Page 11 of Crown of the Dunes (The Ballan Desert #2)

“You might think I’m old, but I’m still sharp enough to notice everything that goes on in my own stables,” Kaius grumbled, the sparkle in his eye undercutting the grumpiness of his tone.

I sighed, resting a hand on the mare’s neck as she bumped her head into my flank, as if asking why we had stopped when I had gone to such trouble to get her out of her stall at an early hour.

“I just wanted to get out of the shadow of the palace,” I explained, an edge of pleading creeping into my voice .

Kaius tilted his head sympathetically. “The city is not as peaceful as it once was. I don’t want to be the one to explain to my wife how you were able to sneak out unsupervised if something were to happen.

” He raised his brows in a way that clearly indicated he knew exactly what it was like to be on the receiving end of the queen’s ire.

I grimaced, sure her icy stare would be unbearable when she was displeased.

“You could take Aderyn with you?” he offered. “I just don’t think you should go riding alone these days.”

I opened my mouth, but my voice stuck. A ride with Aderyn sounded nice—reminiscent of the days when we were training together, back when the threats to Kelvadan were present but somehow more abstract.

She was busy holding this city together now, and I couldn’t bring myself to take up even more of her time.

Before I could say as much though, a voice came from behind Kaius.

“She won’t be riding alone.”

Kaius turned, and I blinked at the silhouette his action revealed, the windswept hair and crooked smile familiar.

“Calix,” I breathed.

I hadn’t seen the prince from Viltov since our chance meeting in the hallway, and a small part of me was disappointed when I returned from my daily wanderings without spotting him.

His casual manner would have been a welcome change from the scrutiny of Kelvadan’s statesmen and bureaucrats.

Besides, I didn’t trust General Warrick from Doran, despite his claims that Hadeon had been operating outside his orders.

Prince Calix’s presence gave me some reassurance that he wouldn’t let Doran get the upper hand, as that would spell disaster for Viltov as well.

“Prince Calix,” Kaius greeted, running a hand over his salt and pepper beard. “I didn’t think you rode.”

“And I thought I told you not to call me prince.” Calix folded his arms. His tanned forearms were veiny where they emerged from the rolled-up sleeves of his billowy white shirt.

“But Keera here promised to teach me, and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to be so close to the famed horses of Kelvadan. ”

Kaius glanced over at me, one of his brows raised in question; my skin prickled at the thought he was asking me more than if Calix’s statement was true but couldn’t entirely make out what he was suggesting.

“I did say I would teach him, although I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be,” I admitted. I didn’t remember ever being taught to ride as a child, the feeling of being on horseback innate from my earliest memories. But I supposed it was something one learned like anything else.

Kaius hesitated.

“At least you won’t have to worry about Keera pushing too far or too fast with me slowing her down.” Calix smiled ruefully, revealing a chipped front tooth, and he hooked his thumbs in his belt—a worn leather strap instead of the customary sashes worn by most in the Ballan Desert.

“I suppose I’ll have to find you a horse,” Kaius grumbled before ambling toward the back of the stable. He shot me a crooked wink as he passed, and I tilted my head in curiosity but received no further explanation.

As the horse master disappeared around a corner into a stall, I took a few steps closer to Calix, meeting him in the open doorway. A light morning breeze rustled his hair as he leaned on the doorframe.

The barest hint of the night’s chill lingering on the air cooled my skin as I looked up at him. I hadn’t realized how tall he was before. Nearly as tall as Erix.

A dull pang shot through the tether at the base of my spine, but it went dead as quickly as it had come.

I dug my hand into my mare’s mane, forcing myself to focus on the silky hairs between my fingers and Calix’s face in front of me.

I ached to hold on to the bond—to try and sustain that connection and throw myself down it to Erix—but I resisted.

He was not here, and I had to focus on the city and the people in front of me if I was going to keep the feelings of loneliness and betrayal from shredding me apart.

“Thank you for volunteering to go with me,” I said to Calix.

“I’m sorry if it means I’m intruding on your solitude.” His tone was sincere. “But I figured you would prefer the chance to get out of the palace, even if you have to lug my sorry ass along. ”

His turn of phrase made me snort—certainly not the type of language I would have imagined from a prince.

