The courtyard is empty of all training when I descend a set of stone steps and approach the sunlight. I squint into the rising heat of day and raise a hand to shield my eyes, glancing at the blue sky onward and past the stone walls encasing us from danger and civilization. The farther north I came, the hotter it became.

Gudgeon Docks remains in autumn's clutches and through the ocean waters, has taken on chilled winds that resemble the dead of winter. The capital is entirely different. Gambesons remain unnecessary, yet Gustus provided me with two, both made of finer fabric than anything I'll ever long for from a distance in Gudgeon Village.

Already, I feel the heat's bite as I stroll across the courtyard and head towards the legion of ten horses standing in a perfectly straight line. Only one man tends to them, a cervielk like Setsuko. His deer legs bend awkwardly at the knee, but his hooves are covered in leather boots styled to work for such a beast. Some cervielks are more adapted to their kind than others; Setsuko appears more human than beast.

This man, on the other hand, has larger ears and a hunch in his back that can't be replaced by practicing posture. He tightens the straps on the saddle in the same way I tug at the collar of my fitting jerkin. Advice from Keaya, given when she appeared at my door late last night and ordered me to wear something other than a simple tunic. Riding with the Panjandrum Corps is risky business, and arrows break through shirts easily.

The high collar reaches my neck and leaves no room for the sun to glance against my shoulders or arms. White sleeves billow from underneath the confinement, swooping to my wrists in wide cusps. I feel like a fool in these clothes. Gustus provided me with too much, and too different a style than what I'm used to. The handwoven dresses and tattered trousers picked up at a market from someone in desperation to make quick coin are what I search for, not trousers that conform to my shape and hug so tight I can feel the fabric riding up my thighs.

When the man turns, I realize he is more beast than man. Unlike Setsuko, auburn fur dots his nose in a thin layer, shielding white spots from the sun's beam. His perfectly combed hair is the same shade and pushed to the side off his forehead where two antlers, short and fuzzed, jut out at wide angles.

He lifts a hand in acknowledgment, a wide smile stretching the sides of his face through lines and white teeth. A much warmer welcome compared to the thorough look over I received from Keaya the night before.

"You must be Marie," he introduces. Placing a hand against his chest, he bows slightly at the waist. Not to acknowledge a royal, but to introduce himself as a gentleman. Still, I can't shake the unsettling feeling that he sees me as someone of higher standard than himself. I grind my teeth, trying to bury my growing annoyance with royal customs. "I am Gav, third in command of the Panjandrum Corps."

He stands at the rump of a black stallion. As he leans his weight on one hip, shifting to rest an elbow against the horse's fine coat, a tail whips around and smacks him against his flat nose. That smile wipes away and is replaced by an annoyed frown. I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

"And that is my horse, sadly enough." Gav jerks his thumb. "He's the snottiest of the group, as you can see. The others, well, they're not so terrible. Come, I'll introduce you."

I glance down at the chest plate of his steel armor. I know the Rivian emblem to be a dragon's gaping maw, but the Panjandrum Corps' is a different wonder. The golden dragon has no features, no flashing claws or threatening teeth. The spread wings resemble flight and the twisting tail curls into a tight spiral below the beast's body. As if seen from the air, the dragon soars across the circular seal, rounded and protected by a golden ring. Its head turns to the side, scouring for food along the mountainside and reveals two crooked horns.

"This here is Keaya's horse," Gav says. He pats the neck of a dapple-grey mare that hardly acknowledges his existence. "Like Keaya herself, she doesn't care for other living creatures. Don't stick around too long and don't turn your back on her, she likes to tug on ears." He pushes against one of his wide ears and scrunches up his nose.

I'm surprised to hear a small laugh emerge from the back of my throat. Maybe it's Gav's immediately kind personality or the fact that I can imagine the sight of Keaya's mare tugging on his ear and forcing him to the ground.

"Most importantly, the leader of the herd is Cloak's mare. She's the roughest of them all and doesn't take no for an answer. Even Cloak has a hard time corralling her." He sticks his hand out to a blue roan mare and she sniffs once, shaking her head in dislike towards who provides her affection.

I run a finger down the thin white stripe down the center of her forehead, all the way to her muzzle. "She's beautiful," I compliment.

"Precisely why Cloak picked her. From the day she was born, he trained her to be the beast she is now. No one else is allowed onto her saddle, nor touch her."

"Oh, sorry." Swiping my hand away, I ball it into a fist at my side and Gav snorts.

"I'm only joking. But the saddle part is true. No one else receives permission to ride her, not even Keaya, who is Cloak's second in command. He's the first, of course." He sighs and studies the mare. "Our fearless leader, and also the crankiest of us all."

