He drops his hand from the horse, studying me. “I thought you were braver than that.” He watches me closely.
I’m not sure what gave him that impression, but I’m happy to correct it. I refuse to tear my gaze away from the horse, which, upon realizing I have no treats, turns toward Essos and nuzzles him to see if he has something in his pocket.
“I will not be baited into this, Essos,” I hiss.
Clearly, he does have something in his pocket, because the horse tries to gnaw on it.
Gently, he pushes the horse away and walks to me. He touches my shoulders before sliding his hands down to mine. He holds them a moment, ducking his head and forcing me to look at him. “If you really don’t want to, you don’t have to, but I’m asking you to give Abbott and Costello a chance. Just five minutes, and if you’re not comfortable, then we leave.”
My eyebrows shoot up.“Seriously, with the names? Are you a comedian too?” I focus on that instead of the fear coursing through my veins. Essos won’t let me get trampled to death if he really is hell-bent on one-upping his brother.I don’t think Essos would let me get trampled either way, really. I let out a shaky breath, and peer around him at the horses. “Fine,” I relent.
Essos is gentle in introducing me to each horse, starting off slow, petting them before feeding them some treats. While we stand there, he tells me the story of how he came to own them—a gift from his brother-in-law—and how they got their names. Finn named them, a joke that Essos didn’t understand at first but now does.
Abbott nuzzles my hand for another sugar cube, and Essos produces one from his pocket for her.
After a half hour of me getting to know the horses, Essos grabs a brush and shows me how to use it. I eventually start to relax, and Essos seems to catch this change in my demeanor.
“Do you want to try riding? We’ll start slow. I promise, you can trust me and these horses.”
I look into his eyes and want so badly to trust him. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more. My heart is shouting at me to trust him, but at the same time, my brain is reminding me what Galen has said and shown me, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to get past that. But Essos hasn’t tried to harm me in any way since I’ve come here, and my gut is chiming in to trust him as well.
I place my hand in his, taking the leap. “Show me the way.”
Essos leads the horse to a step-up block and helps me get situated on Abbott. I refused his offer to change—if I’m not long for the Calling, this might be my only chance to ride in a dress, because I am certainly never getting on a horse again.
Essos adjusts my feet in the stirrups and shows me how to keep my heels down. He takes the reins and leads us around the paddock so I can get used to being on Abbott while he’s on the ground, ready to jump in at any moment. He gives me pointers on how to move with the horse, how to control her using my legs and the reins, how to stop and how to nudge her forward and ask her to trot. At first, I bounce around like a sack of potatoes, but Essos tells me to lean back and let my hips sway with Abbott’s movements, and soon I’m feeling less like a disaster. Once I’m comfortable guiding Abbott at the walk, Essos climbs onto Costello. He leads us to the beach, his hands still holding my reins.
“Let me guess—horse riding was never at the top of your must-do lists?” he asks. His attention never leaves me as I navigate this new experience. The horses are walking slowly, never too fast for me, though any sudden movement from Abbott causes me to tense.
“What gave me away?” I ask, glancing at him. I can’t bear to take in the sights right now, my gaze moving quickly from Essos back to the beast below me.
“How at ease you are with them.”
I consider the ridiculousness of this moment, and I laugh. Who would have thought in a million years that I would be riding a horse on the beach in a ballgown? That’s a perfume commercial, not my life.
“Is there anything you always wished you had done while still alive?”
I snort, readjusting myself on Abbott while I ponder his question.
When I move, I accidentally give her a kick in the side, and she takes off at a gallop. Everything that Essos told me about how to stop the horse goes out of my mind. I am straight-backed for only a moment, my hair coming loose from my braid as the wind whips my face, burning my eyes. Abbott, it would appear, was not happy with the slow walk and is welcoming the opportunity to show me what she’s made of.
I lean down close to her neck and try to grab the reins, which were ripped out of Essos’s hands. They flap uselessly in front of her, and I pray she doesn’t step through them and flip tail over head. I think I’m supposed to lean my weight back and keep a steady hold of her mount or something to slow her down, but the idea of moving that much doesn’t seem wise, so I close my eyes, grasp tight to her mane, and try to keep my tears in check. I know that animals respond to emotions, but I can’t get rid of the heart-racing panic as I pray that she doesn’t throw me off. I sawGone with the Wind; I know what happens when you get thrown off your horse.
As we fly down the beach and I fail to fall to my death, something loosens inside me. My fear begins to mingle with excitement at the speed and the power of Abbott’s body between my legs. A frisson of exhilaration has my hair standing on end, and I want to lean back and relish the feel of the wind blowing through my hair. Maybe when I’m a more experienced rider, I’ll toss my head and laugh as the wind rips through my tresses, but not today and not now. I risk a quick glance over my shoulder and see that Essos and Costello are bounding toward us at a decent speed to catch up. Abbott surges forward, interpreting Costello’s chase as a challenge.
I feel Essos grab my wrist before he catches the reins as they flap upward by Abbott’s mouth. He tugs back on them and says, “Whoa.” Thankfully, Abbott responds to the command, slowing to a stop. Shaking, I sit up, my hair wild and windblown with more out of my braid than in it. The flower is long gone.
Essos looks at me, concerned, studying my face. His brows rise when I grin at him.
“That. Was. Exhilarating!” I say between deep breaths. Essos laughs, his head tipping back, like this is the only way the full sound can escape him. My belly flips. There is a slight tremor in his hand as he takes mine and gives it a gentle squeeze. The reassurance in it might be more for him than for me.
“So, you haven’t sworn off horses?” he asks.
I smile at him, petting Abbott with my free hand. “Not at all.” I pause, considering my next words carefully. “I like the sound of your laugh—you should laugh more often.”
I swear that he blushes at my comment, though he looks away as if trying to hide it. When he looks at me again, his brow creases, a fresh look of concern on his face.
“Daphne, are you all right?” I don’t understand why he’s asking, until my head starts to ache like a vise has settled around it, squeezing and squeezing. I’m surprised to feel something wet on my top lip, because it’s not raining, and I’m not crying. I reach up to touch it and pull my hand away only to find it red with blood. My heart starts to beat an erratic tempo, and I don’t think it’s because of what just happened or my proximity to Essos.