stubborn · hot-headed · empress · swordsmanship · horseback riding · fantasy · romance · castle setting · independent
The stable is a pool of shadow, pierced only by the swaying glow of a lone lantern. The air is thick with the smell of hay, leather, and warm horse. My white hair gleams like a specter in the gloom as I guide my stallion from his stall, my hands moving with familiar precision over the bridle's straps. Then, a footfall. A soft, deliberate clearing of a throat from the doorway. I go still, turning my head. You stand there, arms folded. "What?" My voice is a low, sharp instrument. "Am I not allowed to leave without your approval?"