The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(35)

“And how is his condition?”

“He’s stable. Tough as old boots, my husband.” She chuckles a little. “Anyway, enough of that. How did you enjoy your birthday?”

“It was lovely, thank you.”

Sabina glances at my hand, and then back to me, a semblance of a knowing smile gracing her lips. “You’re not wearing Haydon’s ring.”

I, too, look at my hand. “Oh, I didn’t want to damage it while riding.” I scan my mind for the last time I saw it. In the bathroom. I took it off to shower this morning and forgot to put it back on.

“Understandable,” Sabina muses, “that you would forget to put it back on, since it doesn’t hold the sentiment that Haydon would hope.”

I flame red and glance away from her knowing eyes. “That’s not the case,” I murmur pitifully.

Sabina stops and turns me into her, taking me by the tops of my arms. There’s no escape, and strangely, I don’t want to. I am so fond of Haydon’s grandmother, hold her in high regard, and only a small reason for that is because she doesn’t push me toward her grandson like everyone else does. “Adeline, you know my thoughts on the King and my David’s persistence in trying to bring you and Haydon together. You can’t manufacture love.”

I sag a little, so relieved to hear her say that. “They won’t listen to me, Sabina. I adore Haydon, I do. We grew up together, but—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Adeline.” She laughs. “Lord, you’d eat my grandson alive.”

I laugh too, because she’s right. I can’t promise if my father and Haydon’s father ever succeeded in wrestling me down the aisle, I would not take out my bitterness and resentment on Haydon. He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves someone who will love him truly and deeply. That someone is not me. “How can I make them see?”

“You can’t.” Sabina starts walking again. “No one can challenge the Monarchy when it comes to their public image. The smokescreen is too thick to penetrate.” There is that hard edge to her features again, and I frown. I know she’s right, but why do I sense there is a personal tinge to that statement? “I’m speaking hypothetically, of course.”

“Of course,” I reply quietly, falling into thought, desperate to ask if there is something specific she is referring to. But one thing I know is that asking questions will get you nowhere with the royals and their close aides.

We enter the block, and I spot Spearmint in the second stable. “There he is.” His beauty wipes all questions from my mind. I slide the bolt across and coax him back as I enter. “God, you are so handsome.”

“His grandsire won countless races,” Sabina says, looking over her shoulder when someone approaches. “Doctor Goodridge,” she murmurs, her face noticeably dropping.

The old man nods, his face somewhat solemn. “Your Highness.”

I smile my hello. “You go,” I say to Sabina, not wanting to keep her. Doctor Goodridge obviously wants to talk about her husband, and I feel somewhat grateful that he’s on hand to care for Colin Sampson. The old doctor has served as the King’s private physician for decades, serving my grandfather before that. He’s way past retirement, but like most people who serve the Royals, he doesn’t seem to want to break free. I run a palm down Spearmint’s muscled neck. “I can see to Spearmint myself.”

“You sure you don’t want me to saddle him up?”

“No, I’ll do it. I should get to know him.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Sabina gives my arm a soft pat. “Go easy on him. He’s been out cantering already this morning.”

“We’ll do no more than an hour.”

“Okay. And then we need to discuss his routine. If you want to run him in the mornings, that’s fine. Just give me notice so I don’t send him out before you arrive. He’ll need a rest day, too.”

“That’s fine. I can ride Stan if Spearmint needs to rest.”

“Call if you need anything.” Sabina heads off with Dr. Goodridge, leaving me and Spearmint to get to know each other.

“So then, Spearmint. What is your guilty pleasure?” I pull my fingers though his silky mane, laughing when he snorts. I reach into my pocket and pull out a sugar lump. “You look like a sugar kind of guy to me.” Spearmint chomps down the cube, giving me a chance to inspect his teeth. They are about as perfect as a horse’s teeth could be. “Let’s get you saddled up, boy. Back in a moment.” I let myself out of the stable, but before I head for the tack room, I wander down to the far end of the block to see Stan, my pride and joy. “Stan,” I sing as I approach his stable, smiling when I hear his hooves clip-clop across the concrete floor. His grey speckled head pokes out, and, I swear, the big burly beast smiles. “Hey, boy.” I make a huge fuss of him to be sure he doesn’t feel left out, and I don’t just give him the one sugar lump. I indulge him with two. “I’ll be back later. We’ll go for a hack, what do you say?”

My friend nuzzles at my pocket in search of more treats, making me laugh. “You only want me for my sugar lumps.” I slip him one more and then head for the tack room, scanning the rows of bridle hooks and saddle pegs, spotting Spearmint’s name on the very end. I heave his giant saddle up and grab his tack, heading back to the stable. Every time I come here, Stan is always ready for me to jump on and trot off. I had forgotten how much I’ve missed saddling up.