to be given to a foreign kingdom. The one who called his own brother an enemy but would do anything to save Alona.
And, of course, the man who’d held a newborn pony and looked more content than she’d ever seen him.
That guy was a contradiction, and unraveling his secrets would be the perfect distraction to keep from thinking of Myles every moment of every day.
“Lochlan O’Shea,” she whispered. “Who are you really?”