As we made our way to the stables, Belenus clung to my hand, our fingers laced. The joviality from our brief moment inside was gone.

"Belenus, I-" the soft comfort I was about to offer was cut off as General Sayer hurried back into the tent with Caoimhe on his heels, bickering about some tactic from a mission that morning. "How can I help you right now, at this moment?" I asked instead. 

"I know you only learned about our empathic touch today," he said, hurrying me in the opposite direction of the others. "But, it would help if we could just exchange emotions while we walk. I need to feel something besides the worry and pain we all share over Bella's capture." Belenus looked, at that moment, very much like the twenty-one years he was and not the ageless grace of his mother's race.

"I know it's very forward of me to ask, but when I can't share with others, I want to make rash decisions." His confession was blunt but quiet.

"I'd love to help you," I replied. Almost instantly, a hesitant stroke tickled the inside of my right temple. It caught me off guard because I'd expected a gentle breeze like Faolán. Again, I tried to relax my mind, and his emotions brushed into me like melting butter. We didn't speak, as we walked. It was odd to me how silent we were and yet how much was being said.

One thing was exceedingly clear underneath everything I felt from the man beside me. Belenus was missing half of himself. His anger, fear, desperation, and pain were as real and fiery in my core as if they were my own. Under that, under his determination, was what I could only describe as a constant gnawing at a place deep inside his mind or maybe his gut. It clawed and bit at something special, a place within his emotions that seemed reserved for something that didn't quite complete him but kept him from fully functioning with its absence. I did note that the longer we exchanged, the more I could feel which emotions of mine he most lingered on. 

I'd held an expectation for Belenus to focus on my sympathy and desire to comfort him. So it surprised me to feel that what he held onto the most was my curiosity, my wonder at the extraordinary events unfolding around me, and my nervousness that grew as we approached the area of camp where the horses resided.

I don't know how to describe what it's like to have such a free exchange of emotions with another person. There isn't anything in our world that comes close to the experience. It was mutually unsettling and satisfying. For the first time since he woke up on my parent's kitchen floor that we truly saw each other for who we were.

Though the events have passed, dear reader, I don't feel comfortable sharing all of what I saw in him. What I can assure you of is that I couldn't sense a single ounce of cruelty or malice in him.

When we finally reached the horses' quarters, Belenus approached Cadeyrn, and they were obviously communicating over what needed to be done. Cadeyrn's verdant eyes flicked to me, and he gave a soft snort and pawed the ground.

As an American, I never cared about the do's and don'ts of interacting with royalty beyond general manners and respect, but there was just something about the King of Horses' gaze and presence that made me feel like I was committing some awful affront if I disrespected his title.

"My Lord," I said with a soft smile. I approached him with the same reverence I had when we first met, and, like before, he eased my uncertainty with a gentle lip of my braid and a soft huff of air in my face. Then, he knocked my arm gently with his black muzzle, moving me toward the herd who were scattered in the meadow beyond him. 

"I don't know what to do," I whispered to the stallion and rested my left hand on his neck. "I can't speak to them. How will I know which one wants to be my friend? I can't even speak to you. How do I know if you even want to be my friend?" I squeaked when he gave a soft nip to my bicep as if to tell me I was being absolutely ridiculous.

Around us, some of horses lifted their heads. Others gave a nicker of greeting to their leader, but none approached us. Cadeyrn came to a stop in the center of the meadow and pushed at the middle of my back with his forehead.

I stumbled a few steps and looked back to see if he would make any indication of where I was to stand. He grazed about fifty feet away, so I stayed where I was.

It felt oddly like a dream of going to school in my underwear. I tried not to hold my breath or spin on the spot. I didn't know what to do with my arms, but crossing them didn't seem like a good idea.

When none of the horses approached me, inadequacy gnawed at my core. The birds sang in nearby trees, and foals whinnied while they followed their grazing mothers. The chilly wind blew around me again and rustled my cloak and the hair coming loose from my braids. 

It's because you aren't good enough to bond with one, the snide voice of my self-doubt snickered. You're literally as plain and average as possible. Who would want that when there are so many more exciting people in this world? The prickle of tears in my throat threatened to burst free until a bay mare and her chestnut foal moved aside. Across the grass beyond them came the most stunning mare I'd ever seen in my life. 

She was a smaller draft horse, almost like a Percheron crossed with a Friesian, with a stunning blue roan coat. It was as if someone had frozen slate to carve her. Her mane, tail, and the light feathering on her lower legs were dark as ravens, shining in the afternoon sun. As the wind rustled her forelock, a pure white star marked her brow. My breath caught when she came to a stop before me. As she turned her glorious head to focus one shining onyx eye on me, the tears broke free.

"Hello, I'm Grace," I choked out, and she took another step forward.

 To my utter relief, she dropped her heavy head to my shoulder and pulled me to her as if for a hug. My sobs earned me a soft snort as I hugged her neck.

"Thank you, my Lady. I'm honored," I sniffled and pulled back to look up at her. "I'm afraid I can't read thoughts, so if you want to communicate with me, we need to go see-" before I could finish she pushed past me toward Cadeyrn. The horse king had been joined by Belenus. I followed her, keeping my hand on her shoulder.