It softened me to him. He was easier to talk to then most of the diplomats I encountered in the palace—with their stiff countenances, looking down their noses at the dirt perpetually crusted beneath my fingers and the sweat crusting my hair to my forehead.

“You are surprisingly insightful, although I can’t promise your backside won’t be sorry by the time we return if you’ve truly never ridden a horse,” I said.

“I’m not sure it’s insight as much as understanding.” Calix shrugged. “After years of constantly flitting around on a ship, being stationary for so long makes me restless. It was why I was dressed and wandering about before dawn. I much prefer the open sea to stone walls.”

Before I could reply that I wasn’t sure the dunes would offer the same charms as the ocean, the dull clop of hooves signaled Kaius’s return. Behind him plodded a sullen looking gelding, his coat the dull brown of laka , only interrupted by a white blaze.

“This fellow should do you nicely for your first time.” Kaius’s tone held laughter, as if he told a joke only he was privy to.

As the horse approached Calix, the prince held out his hand, looking more like he was trying to shake the mount’s hand than let him sniff. The gelding’s nostrils flared, but he otherwise didn’t acknowledge Calix’s greeting.

“And who do I have the pleasure of riding today?” Calix asked, seemingly unperturbed by the horse’s unenthusiastic greeting.

“Stump,” Kaius proclaimed proudly.

A huff of amusement caught in my throat. Most of Kaius’s horses had elegant names, speaking of their unique and admirable qualities—like Daiti’s name representing his swiftness, or Cail’s her patience.

However, Kaius also had a tendency to flout tradition.

“Why Stump?” Calix asked, seemingly also taken aback. He chanced patting the horse’s nose, finally getting the reaction of a disinterested huff.

“Because if you can sit on a stump, you can keep your seat on this fellow.” Kaius’s eyes twinkled with mirth, although his expression stayed serious .

At that, a full-fledged laugh tumbled out of my throat, startling me so thoroughly that I clapped a hand over my mouth in embarrassment.

Still, as both men smiled at my reaction, another snort escaped me, surprising me with how good it felt.

The momentary reprieve from the constant onslaught of doubt and uncertainty left me craving more.

It was my turn to smile. “Let’s ride.”

If I wasn’t sure that Kaius had a robust sense of humor before, I was now.

With a grimace, I nudged my mare with my knee.

She was much livelier out in the open plains, and I urged her to prance in circles around Calix and Stump.

As we came around their left side, Stump was forced to turn his grumpy plodding back toward the city walls.

Previously he had been listing this way and that, despite Calix’s urging.

The prince let out a heavy sigh, and the periphery of my gaze caught on the way his fists clenched and unclenched on his thighs.

“He’s never going to follow your instructions if you’re tense,” I commented, now letting Cail prance back and forth in front of him in energetic little zig zags as I looked over my shoulder.

“I don’t think he’ll listen to my instructions no matter what,” Calix grumbled in a tone clearly not meant for me, but my lips quirked up anyway.

“I’m not tense!” he shouted, clear enough for me to hear over the desert wind.

I leaned my weight back to slow my horse’s trot to a slow walk, matching the pace of Stump’s deliberate plodding, letting him and Calix pull up next to us.

“Your hands say otherwise.” I shot a pointed glance to the white knuckled fingers wrapped around his knees.

With a huff, he released their grip and shook his hands before staring at them accusingly, as if they had betrayed him. “It feels awkward. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my hands. ”

I glanced down at my own palms, facing up where they rested lightly on my thighs, fingers curled, but relaxed. I had never really given them much thought when I was on horseback, except for when I was running my fingers through Daiti’s silken mane or holding my saber.

At that, my fists did clench, imagining what it would be like to have a saber in hand again—Erix’s saber, which lay hidden underneath the bed in my room at the palace.

When it lay in plain sight, I found myself passing far too much time staring at it, imagining it still bathed in Lord Alasdar’s blood.

It served as a reminder of the threat still posed to this city, urging me to train—to be ready for an attack.

I hadn’t started training with the weight of a saber again since my injury, practicing my forms empty handed, so there was no point in leaving it out where it might taunt me, inviting me to dwell on why Erix, the Viper, had made no move to make peace and still threatened the Great City after everything we had endured.