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I swam towards consciousness to the sounds of the inn awakening: booted feet in the hallways, the distant clang of pans. I kept my eyes closed, reluctant to rise. The bed was soft, and a full day of travel had as much appeal as taking a bath in ice water. Besides, I was deliciously warm.

Warmer than I should have been. A male body was flush against my back, an arm wrapped around my waist. Moreover, a hard length pressed against my backside. How intriguing.

I nestled closer, rather enjoying the sensation. Aric made a soft sound, and his arm tightened around my waist—

Wait. Aric.

I was rubbing myself against Aric’s arousal.

Suddenly I was fully awake. My eyes flew open. I froze, not daring to move. Seas take me, this was even more awkward than turning him into a horse.

Maybe if I extricated myself before he woke up… Gingerly, I tried to peel Aric’s arm off my waist. Aric made a sound deep in his throat and tightened his grip. Drown the man, he was stronger than he looked. I would have to wrestle my way out, which would unavoidably wake him.

Even worse, I didn’t particularly want to. The sound he’d made, and his hardness, were horrifically arousing. I found myself wondering what it would be like to turn to him instead of pulling away. If he would look up at me with the same intensity he regarded an interesting text, or if he would close his eyes and arch his head back, utterly undone—

This was absolutely not helping. Especially since Aric himself would never have any such thoughts about me. He would be beyond mortified to wake up like this. Knowing him, he would somehow manage to blame me.

I would have to rouse him and hope he woke with no recollection. I eased away from him, trying to create space—not that it succeeded in fully separating certain parts of our bodies—then moistened my lips.

“Aric.”

He muttered an unintelligible protest and, to my dismay, adjusted his grip, drawing my backside firmly against him. His hardness twitched. Heat rushed between my legs. Virtues help me, if this kept up…

A horse whickered outside the window. Instinctively, I looked in that direction, though I could see nothing beyond the glass but the pale light of dawn. Horror flooded through me, drowning the warmth of arousal in ice water.

It was already dawn. And we were still inside.

“Aric!” I hissed. “We need to get up. It’s almost sunrise—”

Aric was wide awake in an instant. He bolted upright in a tangle of sheets, his eyes wide with panic.

Too late. At the same moment, sunlight bloomed in the window.

A blinding white flash. A sound like a hundred candles blowing out at once, followed by the ominous crack of breaking wood. I screamed as the bed suddenly dropped under me, rolling me towards the large white horse now occupying the majority of the mattress.

Aric scrambled to his feet, eyes wild and nostrils flaring. Sheets tangled around his legs, nearly sending him crashing to the floor. Beneath his hooves, the boards creaked threateningly. I scrambled away from him, feeling myself in imminent danger of being trampled.

“Blast!” I cursed. “Blast, blast, blast—”

-Why didn’t you wake me?- Aric demanded. The whites of his eyes were showing. - This could have easily been avoided—-

“ You could have woken me !” I snapped back. “And I did try to wake you, it’s not my fault you were—”

“Gentlefolk?” A rap sounded on the door. “I heard a scream. Is something amiss?”

Both Aric and I froze. We exchanged a mutual look of dismay.

-Answer her,- Aric urged. - Before she comes in.-

I lurched to my feet, nearly face-planting as the sheets wound around my shins.

“Everything’s fine!” Panicked, I barely remembered to respond in Gilden. “Just bedded the horse!”

A confused pause. “Pardon?”

Drown me. Every word of Gilden I knew had apparently chosen that moment to gaily flee my head. “Just… uh… The horse! I had a big night horse. I’m awake now! Nothing’s wrong!”

-I believe the word you want is “nightmare,”- Aric put in.

“I know that,” I hissed at him, then paused. “Wait—that’s not helpful at all. I can’t tell which language you’re speaking. Are you even speaking a language?”

“Sorry, milady?”

“Nothing!” I responded hastily. “Just talking to my husband .”

Aric’s admittedly majestic tail gave an irritated swish.

“Shall I bring up your breakfast, then, milady?”

I finally succeeded in untangling myself from the sheets. “No. No thank you. We’re all fine here, everything’s just fine! The very finest!”

I could practically feel Aric rolling his eyes. - Convincing.-

I propped my hands on my hips and glared at him. “You have a go at it, then.”

-You know perfectly well why I can’t.- He flicked an ear at the door. - Anyway, she’s leaving.-

I turned to look, although of course I couldn’t see the innkeeper through the solid wood. Footsteps were indeed moving away, retreating in the direction of the stairs. I let out a heavy sigh of relief and turned to assess the damage.

