Lach's steps jolted with a spring the morning of the ceremony, his movements rhythmed by a made-up tune he hummed softly as he led horses inside stalls. A sandy blonde brow raised so high it touched the wooden ceiling. If someone had told Rid, he would witness with his own two eyes Lach-I-have-to-be-serious-all-the-time-because-of-my-family-duties singing and -Sun God forgive him- dancing, he would bet all his meager fortune on the Favor being back rather than this.

Rid stood, a long-forgotten saddle hanging at his hand as he observed Lach bobbing his head. He wondered if his eyes had started to fail him. After all, his father and grandfather had defective eyesight and lost it in their old age. Bless their hearts. But no, his eyes were perfectly intact thanks to his wonderful mother's genetics, to whom he owed his generous face that charmed so many ladies.

« Hey. » Lach looked up and found Rid's bemused eyes fixed on him.

Lach frowned. "What?"

"You are smiling." Rid drawled out.

Lach rolled his eyes, closing a stall, the metal clinking. "Is that bad thing? » He turned around, grabbing a pitchfork.

A snarky smirk stretched on Rid's lips that Lach knew too well. "I am just saying I never see you smile."

Lach sank the pitchfork into the hay. "I wasn't smiling." But Rid wouldn't let go. He was known for his perseverance in stretching people's patience until it generally snapped back on his face in a not-so-pleasant way.

He put the saddle down and crossed his arms and spread his legs slightly in a I won-t-stop-until-I-get-my-answers stance "I know that smile. Who is the girl?"

Lach shifted on his other foot, still accumulating hay on a corner. "There is no girl." It wasn't that he didn't trust Rid but he had just met the young lady and he wasn't even sure he would see her again. Still, his mind was filled penetrating dark eyes and melodious chuckles. She had awoken a part of him in his chest that had been cold for far too long with her warmth. Despite being suspicious of him she had slowly lowered down her barriers a bit, letting Lach see a glimpse of warmth that he hooked up to.

Rid's lips pursed. "Do you believe myself a fool?"

Lach looked at him straight in the eyes. "You took the words out of my mouth." Shock spread on Rid's face and Lach smirked playfully.

Rid's eyes narrowed as he snatched a fork. "Well, don't come crying to me when you will find yourself old and alone with your horses." He threw before planting his pitchfork in the dry plant. Lach barked a laugh so loud it rumbled his chest.

Rid ruminated to himself in a corner while Lach begged for his pardon, a laugh dancing on each of his sentences, making Rid send daggers at him with a glare. A truce had to be made between the two stablemen when the stablemaster called them to head for the gates, the Princess' guests arriving for the ceremony.

The iron gates were wide open, letting in carriages after carriages filled with Lords as haughty as the next one.

A brown stallion entered, and they all stood straight. "Prince Nichola of Perspera has arrived!" a soldier screamed as a lanky blond entered, with a disdainful stare that watched people from the clouds so high it was. Lach's jaw tightened, keeping his nose from scrunching. Many of these people thought that superiority was a birthright, for they were raised inside flowing golden wells. That was why they all acted like condescending pricks. It was inherent in their nature and heritage.

"Look at him," Rid murmured as another Lord passed the gates. His cheeks were filled like a squirrel, and his belly threatened to rip his elegant velvet jacket. "Must be nice to eat that much." The Lord dismounted his horse with difficulty, for his legs were as short as a chicken's. He stumbled, almost falling on his face before he recovered quickly, chin still held high. A trademark. The stablemen stifled a chuckle. The man's eyes fell on them, and Rid offered him to take his horse which agreed by a fleeting hand.

Lach inhaled deeply while waiting for the soldier to scream the next name. "Prince Ezri of Mias!" A man riding a black stallion passed the gates. His huge arms made it seem he wrestled for his own enjoyment. Still, the gold medals on his scarlet uniform showed avid successes on the battlefield. He descended his horse with a grace that imitated the one of a dancer so much it was effortlessly controlled and elegant. His face wasn't short of handsome. A solid jawline but sharp that could break a skull, a charming broad nose, and a deep set of hazel eyes perfectly harmonious with deep dark bronze skin. A prince who had certainly stolen more hearts than won medals. "Take good care of my horse," he said, eyes focused on removing his gloves. Lach bowed, and he grabbed the reins. He crossed paths with Rid on the way to the stables. The latter hit playfully on his shoulder as he went back to the gates. "On my way to a better life!" Lach rolled his eyes before carefully placing the horse inside an empty stall.

The back-and-forth between the gates and stables made Lach's hair stick to his forehead and his breath short. "Lord and Lady Harrington," the soldier announced next, and Lach's face dropped. The man descended a carriage, thin strings of silver hair hidden under a flamboyant hat that matched his jacket. Behind him, Lady Harrington followed with her stick figure clad inside a sour citrus gown with so many feathers she could pass for a bird and Lach regretted not learning archery.

The Lord's uncolored lips stretch into a smirk upon seeing Lach. "Well, well, well," he started. "Isn't that Larry's son?"

Lach's jaw tensed. He wanted nothing else than to tear away that smirk and sank that ridiculous hat deep inside his throat but the glinting silver armors of royal soldiers were a reminder to keep his rage inside. "Lord Harrington, Lady Harrington." He bowed slightly. The act surging his bile to his throat.

