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"Saeryn! Help me! Grab his other hand before our lord decides not to race himself!"
Saeryn did not answer. She stood rooted to the spot where Rowenna had left her, with a slight flush upon her cheeks and her lips half open. Across the quickly widening gap between her and Eodwine, their eyes met, and all her eyes said to his were, 'How could you?' She meant it in more than one way.
Rowenna did not need her help. That much was obvious. She had gotten all that she wanted and Saeryn highly doubted she really cared if Eodwine rode or not. Any doubts Saeryn had about her decision to race were suddenly and completely wiped from her brain. With a hardening resolve, she gathered her skirts in her hand and strode onwards.
She passed the merry Rowenna, chattering much too cheerfully with Eodwine, and walked directly to her saddle. She picked it up, hefted it deftly on her shoulder and reached for her blanket and bridle. In less than a minute, she swept out again, once more passing the two of them without a glance and walked towards the paddock.
All the horses came to greet her at the gate, eager for any treat she might offer. Saeryn ignored them all as she placed her saddle on the fence. She climbed over it, urged the horses away from her and walked to her own. He took the bit and bridle admirably and followed Saeryn to the gate.
Rowenna and Eodwine were there, presumably to choose which horse Eodwine would ride. Eodwine opened the gate for her and allowed her to come out while he made sure no other horses took the chance to follow. She thanked him quietly as she passed and took her horse over to the saddle.
She groomed him quickly and began saddling. By then, Eodwine had chosen his horse and brought him over and tied him near Saeryn. They worked without speaking for a moment, their backs to each other. Finally, Saeryn broke the silence.
“It was very chivalrous of you to allow Rowenna to ride your horse.” Perhaps there was just enough emphasis on the words ‘chivalrous’ and ‘your’ to cause Eodwine not to answer. Saeryn pressed her lips together. It was not only the fact that Eodwine gave Rowenna Flíthaf to ride that rankled. Her blood boiled at the memory of Rowenna rushing to Eodwine and hugging him, and then kissing him (however lightly) on the cheek. She had never taken such a liberty.
Then the heat lowered and she cleared her head. It was not really Eowdine’s fault. She should not be angry with him. She resolved to make up, and turned her head slightly towards him. “Will you race with me in the three-legged tie race?”
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