The floor seemed to be intact, despite the threatening groans the boards made every time Aric shifted his weight. The same couldn’t be said of the bed. The entire frame on the side he’d slept on was bent and splintered. Not quite snapped, but jacked down at an angle that pointed sharply towards the floor. The bed hadn’t been built to take the sudden addition of a stallion’s full weight.

I grabbed the frame and pulled, as if my efforts could undo the damage. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t budge.

“Seas,” I groaned. “I don’t think we have enough regals left to pay for this.” How was I going to explain the destruction to the innkeeper? For that matter, how was I going to explain the appearance of a horse in the bedroom?

-We’ll send a bill to the castle,- Aric said.

“What, and let the entire inn know who we are?”

He scuffed a hoof along the floor, making me wince as the boards creaked again. - They’ll be honored.-

“Of course they will.” I rolled my eyes. “I can think of no higher honor in an innkeeper’s life than having their king turn into a horse and break their bed.”

Aric stared at me, unblinking.

“That was sarcasm. Do you have that in Gildenheim? I don’t think they’ll be happy at all.”

-The castle will compensate them generously.-

“Assuming we can get a message to the castle.”

-I thought the ambassador was keeping in contact with you?-

“Yes, but I wasn’t foolish enough to tell him you’re traveling with me. Besides, I don’t know how to send him a return message without risking it being intercepted. I don’t have a convenient bird stashed up my sleeve.”

-You have room for daggers,- Aric muttered, swishing his tail.

I didn’t have the energy to retort. Suddenly, it was all too much. The accidental curse. The attempt on Aric’s life—on our lives. Now the broken bed. I sat on the edge of the mattress and rested my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands. How in the ocean’s hundred names was I going to fix this? Even without the added complication of a horse in the bedroom, we still had at least two full days of travel ahead of us just to reach the border and meet Tatiana, never mind returning in time for the coronation. And the longer we spent on the road, the worse mess I seemed to make of everything.

-Bianca?- Aric’s concern tugged at me. - Are you feeling ill again?-

I closed my eyes and took a moment to compose myself. In my exhaustion, I had almost lowered my defenses, allowed him to see the fragility of my despair. I couldn’t afford that sort of vulnerability. Aric already knew too much of my weakness.

I stood up, forcing an expression of confidence. “Just planning what to do next.” I looked between him and the door. “Horses can go down stairs, right?”

A few minutes later, Aric was saddled, I’d buckled on my rapier, and the majority of our coin purse’s contents were glinting beside the hearth—we would likely regret their lack down the road, but neither of us could leave in good conscience without paying for the damage. To my immense relief, Aric was able to squeeze through the doorway—though I had to take the saddle off him first, and then resaddle him in the hall. I carried the saddlebags myself, books and all, in an effort to mitigate the weight of a full-sized stallion.

Wood groaned at every step as Aric clopped down the hallway. I gritted my teeth and prayed the boards wouldn’t break.

Aric balked at the top of the staircase. - I can’t go down that. The stairs won’t hold me.-

“They will,” I whispered, with a surety I didn’t feel. “Just… don’t think about it too hard. Pretend you’re very small.”

Aric gave me a scathing look. - And how, precisely, is pretending to be small going to negate the force of my weight against the boards?-

Before I could retort, a gasp came from below us. One of the inn’s staff stood at the bottom of the stairs, a pile of linens about to fall from his arms as he stared open-mouthed at Aric.

I trained my firmest smile on him. “Stand aside, please. We’ll be out of the way momentarily.”

The man blinked and, shocked into compliance, took a generous step backwards. I prodded Aric’s rump, making him snort and flick his tail at me.

“Go,” I hissed. “Before he tells the entire village to come and watch.”

Aric gave me a final disgruntled look and started down the stairs, testing each one before he put his full weight on it. The boards groaned, a cacophony of squeals reminiscent of a dying herd of pigs. I gritted my teeth so hard my molars threatened to fuse, keeping a smile plastered to my face for the sake of our growing audience. If the boards broke—if Aric fell, and I was stuck with an enchanted horse with a broken leg to boot—

The stairs held. Aric reached the ground floor.

I looked up, releasing a long-held breath. Our audience had multiplied. Now a dozen or so staff and guests stood clustered in doorways, all staring at us with looks ranging from disbelieving to appalled.

I lifted my chin and donned my best expression of courtly hauteur.

“Only the best lodgings for my prize stallion,” I declared loftily. “Come, my pet.”

I paraded serenely out of the room, head held high and Aric snorting emphatically at my heels.