"The King hiring rascals is a surprise for me." A fire flickered through Lach's eyes. Lady Harrington gave him an up-and-down glare, her nose shrinking with disgust. "Your mother didn't come to work." She tilted her head. "I presume she must be ashamed of your behaviors." Lach kept a stiff upper lip, not giving her the reaction she wanted. Her voice turned sour. "But if you want to pay for the house in time. She should com-"

"Mother won't come again," Lach's head snapped up, and the woman's orbs grew big. He shifted his decisive eyes on the Lord. "I will pay what we owe you. »

They both sneered, making the soldiers and other guests throw glances their way. A haze of anger deposited on Lach as his knuckles turned white. "Good luck with that young man." Lord Harrington snatched the horse's reins from his chauffeur's hands. "But I must remind you must you not pay before Solstice. You all shall be begging on the streets like that filthy old beggar." The reins were shoved against Lach's chest, making him stumbled slightly. The stableman's strength to not take the reins and tighten them around the Lord's thick neck was worthy of a priest not falling into temptation. Promise me you won't get in trouble. The words of his mother resonated inside Lach's head. The reins fell on his side. The insufferable couple sneered all the way up the stairs of the castle.

Lach led the carriage to the stables with a rage swirling through his veins, his mind burning with every way he would make the Lord regret his words. He mumbled under his breath comebacks that would seal his mouth and put Lady Harrington into shock for the rest of her life. A neigh resonated. One of Lord Harrington's horses pointed his nose towards a pile-up of hay. Lach sighed. He grabbed some of the dry grass and pulled it under his mouth. The horse devoured Lach's palm until it licked clean. He caressed his mane. Despite most of their owners being condescending pricks, the animals were different. There were no mind games or social play among them, just raw honesty. When a horse didn't like you, you would know it. He would snatch some of your hair, bite you or paw the ground anxiously. Lach observed the animal chewed unceremoniously. "At least you are not a piece of shit like your master."

"I hope so. The poor beast just seemed lovely." Lach startled and turned around. His smile opened his whole face. It was her. Warmth spread inside him upon seeing her doe-eyes. She approached, the hood of her grey cloak covering her forehead slightly, letting tiny coils escaped he hadn't seen the first time. He wondered if there were as soft as they look. "Who is the troubling master?"

Lach sighed heavily. "they are not worth mentioning."

"Your seem to believe otherwise."

Lach grabbed some more hay in his palm to feed the next horse. "Those people...they treat other like dirt." He frowned deeply. "They think they are better than everyone else."

She tilted her head to the side. "Who are you talking about?"

"Nobles," Lach gave her a pointed look and she raised a brow. "It is as if the Sun God had bestowed upon them the right to trample others just because of their status." He found her gaze. "What God would let it that happen?"

She tilted her head. "Do you not believe in the Sun God?"

Lach's back tensed. "A God with all the power wouldn't let people starve on the streets." The beggar's gaunt face flashed through Lach's eyes. He grabbed a brush swiftly. "He wouldn't let a family without a father." He let out at last.

"You lost your father," she realized, her features softening as Lach's harden. He didn't want to talk about it and wasn't about to.

He extended a brush at her. "Care helping?"

She smiled but shook her head. "I can't stay. There's a lot to do for tonight."

"Then why are you here?" Lach asked with a small smile playing on his lips. Could this be that she came to see him?

She blinked. "I am here for her," she said, walking towards the white mare, and Lach couldn't help the disappointment sinking in his stomach as he followed her.

"For Aurora?" He asked. That was the first time, he was snubbed for a horse. Then again, she was just majestic. He looked at the beast tenderly, thinking of the air wiping his face if he was to ride her.

She beamed. "You remember her name." Lach shrugged. He remembered every horse's name, but he kept that to himself. "Seeing her always appeased my heart," she caressed her muzzle, a dark grey compared to its white as-snow skin.

Lach rubbed his nape. "One time, she tried to bite Rid, my friend." The girl's eyes widened. "Well, he kind of deserved it. Rid can be quite annoying when he wants to." There was no bite in his tone, only a lighhearted jab.

"She can be quite feisty," she affirmed with that melodious chuckle before she paused and revealed. « You know...This is the Princess' horse." Lach's eyebrows jolted as he took a second glance at the horse. "I am sure she will be thankful to you for caring for her horse."

A huff. "I am sure the Princess has other matters to do than thinking about a stableman." He must be as insignificant to her as a rat sneaking into a house.

"I will ensure she knows her mare is in great hands." The depth of the sincerity in her words made Lach almost believe her words.

"You seem to know how take care of horse," he stated as he observe the beast melting under her care. "Since when do you ride?"

"Since I was a young girl. But I don't anymore." A veil darkened her gaze.

"Why don't you anymore?"

"Duty," she answered with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.

That melancholy resurfaced again, and Lach wanted nothing more than to wipe it away from her. "I could ride with you," Lach offered without a second thought. And perhaps, he should have thought about it because he had no way of actually keeping that promise, for he was always so busy.

Her whole face opened in a beam. "Would you?"

"Well..." Lach leaned against a stall's door. It would be nonchalant and effortless if it weren't for him sliding and losing balance. He got back on his feet as the woman hid a chuckle behind her palm. But Lach cleared his throat before he went on, « After the Princess ceremony, I would be able to do so."

"That's very thoughtful of you." Her smiled falter. "But it won't be possible."

A frown settled on the stableman's features. "Why?"

"I must leave you." Again, that shiftiness in her gaze appeared as if she was afraid something would catch her.

He leaned away from the stall. This time, Lach wouldn't let go without knowing her name.

"I still don't know your name."

She looked away. "I am Lach." He offered as an opening.

« Lach..." His name lingered on her lips and Lach's find his eyes draw to their plumpness.

Her eyes softened. "Delighted to meet you." The hues of her voice were so warmth Lach found himself melting. "You will know my name by tonight."

A flower of hope bloomed inside Lach. "Will you come back?"

"Tonight, after the ceremony, when the moon will be bright and shining, I will be here."

Lach grinned. "I will wait for you."

She gave a last glance before leaving and Lach's burning anger from earlier combusted into another type of fire.