The silver mare was galloping at full stride, its lean muscles flexing with natural grace, nostrils flaring. The three-tiered obstacle loomed closer. Closer. Closer. Leda dug her heels into the beast’s sides. She tensed her legs, bent forward. Relaxed her shoulders, eased her grip on the reins, and murmured in the horse’s ear. They leapt, mythicizing gravity as the silver’s body soared over the upright like it was but a nuisance. Leda’s smile nearly touched her ears as she closed her eyes, cherishing the wind through her hair and the smell of adrenaline surrounding them. Her stomach was in her ribcage, her heart about thrice its usual size.
On the descent, she leaned backward to move with the mare. They landed with a jarring thud. Urging them to a standstill, Leda laughed and ran a hand down the animal’s smooth neck.
“Good girl, Ezra.” She reached into her back pocket to pull out a treat. “There you go. You were amazing today, sweetheart. This is why you’re my favorite… But don’t tell Marcio.” She released the reins and laid down on Ezra’s back, sighing.
She’d only just closed her eyes when the mare made a disgusted sound, pawing at the grass. Leda frowned and pulled herself into a seated position to see what the horse was on about.
Mighiel.
Her brother was leaning against the camp’s fence with crossed arms and a condescending glare. She pulled a face, whispered, “Ezra, do you think we can trample him and call it an accident?” The mare whinnied and Leda rolled her eyes. “I know. I know. Murder is never the answer. Why do you always have to be right?” She got a huff in reply and gritted her teeth, leading the horse to meet him.
She remained mounted, quite enjoying the way she could look down on him. “Did you just come to glower at me or is there a point to your presence?”
His hair had been tied back, leaving his face open. The Hayvinger face: sharp features and dark eyes full of familiar hypocrisy. It was unnerving how much that gaze resembled her father’s.
When he spoke, his voice was laced with venom. “I didn’t miss your little stunt last night. Father may have been oblivious, but I’m not.”
She stiffened, staring at him in terror before raising her chin. “I can’t say that I know what you’re talking about.”
He leaned over the fence, yanking Ezra forward by the bridle. The horse neighed indignantly, and Leda gasped as she was jolted towards him. His face was right at her side, too close for comfort. She squirmed.
“Don’t be coy with me, little sister. Freedom? Freedom from what? From the privilege of running in the Election? From the chance to bring glory to the family name? You’ve always been an ungrateful brat. You are not worthy of being a Hayvinger.”
Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “I get it. You think it should have been you, and you’re probably right, but because of a bullshit tradition, it can’t be. I can’t not be our Representative. I am a Hayvinger, whether you like it or not, and the only thing that makes me unworthy to the rest of you is the fact that I don’t believe I’m better than the rest of the world because of my last name.”
His glare drove a dagger through her chest. “This family would have been so much better off if you’d never been born.”
The breath was knocked out of her. She hurried to wipe the tears from her face and jumped down to meet him face-to-face. She was so tired of keeping her mouth shut, of listening to pompous men rant about glory. When she finally spoke, she let her words shoot lightning.
“You know what I wanted freedom from? From everyone in this house thinking they have the right to control my life. From having to be something I am clearly not. From being looked down on and lectured to in the name of a family who doesn’t give a shit about its actual members. If you want to run to Father like the lap dog you are, go ahead. See, I may not have wanted it, but I am the Hayvinger Representative. That makes me the head of this household. There isn’t a guard or a servant on this estate who would obey your orders over mine. I’d advise you to remember that the next time you think about coming to me with idle threats, brother.”
Her chest was heaving, blood pounding in her ears. He was gaping and staring at her with wide eyes. A thrill ran through her as he spun to sulk all the way back to the manor. There was excitement in her veins, but also dread. What would happen when her father heard? Next to her, Ezra snorted. She could almost hear the “good riddance” in the horse’s scoff and burst out in laughter.
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