Caelum didn't stop me when I reached for the reins.
He didn't even hesitate. He just lifted them and placed them into my hand himself.
Why?
Why so easily?
Why not laugh? Why not mock? Why not sneer at me like the rest? Why not at least warn me, tell me to step back, like some fragile doll about to break?
No… he simply gave them to me, calm as ever.
And that made me doubt him more.
Is he waiting for me to fail? To stumble, to fall, to be thrown into the mud so he can smile behind that polite mask? So he can join the others in their laughter once the horse rejects me?
His face was calm, too calm. His voice was smooth, too smooth. His manners are neat, polished like glass. No man is ever that perfect.
Behind such calm, there is always something else.
Something dark.
Something ugly.
Maybe that's what he is. A wolf wrapped in sheep's clothing. Gentle hands hiding claws, polite words hiding teeth.
Was Caelum truly the gentleman he looked to be? Or was he just another monster waiting for me to fall?
My mind was racing, running in circles around who he really was. Gentleman or monster? Wolf or sheep? My doubts wrapped tight around me, thick as fog.
I didn't even notice my fingers had curled hard around the reins.
And in my eyes—I wasn't looking at the horse anymore. I was staring straight back at him.
Caelum froze. His eyes widened, and then his cheeks flushed pink. His lips moved like he'd forgotten how to speak.
"Y-Your Highness…" he stammered, waving a hand lightly in front of me, as if to bring me back.
I blinked fast, heat rising in my own face. "Ah—it's nothing. I was only… thinking about this beautiful horse," I said quickly, forcing my voice steady, though it trembled at first.
His blush deepened, the pink spreading across his pale skin.
The reins felt warm in my hand, almost alive.
I walked forward, my steps slow and steady — and the Bloodrunner walked with me.
No snapping of its jaws, no violent pull of the reins, no wild hooves striking the ground. None of the fury it was known for.
Instead, it moved as if it had always known me. Step by step, quiet, steady, its body lowering ever so slightly, its head tilting closer, as though it were… listening.
Its crimson eyes locked on mine, unblinking, as if they were searching for something buried deep inside me.
"Don't look away, Princess," Caelum's voice came from behind, gentle but firm, filled with a concern that sounded genuine. "They don't follow fear. They follow strength."
So I didn't. I held its gaze. I let it see me, all of me, without flinching.
And in that moment, the whole stable seemed to fade away. There was no straw, no stalls, and no boy at my back. Just me and it, bound by something unseen.
Its hooves tapped the ground in rhythm with my steps, each sound echoing like a vow. It wasn't being forced. It wasn't trained. It moved because I moved.
A low breath escaped its nostrils. It was not wild. It was not angry. It was calm — steady and almost respectful. Like a bow.
"You see?" Caelum said softly, wonder slipping into his tone despite himself. "It's not testing you anymore. It's yielding. It's… yours."
For a heartbeat I forgot to breathe. This wasn't a horse being tamed. This was something else.
A bond being born.
Yes… you were waiting for me all along.
The Bloodrunner tossed its head as if in answer, its mane catching the light of the sun.
Its eyes burnt brighter for a brief second. Then its hoof struck the ground, sharp and sure — like sealing an unspoken vow.
A shiver ran through me. No words were spoken, yet I knew. It had heard me.
The Bloodrunner's eyes held mine, that wild fire not dimming but steadying.
I almost forgot Caelum was standing there until his voice came, low but firm.
"Do not only walk him, Princess. Ride him. A bond is not made on the ground — it's made in the saddle."
I turned to him, his face calm, but his hands clenched tight at his sides as if even he wasn't sure I could do it.
Ride him…?My heartbeatran faster for the moment just to think of riding it. One wrong move, and this could break me in half.
Yet my fingers tightened on the reins. "Very well," I said, breath slipping out slowly.
The Bloodrunner's ears flicked, and it lowered its head just enough, like an unspoken invitation.
I understood immediately — the Bloodrunner was giving me a chance.
I didn't waste it. I grabbed the reins, slipped my foot into the stirrup, and pushed myself up in one motion.
In a breath, I was on its back.
The leather was warm under my legs, the beast shifting beneath me, its muscles tight and strong like coiled steel. My fingers wrapped hard around the reins — maybe too hard, but I couldn't let go.
The Bloodrunner stamped the ground once, snorted sharply, and my body swayed with the motion. For a moment I thought I would fall, but I straightened myself quickly, spine stiff, my head high and straight. Looking forward.
I couldn't believe it—I was riding it.
The very same horse that had thrown every other rider was now carrying me as if I had always belonged on its back.
My hand brushed its mane, and I nearly laughed. It was soft, like silk in the wind, and smooth as water slipping through my fingers.
Then the Bloodrunner surged forward, and the world vanished into a blur.
A wild rush filled me, and I couldn't hold back the gasp that left my lips.
My silver hair streamed behind me, wild in the wind's pull, while my heart pounded higher, harder, faster.
The wind tearing past me, the world breaking open into light and speed.
My hand pressed against my chest, and I could feel it — my heartbeat, strong and fierce, as if it wanted to break free of my ribs and ride with me.
For the first time, I wasn't just alive — I was living. Truly, deeply, endlessly alive.
Ah—this feeling. I was alive. Truly alive.