Cloak's mare shakes her head in disapproval and Gav grimaces against the onslaught of snot splattering his armor. We move a safe distance away, into the shade of a dense courtyard tree. "So if Cloak won't allow me onto his mare, who will be my company?" I ask.

Without a word, Gav points to the horse standing next to Cloak's. A buckskin stallion. A stretch smaller than the other horses, and the most bored-looking compared to Keaya's. His coat shines brighter, reminding me of late summer meadows fading underneath the sun's relentless heat. The servants neatly braided his black tail and mane, and the grass hay in front of him is untouched. No wonder he's the smallest of the bunch.

"That's Pip," Gav explains. "He's the smallest, the calmest, and the least greedy. Also, the least annoying. He's along for the ride and couldn't care less about who or what is steering him. Hell, an ogre could jump on his back and he wouldn't care."

I take a deep breath. That's a relief. The only time I ever rode on a horse's saddle was when the guards of Gudgeon Village were feeling generous and gave all the kids a ride during the thick of winter. They were bored, we were, too. Our only entertainment was riding the horses through frozen streets or throwing rocks at other rocks stacked into a tower to see who could knock down the most. Though entertaining, being on the back of a horse was exhilarating at that age. Castiel loved nothing more and said he wanted to be a guard when he came of age. Simply for the advantage of having a horse.

"Go on," Gav instructs. "We're leaving soon, and it's best to get acquainted now than at the last moment. Trust me, my stallion and I didn't get along for weeks. We both said some things; his threats were more hurtful than mine but we apologized over carrots and grain."

I let my laugh free, and Gav returns with one of his own. His handsome smile nearly takes my breath away, his pine green eyes twinkling with joy to match one of the widest and most obvious grins I've ever seen. I haven't met many beasts that are happy simply for the sake of being such. Otherwise, this world would be a much different place.

Pip is short, but he still stands taller than me. How am I supposed to get on the saddle? Hoisting myself up seems like a world away. When I was a child, the guards lifted me onto the saddle, but I'm on my own now. "How do I...get on him?" I mumble.

For my sake, Gav doesn't waste a beat. "Well, first, you're standing on the wrong side. Always saddle to the left flank of the horse. Don't ask me why; that's they taught me." He takes my arm and brings me around to the other side. "Now, grab onto the horn of the saddle and put your left boot in the stirrup." Mimicking the movement, he lifts his leg into the air.

Part of me is torn because I want to make fun of his skinny, awkward deer legs, but the rest of my conscience knows it wouldn't be the smartest thing to do. Every beast has insecurities, and if those are Gav's, I'd hate to get off on the wrong foot. Literally.

I do as he asks. My palm wraps around the saddle's horn and I lift my leg as high as it can go to place all my weight in the stirrup. Using the foot connected with the world, I hoist myself up, only to stop short with shaking arms. Cleaning fish every day does not provide me with physical strength, only skill with a filleting knife.

"I got you," Gav muffles from behind. A second later, a hand braces against my back and hoists me the rest of the way. I swing my leg around and Pip doesn't move a muscle until I'm nestled comfortably in the worn leather saddle on his back. He huffs an annoyed sigh, but it's the only expression he shows. At least I'm not Cloak, heavy and angry at all hours of the day. "And there you are, officially saddled onto a horse. Also, the first, considering everyone else is taking their time and leaving me to tend to their uncooperative beasts."

I hear a scoff behind me and turn. Standing underneath the shade of an awning, Cloak smirks at my obvious inability to climb onto the back of a horse without assistance. If only he knew the years of struggle I endured to get where I am today.

But he's not the worst of it. Standing at his side, her face turned towards the ground, is Keaya. And it's obvious she's laughing. She sticks a finger underneath her nose, rubbing away the mocking grin, and clears her throat. Embarrassment creeps up my neck and warms my ears, and I cannot use my braided hair to cover it.

Again, I'm filled with a certain dread that I'll never be as good as them. Never.

That dread pools in my gut as I watch them mount their horses with ease. All the while, Cloak maintains a smirk that I know hides the fundamentals of my failures. To worsen my inner demons, he nudges my knee with his own and says, "Don't worry, I'll only share your faults with those I care about the most."

He nudges his horse in the barrel and she goes into stride without a single step missed. Keaya moves next, followed by Gav and the rest of the Panjandrum Corps. I'm left looking after them, watching Cloak's horns bob above the crowd of swaying bodies. No, I won't ever be as good as they are. But I can't say I'm trying.