Page 265 of A King's Oath

“And how would you know? I get many offers.”

“Horses and grooms don’t count.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks.

“Do princesses and business heiresses count?”

The matchstick he threw flared in no time.

“Excuse me?”

“Princess of Orissa was the latest,” he grinned. Her eyes darkened with fire and he kicked up his horse from 0 to 60 to escape her. It was an ex-polo pony and knew how to do that. Samarth laughed, hearing some yells from her mingle with thewind. He galloped down the pen and took the turn and his heart stopped.

Brahmi was on the edge of the pen, practising mallet swings. Down the far end of the field, a chestnut gelding — too young, too green to be out — had slipped its lead. It was galloping. Wild. Its eyes wide, froth lining its mouth. And it was heading straight for Brahmi.

“Brahmi!” He roared. She turned at the noise.

Her mallet froze mid-air.

“BRAHMI, move!” He roared, spurring his horse forward.

The world blurred into wind and dirt. His throat tightened. Every instinct screamed —get to her, get to her, get to her, move Brahmi!

He was too far.

His horse gathered speed, but it wouldn’t be enough. The gelding was nearly there.

And then —

A blur darted in from the sideline.

Sharan.

He sprinted, leapt and slammed into Brahmi, pushing her — hard — off the gelding’s path. She fell with a shriek.

And the chestnut struck.

A blur of hooves. A sickening crunch. Sharan thudded to the ground.

“SHARAN!”

The gelding was caught by a groom. Samarth jumped off his saddle before his horse had fully stopped and ran. He dropped tohis knees beside his brother. Brahmi was already there, crying, clawing at Sharan’s shirt. Ava came running, trying to move him gently, checking for bleeding.

Sharan’s face was twisted in pain — but he was grinning. Of course he was.

“Hey…” he panted, his voice light,“mini jockey, you didn’t… drop the mallet.”

Samarth’s hands went into physician mode. He checked Sharan’s spine, his ribs, his neck — no bleeding from the nose or ears. No visible signs of head trauma.

Then he reached the arm — left. The way it was bent was… wrong.

“Can you move this?” Samarth tapped his left bicep. Sharan didn’t realise what he was asking. Panic set in then.

“I didn’t see it…” Brahmi buried her face in Samarth’s side, her eyes on Sharan. He gathered her in with one arm, raising the other — “Appelez une ambulance!”

“En route!”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry…” Brahmi kept murmuring to Samarth.

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