Celeste moved beneath me like water, muscles coiled, body responsive.
The afternoon sun beat down, harsh and unforgiving, but I welcomed the sting on my skin.
Pain reminded me I was still human.
"Easy," I murmured, lowering my body as we approached the jump.
Celeste soared cleanly, landing with a perfect stride.
Hooves kissed the earth.
My pulse steadied.
Again.
We circled back, momentum building.
One, two—
Then a voice, loud and careless, broke the silence.
"Not bad, Mrs. Lazaro."
I almost missed the takeoff.
Celeste caught my shift in balance and adjusted instinctively, saving what could've been a rough landing.
My jaw tightened.
Only one person had the audacity to interrupt like that.
I turned sharply toward the fence.
Calix leaned against one of the rails, dressed in clothes too clean for this place, white shirt, sunglasses, a grin that didn't belong anywhere near discipline.
He looked like trouble disguised as charm.
"What are you doing here?" I asked flatly, dismounting.
"Visiting my wife," he said easily. "Isn't that what husbands do?"
I removed my gloves, tossing them onto a bench. "Paper husbands don't count."
He laughed softly. "Cold as ever. You really have a gift."
I ignored him, leading Celeste toward the stables.
His footsteps followed, echoing lazily behind me.
I didn't need to turn to know he was smiling.
He always was.
"You know," he continued, "I thought I'd see you actually smile for once. You do this every day, right? Ride, sweat, look miserable, seems fun."
"I don't recall asking for your opinion."
"That's what makes it fun," he said, leaning on the stall door. "You never ask, but I give it anyway."
I shot him a look over my shoulder. "You're acting like a man with nothing better to do."
"Maybe I am," he replied. "But at least I'm not acting like a man."
I paused.
The words hung between us, brittle.
Then I turned fully to face him, eyes cold, voice sharp.
"Because you are not."
His smile faltered, just a flicker, before he masked it with a laugh. "Touché."
I turned back to Celeste, unbuckling her bridle with calm, deliberate hands.
The silence that followed wasn't peaceful; it was thick, charged.
He didn't leave, though.
Calix never left when he was supposed to.
He moved closer, voice softer now. "You really hate me, huh?"
"I don't waste energy on hate."
"Then what do you waste it on?"
I glanced at him. "Trying to keep my peace intact. You keep ruining that."
He chuckled again, stepping back with both hands raised. "Fine, fine. Message received, Your Highness. I'll stop disturbing your… horse rituals."
I gave no reaction.
He started walking toward the gate, still talking over his shoulder. "But one day, Aurora, you'll have to admit you actually enjoy the company, mine especially."
"I'd rather fall off my horse," I said dryly.
He laughed again, a real one this time, before disappearing past the fence line.
The sound lingered even after he was gone, annoyingly alive in a place built for silence.
Celeste snorted softly, brushing her nose against my shoulder.
I sighed and stroked her neck.
"Don't look at me like that," I muttered. "It's not my fault some people don't understand boundaries."
But as the quiet returned, something in me shifted, faint and unwelcome.
Calix Lazaro was chaos wrapped in easy charm, and I hated that part of me noticed.
So I mounted again, let the reins tighten, and drove us back into motion, faster, harder, until his voice, his laugh, and everything else disappeared beneath the rhythm of hooves and the sound of my own breathing.