"I would love to say that this surprises me," Belenus said, in what sounded like a subdued laugh. He continued on before I could ask what was so funny. "This is Isolde, she is the favorite mare of Ardhal, Faolán's usual companion," he said. This time, his chuckles couldn't be missed.

I spun to look at the mare who stared at me and gave what I can only describe as a very self-satisfied flick of her tail. Cadeyrn blinked at me once, before knocking Belenus in the arm with a snort.I felt, at that instant, like I was in the middle of some joke that everyone knew but me. The only difference between this time and every other time in my life I'd felt that way was that the joke didn't feel malicious. That was the only reason I didn't blush as I followed my new friend, Isolde, up to the tack handlers to be shown how to equip her properly.

         "So, how did you two become friends?" I asked while we waited for the tack handlers to pick a saddle to Isolde's liking. "You and Cadeyrn, that is." I elbowed Belenus, who was carefully running a whetstone over his dagger.

         "A year before our parents died, we went up to the Northpass mountains for the annual Council of the Horse Lords," Belenus said. "One of the foals, a filly, wandered away from the herd and went missing. Of course, my parents sent out a search party to assist in finding her." It wasn't the story I imagined, but I had a feeling I knew what was coming next. The twins probably snuck out to help after being told no. That's usually how it went in most stories. 

         "My mother and father told Bella and I to stay in our rooms, while they went to help," he said and shook his head with a soft snort. "We gave the servants the slip and snuck out. it was already dark, but you know that isn't an issue for us. What became the issue was the thunderstorm that poured into the valley."  I nodded to indicate I was listening and looked over to see Isolde reject another saddle and blanket. I didn't blame her, because they looked more fit for a parade than a long trek on the trails. 

         "We ended up at the top of this ravine, and we saw tiny hoof prints." He paused in his work to squint at the blade. With a hum of satisfaction, he tucked it back into his boot and pulled out the other one. "The filly was at the bottom of the ravine, apparently unconscious and shivering from the cold rain," he said, squirting a bit of oil from a bottle in one of his pouches onto the blade. "I volunteered to climb down to check on her, and Bella ran back to find the searchers." Belenus went to work on the dagger. Amusement filled his voice as he continued the story. "A lightning strike startled me as I was climbing down. Luckily it was a steep slope and not a dead drop. Instead of plummeting to my most certain demise, and killing the poor filly with my own body weight, I ended up sliding rather painfully into the ravine." 

         "Hit a lot of trees did ya?" I asked with a laugh.

         "More than several," he snorted. "Anyway, I ended up at the bottom with two broken ankles and a fractured skull," Belenus looked over at Cadeyrn, who was playing what appeared to be tag with three foals in the pasture. "I had the energy to heal either myself or the filly, but not both. I knew I would get the best treatment available once we were found, but the filly wasn't responding to my touch. She was alive, but she was obviously suffering from heat loss and an injury." Belenus shrugged as if what he was saying wasn't that big of a deal. "So, I used my magic to raise her body temperature and maintain it," he said. "She started to respond once I got her warm, and she wasn't too badly injured, just hungry, thirsty, and tired. So, I gave her my water and kept her warm." He examined the blade before wiping it clean. "I sent her up first, and when they hauled me out, Cadeyrn was there with one of his mares."

"Oh, the filly was his daughter, wasn't she?" I asked. I should have seen it coming, but it made sense why the Horse King was so fond of the young prince. 

"His first daughter. He'd only sired colts his entire life before her," Belenus said and slipped the blade back into the sheath on his hip. "Her name is Astraea. When Cadeyrn learned what I'd done to keep her safe, even while injured, he agreed to bond with me as the greatest thanks he could offer."

"So is Astraea here?" I asked, looking around to see if there were any mares as stunning as King Cadeyrn.

"No," Belenus sighed, and the amusement at his story faded. My heart sank, and I prayed that she hadn't died or something. "She bonded with Bella when she came of age. She, well, refused to leave Bella's side when she was captured. Carwyn has her too."

"Fuck Carwyn," I spat. Now I understood why the King of the Horses had brought so many to the rebellion camp, and it boiled my blood. "So, the princess of the horses and the princess of Aranthem are both in the clutches of a madman with a god weapon." 

"Technically, Astraea isn't a princess. She'll lead the herd that lives at the capital when Bella is crowned, but only stallions can ascend to Cadeyrn's level," Belenus said.

"Lame rules," I mumbled under my breath. It wasn't up to me to judge equestrian politics though. The horses seemed content and to love their leader. 

"What was that?" Belenus asked.

"Nothing," I lied. "Just saying that Carwyn's a jerk."

"I don't know what that means, but I probably agree," Belenus said. Then he pointed to Isolde. "Looks like she's made a decision."  I followed his direction to see Isolde shifting her weight under a plainly designed but elegant-looking saddle. It looked like a hybrid of a western and English saddle with carved designs in the leather. She snorted in my direction, so I hurried to my feet and headed toward her. 

"Up you get, mi'lady," the tack handler said to me. I glanced at Isolde who gave a sharp bob of her head. Then, I let him help me mount into the saddle.