How To Fall From Grace [MxM]

Step 7: Fall on hard times (pt. 1)

Frey stared at his chestnut horse. Then he turned his gaze to stare at the name sign recently added to its stall.

Then he turned to Marius, opening his mouth to speak with a painfully strained voice.

"You... Let young Lady Hargreaves name the horse?"

Marius' amused expression would probably have been rather endearing had the circumstances been different.

"Well, she had a suggestion, and who am I to talk back to a lady, my Lord?"

"... But Lord Neigh Clopsson?" Frey asked through gritted teeth, still attempting to obliterate the sign with his gaze.

In the end, Marius couldn't hold back a laugh and Frey closed his eyes as if that'd help.

He supposed he had himself to blame. He'd told Marius to come up with a new name for the poor chestnut horse while Luna had still been around and that girl had odd thoughts to spare, but he'd had no choice. What kind of a name had 'Happenstance' been anyway? Certainly not one for a well-bred horse from the best stud farms in West Kerilia.

"The audacity of that girl," he finally muttered. "Not only did she ruin my clothes because she supposedly fucked up some homebrewed exorcism, but she also had the nerve to mock my name like this?"

"I'd see it more like she's honouring his owner with such a name."

Frey only glared back at him, and Marius cleared his throat.

"But, um... Yes. It really is a shame about your clothes. One would think she'd be more careful with something designed by Everleigh"

"Fortunately for—" Frey interrupted himself, quite reluctantly as he narrowed his eyes in confusion. "I... What? What did you say?"

"That young Lady Hargreaves should have been more careful with your clothes."

"Yes, but you... Mentioned Everleigh?"

"Well, yes." Marius cocked an eyebrow. "Felt important to bring up, given the value of his clothes."

Frey blinked, searching his mind for any indication that a stable boy would know the slightest bit about fashion, aside from his rude comments when he'd first began working there. Did Everleigh design work attire? Saddles? Pitchforks?

"What's more, it takes some effort to travel to Wyrmdon for custom-made clothes as often as you buy new ones," Marius continued. "So I'd say that adds on to the tragedy as well, because now I assume you need to get new ones?"

It was unbelievable. At last, someone showed the accurate amount of sympathy regarding the tragic fate of Frey's clothes, and it had to be a servant.

"Well, Everleigh is not the only designer out there worth my time, and my fa—"

Frey's words choked, and to his dismay his lungs decided it would be a good time to start dry-coughing. It turned out to be a painfully long process as his throat refused to obey him, but as soon as the coughs died down he hurried back to the conversation.

"Damien pays him to come here whenever I need it." He swallowed down another, persistent itch in his throat. "Though honestly, I'm not sure he'd have to. Everleigh loves trying out new designs on me, so I'm sure he'd make the trip regardless of payment."

Marius smiled at him.

"I'm sure he would."

Frey was mortified to catch himself smiling back, but quickly made it a confident, bragging smile as opposed to the soft, genuine kind his mind had gone for at first.

"Surely you're not bothering Lord Clausson again, Marius?" The stable master walked through the doors, accompanied by Lord Carrigan, who immediately spotted Frey.