Page 96 of The Lost Art of Finding Where You Belong

“I wasn’t talking about the horse,” Molun said dryly.

Perian stuck his tongue out, and Renny laughed, the sound bright and happy in the summer air.

“Come on,” she told them.

And they all set off. It was definitely not the most exciting of rides, but Perian patted Prince Horsey’s neck and told him he was doing such a great job, and sometimes it was nice to go slowly and admire the flowers, right?

“I’m not sure horses like flowers,” Renny observed.

“Do you speak horse?”

Slowly, she shook her head.

“Then you don’t know, do you? Maybe it’s their favorite thing, and they’re always wishing we would slow down and let them pay more attention!”

She laughed again. “You don’t speak horse, either. You don’t know that.”

“But you don’t know I’m wrong!” Perian pointed out irrefutably.

Several very pleasant minutes were lost in imagining all the ridiculous things horses could be talking about that humans would never realize.

Molun made a few suggestions as well, and Nisal laughed a lot, but the rest of the Warriors and Mage Warriors didn’t join in. Perian couldn’t tell if they didn’t think it was their place, if they were too busy scanning their surroundings, or if they just thought the conversation was stupid.

Perian thought if everyone was willing to be a little more silly, it would probably be a much more entertaining, happier world. But he was on this ride because Renny had asked him. They were here to protect their princess from any threat.

When they reached the point at which Perian usually gave Prince Horsey his head, the horse tried to turn them where they usually headed off to a run.

“Oh, no,” Perian said, pulling him back under control, petting his neck. “Not this time. I know you want to leave everyone else in the dust and show them what an amazing horse you are, but you can’t do that right now. I mean, you are always amazing, and I’m sure they all know it. You don’t get to demonstrate your ability to run long distances justat the moment.” Leaning closer, he said in a carrying whisper, “Come on. I’ve got them half-convinced about the flowers. Don’t blow it for me now.”

“Cheater!” Renny shouted, laughing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Perian said with mock innocence.

“I bet he doesn’t like flowers at all. I bet he’s talking aboutapples.”

Prince Horsey’s ears pricked forward at the mention of his favorite fruit, and he nickered.

“Actually,” Perian conceded, “it’s extremely likely he’s thinking about those all the time. I’m pretty sure he would eat them until he was as round as an apple if I let him.”

Renny scoffed. “If the stable hands didn’t stop you, I think you mean.”

Perian laughed and admitted, “Maybe more like that. But he works hard.” He patted Prince Horsey, ruffling his mane. “He deserves to have lots of treats, doesn’t he?”

Renny made another disparaging noise. “It’s a good thing you aren’t in charge of the stable.”

“It really is,” Perian agreed. “He would convince me it was always time for treats.”

They laughed again and then ambled along the flat green expanse, keeping to an entirely decorous walk that Perian was sure Prince Horsey thought was weird.

But while the horse occasionally shook his head, ruffling his mane, like he had too much energy and would love to expel it, he was actually very well behaved beneath Perian. Prince Horsey really was a good horse, and Perian wished he was able to convince him to let other people ride him. Not that Perian wasn’t loving being the one who did—and if he were being perfectly honest, flattered to have been chosen—but even if Perian was here for quite a while, he couldn’t ride Prince Horsey all the time. More people would be more options.

Perian wanted everyone to have options. He could keep going for rides with Renny, and he could keep hosting Kee on Prince Horsey’s back if they were all enjoying it. It wasn’t at all the same as the reality from before the attack six years ago, but it was more than they’d had recently.

Renny was laughing and animated, and she looked like she was having the time of her life, even if her mount was placid and steady.

“I don’t think I ever asked,” Perian said. “What’s your horse’s name?”

“Buttercup,” Renny answered.

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