Page 10 of Lady Knight and the Thief

Captain Cy was formidable in the saddle, but Torren doubted any of those who’d competed realized they’d been competing against a lady, one highly skilled with a blade as well as the lance.

“What business does a Lady of the court have with escorting a rogue like me into the Wylds?” Torren asked, glancing up and down her form briefly before returning his attention to the hallway before him.

“You heard the King,” she fired back in her lilting voice, soft yet commanding.

Torren grunted. “When do I get my sword back?”

“It’s with your pack, Sir,” the guard replied, making Torren nearly miss a step.

Yesterday, Torren had been practically dragged across the ground without even a care from the shorter, round-faced guard. Now, Torren was asir.

“Do I at least get food before your king sends us on a pointless recon mission?” Torren asked, sighing heavily.

“Ample provisions will be in your packs,” the guard said once more, glancing back over his shoulder as if Torren were wasting his time.

“Why is it pointless?” the Lady Cypress asked, though her tone was little else than a command.

“Because everything we will find, I could have told him in the throne room. But because your king has an inflated ego, we have to go look again,just to check.” Torren snarked, sneering at the woman.

There was a tightness around her mismatched eyes Torren could not define, but he didn’t have the opportunity to ask what it meant before the guard said, “Now, I’d be watching your words, son. I’ll not stand for that kind of talk.”

Torren scoffed. “If Caelith truly wanted me dead, I would have been dead with my mother– fuck, he would have outright killed me in the throne room.”

“The thief has a point, Oswald,” Cypress drawled fromjustbehind Torren.

“Indeed, Lady Cypress,” the guard replied, striding through the large doorway to the stable yard.

Immediately, a groom scampered to attention before Oswald, giving the guard a slight salute. “Sir. Lady Cypress’s mount is ready.”

“Excellent. Saddle the grey for our guest, will you?” Oswald replied. The groom dashed away in an instant, shouting orders for others to assist him.

From the opposite end of the stable, a large, beautiful sooty buckskin mare was walked by a groom. The leather tack was stained black, with a gorgeous purple-and-blue woven blanket underneath. Fine strips of leather were braided together for the bridle, and a dark forelock hung over the front.

It was a marvelous beast, and different from the oneCaptain Cyrode in the Jousts.Interesting.It seemed the crown wasveryinvested in maintaining this illusion.

The groom approached and handed the reins to Oswald with a slight bow of his head, leaving without a word.

“Ah, there’s my girl,” Cypress cooed, took a cube of sugar out of the small pouch at her waist, and held it in her palm as an offering to the horse. Her other hand rubbed the horse's exquisitely arched neck.

Everything about the horse would lead him to assume that its owner was high-ranking nobility. The horse was well fed and groomed, with long, elegantly muscled legs.

Even the tack suggested nobility. The bridle was an elegant thing, with fine, tooled detailing along the length of the reins, thesilver buckles and rings polished to a mirror-like shine. Torren couldn't help but notice the bridle did not have a bit.

At least the Prince’slackeywas kind to the animal.

Torren would have thought kindness had been beaten or trained out of her by now. The Old Ones knew Caelith was not adept at showing affection or cultivating kindness in his peers. If anything, Caelith was adept at sowing hatred and cruelty.

Another groom approached from the end of the breezeway. “Allow me to help you mount, Lady. Your guest’s horse will be ready in a moment,” he said, giving Cypress a slight bow. Then he laced his fingers together to act like a step stool in a slight crouch next to the large horse.

“Thank you,” the lady said and placed her boot in the groom’s hand, making Torren raise an eyebrow.

The so-calledLadyCypress was a curious thing. Far too polite to be close to the royals and endure their machinations. But, she hadn’t used Cade’s epithetPrinceeither. She had spoken much more brashly to the King than Torren thought one of her stature would be allowed.

Cypress settled atop the horse gracefully, accepting the reins from Oswald with another murmured ‘thanks’.

“So what pretty pony did they saddle for me?” Torren asked, arms crossed in front of him.

Cypress huffed a laugh. “Would youprefera pretty pony, Thief?”