He laughed lightly although the sound lacked humor. “That is true.” His lips quirked upward in the corner as he glanced back to look at the sky, darkening around them. “I certainly thought I knew everything back then.” He was so full of fire and passion, quick to temper and rash. He had been wild in his youth, when she had known him best, regal (how else could the prince of two kingdoms be?) but dangerous. It had taken great effort to mature, to soften his edges, to conceal that darker part of his soul. He had done his best to become the kind of stallion worthy of Joelle, of the Gates, but even now, he was not certain what part had been truth, what part make believe. Looking at Hybris, he realized he did not know who he was.
“I would like to think that I would have grace on myself, but it is impossible to know.”
Recognizing the gravity of the conversation, the weight, he steered the conversation to happier notes, hoping to salvage the joy of their reunion. “I certainly know what Twinge would have thought. She was fearless, was she not?” He nosed her neck and laughed. He missed his mother, desperately at times, but the sting of her death had long gone. It was easier to think on her now with fondness, with nostalgia.
“Come, let’s walk.” He stepped forward, waiting for her to match his pace before he guided them toward the outskirts of the meadow where the crowd was thin and they could continue to talk unhindered. “So, Hybris, where shall you live now?” He wondered if she would hunt down the women of Nerine and find her spot amongst the warrior women ranks once more; if it would feel like home. “I live in a land not too far from here. In fact, just north of the meadow’s border. It is called Tephra.” It did not feel like home yet, but he was growing fond of its ragtag family, of the humidity in the air. “You are welcome to visit.”
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