Page 5 of Griffin Food

It’s only when he brings forth a black behemoth with wild eyes, snorting like a dragon over a gold hoard, that I question my choice.

Think adventure. Think, I can do this.

“Excellent… Ah, how does one get on?”

Getting on proves to be the second obstacle. I am short and can barely reach the pommel. Raven dances about and flattens his ears back like he senses it’s an incompetent bookworm daring to mount him. High, guttural sounds exit his frothing mouth like the battle cry of a banshee.

“Put your boot into my hands, my lady,” Colin instructs as the two of us go in a circle chasing the dancing horse.

It plays out like a damn comedy—the stablehand trying to hold the horse steady and help me up. Somehow, I end up sprawled over the saddle with his shoulder wedged under my ass. He is puffing with the strain of trying to heave me up and control the horse at the same time.

“Almost there, my lady!” His hands are now on my ass, pushing. “Get yer leg over him. Atta girl!”

My cheeks are in flames by the time I manage to right myself. Colin is flushed and looking everywhere but me.

“Ah, sorry, my lady.” He makes a gesture in my general direction.

“No bother,” I squeak. Damn, this horse is a giant, and the ground is alarmingly far away.

He adjusts the stirrups for me and checks the girth while I question my enthusiasm for adventuring.

Then Raven performs a little skip that nearly unseats me from the saddle.

My smile is shaky. “I’m just going to…”

The words are cut off as I accidentally squeeze Raven’s belly with my heels, and he takes off.

I cling for my life as we charge out of the courtyard and past the gate, where the guards’ heads swivel to follow us. We shoot down the lane and into the sweeping meadows beyond, passing startled farming folk. I lose my scarf, ripped away in the rushing wind, and giggle.

It feels like I’m flying. Like I am already on my adventure.

Chapter Three

Rafe

“… a

nd then her royal high-handedness came out and demanded to ride Raven.”

I raise a brow at the young stablehand who is clearly traumatized by this experience and share a look with my fellow Queen’s Guard, Lark. He shrugs and rubs his chin, clearly as confused as I am.

We had just returned from a patrol and had barely dismounted when Colin came rushing out of the stable, telling us we needed to Git back on our horses an’ go.

“I’ve heard the Queen is an excellent horsewoman,” I say smoothly. She is also a tyrant who ordered a guardsman flogged last week for whistling when he crossed the courtyard. Whistling! Apparently, her bitchiness did not like the ‘common tune’… or any tune. We have all been cautioned not to speak, whistle, or show any signs of joy when she is in the vicinity. “Too much to hope she will fall off and break her neck.”

“Not that one,” Colin says, wringing his cap in his hands. “The other one.”

“Other one? You mean her sister, the maiden princess?” I don’t think I have even seen the other one… No, I did catch a glimpse of her once. A little mousy thing with wire-framed spectacles and a scarf completely covering her hair. I thought she was an ancient dowager until someone mentioned it was a maiden princess. “What the fuck? Can she even ride?”

Lark chuckles. I cut him a glare. He’s fifteen years my junior and has that annoying-as-fuck energy of youth. Every time I’m paired with him for a patrol, I lurch somewhere between wanting to thump him and chuckling at the wild tales of his sexual prowess that he’s bent on oversharing. Rutting lasses is pretty much the only thing he thinks about beyond his training. Still, he’s an excellent swordsman and more than competent in a sticky spot. For that, I can put up with his rambling tales.

“Saw her without her scarf on once,” Lark says. “She was bending over to pick up a book she had dropped.” He makes a cupping motion with his hands. “Fine ass, round and plump. The kind with dimples and soft skin that your fingers sink into when you—uff!”

I thump him on the shoulder to shut him the fuck up.

He has the decency to look abashed and adjusts his collar. “Sorry, got a bit carried away.”

My head swings back to Colin. “Where the fuck did she go?”