Page 3 of The Mirror and the Curse

Fidelio was honest. And human.

And late, as usual.

Twitchy and impatient, she switched her gaze from the stable’s bright doorway to its interior, toward the stall housing Fidelio’s mount, Ruggero—the very horse Eddi had ridden to victory, as a last-minute replacement jockey, at the Faraway Castle Cup last September. Since that race, Ruggero had become the Great Hope of the Vetrician stables. However, today Eddi hoped to beat him with her own horse.

Why couldn’t she focus on the race? One easy answer. She could see Raquel hovering near her horse’s stall at the far end of the stable, watching for Fidelio too, no doubt about it.

“Whoa, big guy!”

Hearing White thump and snort, Eddi peered into the stall. “Everything okay?”

Aitor assured her, “We’re good. He doesn’t like ribbons dangling near his eyes, is all.” The man scratched his balding head. “Whose bright idea was it to braid colored ribbons into the contestants’ manes this year? There’s no way anyone can see the colors from the ground.”

Eddi shrugged. “People probably get paid extra for inventing useless promotional ideas.” She sniffed a little laugh. “White’s mane is so thick, the ribbons will be lost.”

“No worries, Your Highness. We’ll make sure he looks good,” Natane promised. “You’ll be the best-looking pair in the sky, for sure,” the sturdy gray-haired woman added with pride in her tone. She and Aitor had worked in the Bilbao stables since before Eddi could remember.

Eddi smiled briefly. “Thanks.”

“All that hair must weigh him down.”

The crisp voice at her shoulder turned Eddi’s blood to ice, and her gaze snapped up to meet Raquel Cambout’s. “He doesn’t even notice,” she retorted. “Look at the muscle on him.”

“I’m looking. He’s bulky like a plow horse. I can’t believe you’re entering the poor beast in the Stakes.” Raquel gave Eddi’s flight suit a once-over and arched a brow. “You look like a ripe grape in that suit, especially from behind.”

With supreme effort, Eddi maintained a cool expression. Raquel looked stunning in her stable’s silvery blue that matched her eyes. The fitted flight suit emphasized her tall, willowy figure and long, long legs.

Eddi’s brain was still flailing for an equally cutting response when Raquel sauntered away, tossing back, “But take heart, little grape; the crushing you get today will make you whine. You’re the ideal mascot for the Sangiovese Stakes. Hope you and your plow horse can even make it to the finish line.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get there first,” Eddi blurted.

Having the last word wasn’t so hot when it was laughably lame.

One of her father’s orderlies entered the barn at a quick trot and stopped to snap a smart bow. “Your Highness.” He offered an envelope with her father’s seal.

Eddi accepted the note with proper dignity, read it, and decided an oral reply would suffice. She addressed the orderly: “Please extend my congratulations to King Koldo for second place in the maiden-filly race. A great boost for the royal stables, I know. You may tell him that White and I are ready for the Stakes.” With a little frown, she inquired, “Is he watching the races?”

“Mostly,” the man replied. “The Queen is busy with the young prince, but His Majesty enjoys the opportunity for social discourse.”

“Naturally.” Eddi tried not to roll her eyes. She could easily imagine her father caught up in conversation and forgetting to watch his daughter’s race.

Just as the messenger took his leave, Prince Fidelio ambled into the great barn. His face lit up when he caught sight of Eddi in the open doorway of White’s stall, and he drifted closer to give her a smile and a wave. “Hey, uh, good luck, little Eduardi. Be careful up there today. In the sky, I mean. This course is long and brutal.”

“Good luck to you!” Eddi replied, cringing inwardly at his horrid new pet name for her.Eduardi? Really?“May the best horse win.”

“Thanks.” His dark eyes lit up, and his smile displayed gleaming white teeth. Although he wasn’t a classically handsome young man with his narrow face and large Vetrician nose, that smile atoned for any number of flaws.

“Fidelio,” Raquel’s voice lilted from further along the barn’s aisle. “Hurry! I really need help with these stupid ribbons.”

The prince cupped one hand to his mouth and called, “Be right there.” Turning back to Eddi, he stepped into the stall and casually braced one forearm on the doorpost, his big feet crossed at the ankles, his Adam’s apple bobbing above his flight suit’s collar as he looked her up and down. “You look . . . really good,” he said with unaccustomed fervor.

Then his face went pink, his eyes went wide, and his forearm slid off the post. Unbalanced, he staggered to keep from face-planting in the bedding, his face burning scarlet. “I mean, that is, you look very professional. I, uh . . .” He backed into a bucket someone had left near the stall door.

“You look good in red,” Eddi said quickly, hoping to calm him down. “But then, you always do. I enjoyed wearing your stable’s colors last summer.”

“But the borrowed suit didn’t fit you like this one does,” he observed, his eyes drifting south. Then he blushed even harder. “Uh, I promised to help Raquel—better get moving. See you out there!”

“See you,” Eddi called after his retreating figure, wishing just once he would ignore Raquel’s summons. Still, she stood a bit taller in her grape suit. If Fidelio thought she looked good, she wasn’t about to correct him.

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