The Prince's Guide to True Love's Kiss {Published Version}

Lesson 26

Lesson 26: If Two Ride on a Horse, One Must Ride Behind

The pass was wide in most places, filled with towering pines that even in late summer were covered in a fine dusting of snow. As the pass neared Stalvart, it became more treacherous and steep, but they wouldn't have to traverse those areas yet. King Sander and his warriors had traveled on horseback from Stalvart. And they readily gave the four spare packhorses to the Liberators so they would be able to keep up.

Benedikt had happily agreed when Grielle offered to share a horse with him. They passed much of the day in easy conversation. He had started talking purely for the sake of distracting himself from the fact that he had one arm wrapped around Grielle's strong waist to keep himself from falling; they rode bareback to make it easier to ride two to a horse. But Benedikt's discomfort did not last. After they stopped to rest the horses, Grielle settled right back into his chest and waited for him to slide his arm around her middle.

When the sun dipped behind the mountains, Benedikt had recounted most of his childhood stories to Grielle. The air was heavy with cold, thin mountain air, and Benedikt didn't mind sharing his warmth with her.

They trotted alongside Talitha and Yorick. Talitha seemed perfectly at ease on horseback, chattering away absentmindedly about magic and things the blushing Yorick didn't seem very focused on. His back was straight as a pin and he seemed to be straining to keep himself from bumping into Talitha with the movement of the horse.

Yorick gave them a wide-eyed, petrified look as he passed. Benedikt flicked his eyebrows up at him and motioned for Yorick to put his arm around the elf. Yorick placed a tentative hand on Talitha's waist and Grielle gave him a thumbs up.

"It's a girl, not a griffon," she whispered with a lopsided smirk.

Yorick blushed and looked quite relieved as Talitha pulled ahead of them.

Benedikt felt Grielle shake with a quiet laugh. "I can't tell if he's more scared of Talitha or just the horse. He has hated horses ever since we were little."

"Really?" Benedikt asked, dipping his head closer to Grielle's ear to more easily converse in the howling wind.

"Yeah, I had a horse in my younger years. It was a terrible, ornery thing that only let me near it. Well Yorick never listened to anyone, so he tried to feed her and got a good nip. I think he still has a scar on his arm." She laughed at the memory.

"And where did you grow up?" An innocent question, he hoped.

Grielle paused. "Dankert," she replied, her voice quiet. "In a little manor on the river in between fields of lavender."

Lavender. Benedikt smiled to himself. She always smelled of lavender. Even over the smell of horse, he could still smell it when the breeze caught her hair. "Sounds lovely," he remarked.

"It was just me and my father for the first years. My mother visited occasionally during those times, but I was too little to remember."

They passed through a thick grove of trees, forcing the horses to move in single file, putting them out of earshot of the others.

"She stopped coming around after a while and my father married a Dankert woman — Yorick's mother, Elvire. She was sweet enough, but his friends said he never truly got over my mother."

"What was her name?" Benedikt asked.

"I don't know. I asked, but my father forbid talk of her." Grielle let out a little sigh and let her head fall back to rest on Benedikt's chest.

Benedikt's pulse quickened as she moved in close. He tried to steady himself with a deep breath as he thought she could undoubtedly feel his heart pounding against his chest. If she did, she didn't mention it. She only turned her head to the side to give him a small smile. In the purple and blue hues of twilight, she looked like she might have wanted to be kissed, but the thought sent Benedikt into a panic. He adjusted the reins of the dappled horse and surreptitiously shifted Grielle so she sat back upright.

"So tell me," Benedikt began, effectively diffusing any sort of romantic moment. "How did you get tangled up with Henrik of all people?"

Grielle stiffened at the mention of his name, but then she softened. "That is a story for another time," she said playfully. "You will have to buy me a drink before you hear that one."

Benedikt laughed; he knew he'd been pushing his luck by bringing up any part of Grielle's past. "I'll make good on that," he said.

The path opened as they reached a wider valley, and Benedikt nodded to the others as Reyn and Ludvig pulled up to their left and Moose, on his own horse, to their right. Grielle sat up a little further on the horse as she noted their presence.

Lights twinkled along the base of a mountainside not a mile away.

"The village of Njord," Benedikt said and they all relaxed a bit in their seats.

"I'm ready to be rid of this beast," Moose growled. "I hate riding bareback."

"Aye," Ludvig replied. "I'm going to be sore tomorrow. It's never easy to get comfortable with two people on a horse. Sorry, darling," he added to Reyn.

"Watch it," Reyn cautioned from where she sat behind him.

Ludvig threw the others a playful smirk. He pushed a hand through his blonde locks and brushed the dusting of snow that fell from the trees onto Reyn.

"Hey!" She punched Ludvig in the muscle of his upper arm.

"Ow." He rubbed his arm. "Do you see the abuse I've had to put up with today?"

~

The village of Njord was a small, modest place. It was still early in the evening when they rode into town. The cluster of dark, wooden buildings seemed to huddle together against the mountain cold, their window fronts casting an inviting glow over the street. Their tiled roofs still held a dusting of snow that danced and swirled through the air when the wind blew.

At the end of the lane stood a large inn with all its windows alight. The glow beckoned weary travelers to its comforts with the smell of roasting mutton and the promise of a warm bath. The sign that hung above the door read, "The Brown Badger: Inn and Taproom." A makeshift sign tacked on the bottom added, "No magical creatures allowed. NO exceptions! Stables for rent, inquire within."

One of the king's men had ridden ahead to procure rooms and stables for the horses, so the Liberators handed off their horses to the Brown Badger's stable hands and headed into the inn, eager for a full meal.

They sat at a long wooden table, each with a bowl of steaming stew before them, tearing into large loaves of steaming bread. The inn was full of a wide assortment of guests. King Sander and his warriors occupied one corner and a troupe of rather intoxicated dwarves occupied another. Grielle eyed the others in the taproom. Most seemed harmless, including the grizzled mountain men that sat nearest to them, and her shoulders loosened a bit. The roaring fire in the hearth warmed her soul as much as the food, and her head felt heavier on her shoulders as her aching body yearned for a real bed.

"I could eat ten more helpings of this," Ludvig groaned as he scraped his bowl clean with a chunk of bread.

"And the mulled wine," Moose sighed. "It is beyond compare."

Grielle let out a lazy yawn. She'd already finished her own goblet of wine and her meal. "I'm ready to head off to bed," she said, stretching her arms over her head.

Reyn stood from her seat beside her. "I'm going to pop into some of the shops. I'll see if I can't get some properly fitting clothes for us," she said before pulling on her oversized, Stalvart cloak and heading out into the night.

"Goodnight," Grielle said as she started for the stairs to the inn's rooms.

"Goodnight," Benedikt blurted after her.

She gave him a smile over her shoulder and, to her pleasure, watched a flush spread over his cheeks. The others watched him curiously.

"Shall I order another round?" he asked.