|
"Of course, Lord." she said, taking his proffered arm lightly, feeling his toned muscles beneath his light shirt. Saeryn used his title without particularly realizing it, thoughts still on the race, her eyes still seeing the handsome ebony racer fall behind, her ears still ringing with the shouts of the crowd, her heart still racing as quickly as the horses had.
The dream shifted from her attention as she giddily walked beside Eodwine, a bounce in her step, as enthusiastic as she would have been had she won the race herself.
The breeze blew her hair lightly and she impatiently pushed a stray curl from her pink cheeks as her eyes scanned the crowd for Lčof or his horse.
"Eodwine, we should celebrate his victory later... perhaps a small party in his honor. What think you?"
|