Run, Little Heir
' I liked it even more when Kael gave me a genuine look of respect when my stallion, Nero, reared up under the stable arch, spooked by a mountain hawk.
"Fine handling," Kael noted as I brought the heavy beast back to earth, my thighs gripping his flanks until he settled.
"Foolish creature," I muttered, patting Nero's neck as the hawk circled above. "You’ve seen a bird before. Let's move."
I pulled up alongside Kael’s mount—a massive, iron-grey warhorse that looked like it had been bred for a siege.
"That is a serious beast," I said, nodding at his stallion. "Northern stock?"
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