-My pet?- Aric demanded. - My pet ?-

Hours down the road, and still he was caught on that single syllable, like a shirt snagged on a nail. Despite our late start, we were making good progress—as far as I could tell. If the rain continued to hold off, we might reach the inn where I’d arranged to meet Tatiana by noon tomorrow.

I rolled my eyes. “I couldn’t very well refer to you as my husband, could I?”

-But pet ? The entire Gilden language, and that was the word you chose?-

I resisted the urge to kick him in the ribs. “Elucidate me, husband. Which term of endearment should one use in Gildenheim when referring to a spouse who is currently a horse? My poppet? My stud? My—”

-I will buck you from the saddle.-

I settled my toes more firmly into the stirrups. Just in case. “All right, then. What term of endearment do you prefer?”

A pause. - I fail to see the need for any such terms.-

“We’re playing at courtship,” I said. “Indulge me.”

Aric’s tone turned dark and dry. - I haven’t found much use—or need—for pillow talk.-

I arched one brow—not that he could see. “Have your lovers agreed with that assessment?”

I could have kicked myself the moment the words left my lips. I already knew he had a lover, and it wasn’t a subject I was keen to hear more about. Marya—his relationship with Marya—was nothing to me. Aric was nothing to me—an ally, a husband, but only in name.

Still, that didn’t mean I wanted to learn the details of his affair with someone else. We were married, even if neither of us expected it to last.

-I think you may be putting too much weight on my previous experiences,- Aric said before I could retract my question. - I’ve had enough practice to… ah… know what I’m doing, but I wouldn’t qualify any of those encounters as romantic.-

I was flushing now. Thank the seas he couldn’t see my face—this was a dangerous turn in the conversation, and I’d been a fool to take it. “So they were not… repeated experiences? With the same individuals, that is?”

-No.- Aric weighed his answer for a moment, as if he expected me to judge him harshly. - I’m the heir to the Gilden throne. I’ve taken lovers here and there, but it’s better that they don’t last. If I don’t give anyone the opportunity to pretend they care for me long enough to make me believe them, it won’t hurt as much when I realize they were only acting for their own benefit. Keeping people at a distance is… less painful.-

“Wait,” I blurted. “I thought… What about Marya?”

Blast my impulsive tongue. So much for not wanting to know the details.

Aric snorted with surprise. -Marya? As if she’s ever looked twice at a man that way. And even if she had… we’re friends , Bianca. Childhood friends. She’s like the sister I never had. We practically grew up together—the queen thought I might take better to studying weaponry if I had someone to humiliate me by contrast, so she picked the best fencing student to pair me with.- His tone turned wry. - It wouldn’t have worked even if Marya had been the sort to humiliate another person. But it’s the one lesson the queen tried to teach me I’m most grateful for, because it brought us together.-

“Oh.” Well, this was unexpected. How had I ever thought Gildenheim cold? I was melting with embarrassed heat. “I thought… I… Oh, never mind.” I scrambled to return to the previous topic before I could say something even worse. “What about family endearments, then? Varin, perhaps?”

-We’ve never been close. He’s seven years older and we weren’t raised together, due to our different… statuses.- Aric hesitated. - We were dissuaded from spending time together as children, and neither of us has ever made much effort to bridge the distance. I know him more as a standard I repeatedly failed to meet than as a—a brother.-

Sympathy glimmered through me. It sounded like a lonely childhood, and I knew all too well how it felt to be viewed as little more than a disappointment. No wonder he and Marya were close. “And your mother?”

Aric’s tone hardened, a shield slipping into place. - I prefer not to talk about the queen.-

I bit my lip. I’d forgotten, with everything that happened, that he was still in mourning. Of course he didn’t want to talk about his mother—she was barely a full month gone.

It was a harsh reminder of what was at stake. I was wasting time with foolish questions, when I ought to be thinking about how we were going to break the curse and prevent a war. It wasn’t as if I would be married to Aric for much longer; this game of courtship didn’t matter. We would reach the border soon, and our truce would end.

-Is something wrong?- Aric asked.

I’d stiffened in the saddle. Or perhaps he’d picked up the vinegar flavor that had crept into my thoughts.

“I was just wondering how long we have until dusk.”

I twisted in the saddle to observe our surroundings, backing up my falsehood. I had no Adept-forged clock, and the thick clouds made it difficult to tell the sun’s location.

A flicker of movement caught my attention on the otherwise empty road. Behind us rode a trio of figures on horseback, distant enough that they were only dark silhouettes where the path met the sky.

My hand crept to my rapier.

“Aric,” I said, my mouth going dry as sand. “I think we’re being followed.”