The Prince's Bride ✔️

|Chapter 8|

The next two weeks are nothing but going over the inner workings of the castle during the day and in the evening I spend with the royal family, which to my delight, they are delightful.  The king, queen, and Stefan have made me feel right at home.  I finally get a chance to check out the royal stables.  Throwing on a pair of riding pants and a deep cut v-neck t-shirt before heading across the lush green lawn that stretches out to the stables.

The white barn is impressive not only in its size but in the grandeur in the inside of the barn.  A brick laid floor leads me into a beautiful wooden barn.  For a stable, the smell is wonderful, just the lush sweet smell of hay and oats.  Horse are resting comfortably in their stables, wonderfully spoiled by the stable master and the staff.

It's the finest stables I have ever come across, and it warms my heart to know that the royal family spoils their horses.  The way that they are treated one would think that pure breed racehorses abide in these stalls.   As I pass through I notice it isn't just the riding and carriage horses that are being pampered, but even the bigger workhorses.  The Clydesdales that pull the trash wagons are getting the same treatment as the queen's buckskin mare, if not better.

As much as I want to start pampering one of these magnificent steeds, I figure I better let myself be known to one of the humans in charge.  I walk around the barn until I come across the office of the stable master and knock gently on the door, where a blonde man with a hard, but handsome face sits.  He looks young, perhaps no more than eight years older than myself, but he seems to give off a much older air.  His icy blue eyes flicker from the computer he's staring at to me.  His harsh features soften in surprise to see me standing in his doorway.  

He quickly jumps up from his chair to give me a bow.  I can feel myself blush with embarrassment.  "Lady Graylynn, what can I help you with?"  I would be just as happy for the staff to call me Graylynn. I've never been one that enjoys reminding people of my rank.

"I'm so sorry, Stefan said that I could come to the barn," I inform him, "I was hoping I could help today. Maybe brush one or two of the horses down?  Walk one?"

"Of course."  Even though he agrees to it he seems a little frustrated, and his eyes flashback to his computer screen.

"I don't mean to interrupt you.  I can come back later," I offer, pointing over my shoulder and starting to turn away.  I might be Lady Graylynn, guest of the royal family, but I don't want people to feel pressured to jump at my every whim just because of that reason.

"No, my lady, don't worry.  I was just in the middle of an order, but I can finish up later."

"I really don't want to impose."  My eyes widen as I gesture for him not to stop.

"Nonsense, my lady, I am here to serve you." The stablemaster pushes away from his desk and flashes me a smile, that would melt most girls' hearts. "My name is Conan Brooks."

"Thank you, Mr. Brooks.  I just wanted to get acquainted with some of the horses here.  Gain their trust."

Conan nods, "I have a very docile mare that would appreciate some extra attention."

He leads me down the barn until we get to the stale of an old bay mare.  She is feasting on a bit of fresh hay as Conan opens the stall for me.

"What's her name?"  I ask, as I carefully approach her,  giving her the time to get used to my presence.

"Harlem Glory."  Conan reaches up and strokes the side of the mare's neck.

"Such a beautiful name for such a beautiful girl."  I smile at hers as I reach over and take a brush from the grooming kit. 

Run the brush over her satin fur, I take in the familiar smell and sounds of the stable. 

"I'll leave you to it, my lady," Conan softly smiles as he gently pats Harlem's neck.

"Thank you, Mr. Brooks."

With a nod, he leaves the stall.  The gentle neighing of horses is soothing and melodic.  I have no idea how long I spend brushing Harlem down, but we both are quite content when I finish.  Harlem shines like a silver coin, and she seems to realize it herself.  A new life has sprung up in her as she restlessly moves around her stall.

"Do you fancy a walk, my lady?" I ask, running my hand along her smooth neck.

With only a snort in reply.  I take that as a yes, and slip her bridle on.

Hooking up the lead to her.  I guide her out of the stables and into the fields.  Just off the barn is a small fenced-in grass area that seems perfect for this old mare to lazy enjoy a snack of fresh grass.  Leading her in, and locking the gate behind us, I unhook her and let her prance off.

I sit in the grass against a large oak tree in the pin and watch as Harlem feasts on the green buffet.   There's something majestic about watching a horse.  Even when it's not really doing anything.   They are the perfect animal.

"Lady Graylynn," I hear a familiar deep voice call out to me, pulling me from my lazy mediation.  Jerking up I look around for the man that I know belongs to the voice.  Leaning on the outside of the fence, I find Stefan holding a book in one hand, and his free one crossed over the other.

To my surprise, he's wearing a t-shirt and jeans, not something you'd ever expect to see a prince wearing.  The sight takes my breath away.  He's absolutely roguish and stunning.   Jumping to my feet, I quickly dust my bottom off, and give a quick curtsy, your majesty."

Frowning Stefan's eyes flow over me as I approach the fence, "I thought we agreed you'd call me Stefan."

I nod, and lean against the fence next to him, "We did.  We also agreed you'd drop the title and call me Graylynn."

A playboy smile spreads across his face, as he chuckles, "So we did, my apologizes, Graylynn."

I give him a sly smile, "Accepted... Stefan."  Unfortunately, his name doesn't roll off my tongue as smoothly as mine did on his.  It feels out of place to call the crown prince by his first name, but I suppose it's something that I'll have to get used to. 

Licking his lips, Stefan straightens his stance and clears his throat.  "This is your first time to the Crown's island, is it not?"

Nodding my head in agreement, "It is.  It's more beautiful than I could imagine."

A look of disappointment crosses Stefan's face, "So you've already toured the island then?"

"Oh, no.   Just what I saw from the doc to here is all, and of course the castle grounds."

"Well then," his charming smile quickly returns, sending my heart a flutter at the sight of its beauty.  "Would you permit me to be your tour guide?"

My heart skips a beat, realizing that he's asking me on a date.  Or, at least I think it's a date.  It seems like a foolish notion not to know whether or not your fiance is asking you out or not, but the complicated situation does confuse me.

"I would love that.  Do you mind if I put Harlem away first, and change?"  I can feel myself giddy with excitement, and I can hardly keep myself contained.

"Of course not.  I'll be waiting for you out front."