"Do you think Ben's lost his mind?" Odi asked the chestnut mare as they trotted slowly along the shaded path. "I mean, really. One minute he's writing me poetry, and the next he's threatening war like he's some brokenhearted villain in a cheap bard's tale."
The horse didn't respond, of course, just flicked her ears and continued her steady gait. Odi sighed and leaned forward slightly in the saddle, the reins loose in her hands.
"Don't look at me like that," she muttered. "I know he means well, or thinks he does. But how did it come to this? How did I become the girl with a king on one side and a war-bent childhood friend on the other? How did I become… this?"
The trees rustled overhead, casting dappled shadows on the dirt road. The wind was soft but cold, brushing against her cheeks like a warning. Odi pulled her cloak tighter.
