edge_of_forever | Fact: girls love horses

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Fact: girls love horses

The first thing that hit one on entering the holodeck was the smell of fresh air, grass and trees - in short, spring. There was a light breeze in the air, though the sun was warm, and there was even the gentle sound of birdsong off in the distance. Off to the right was an inviting looking evergreen wood with spires of long, straight pines, the distinctive brown, needle-cushioned floor of a coniferous forest, and shafts of light filtering between the wide-spaced trees. Off to the left was a picturesque little stableblock, apparently standing all alone in the middle of nowhere, some horses milling around in the pasture surrounding it. Off in front were rolling hills as far as the eye could see.

Inside the stable, what Regina couldn't believe was the smell. Fresh forage, clean horses, oiled leather - it was all just as it should be, warm light filtering in through the slatted stable block windows, the sounds of the horses shuffling and nickering to one another in their stalls.

She understood illusion - all too well. But the ability to fool the senses so completely on such a scale was simply remarkable - all the moreso that it was done not with magic, but with science.

"Computer, I'd like a palfrey mare, chestnut with a white blaze, a little over fifteen hands."

"There are six varieties of palfrey available: the single-foot, the stepping pace, the tolt, the rack, the-"

"Forget it," she interrupted. "Just give me a big black Thoroughbred."

And there she was standing in front of her, a living, breathing, and yet apparently non-existent horse. She was even a little antsy, snorting and picking her feet up in her eagerness to get going. Regina was no less eager.

"Computer: flat saddle, curb bit and bridle, please."

"There are four varieties of English saddle available: close contact, dressage-"

"All-purpose, computer, give me a break here."

Trying something a little different for this EP. Since it seems weird to me everyone coming upon a person at a given moment, particularly when it's a time like saddling up, I've also put two TLs in comments marking other points later in the same general timeframe and location, also open to everyone. Pick whichever setting you fancy; spread things about a bit - think of it as three EPs for the price of one!

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Edited 2013-04-02 12:29 (UTC)

Mycroft Holmes had always held a very strict time- and preferably location-schedule. He spent his life in four places; his London office, the Diogenes club, his London flat, and the Holmes countryside manor. Though his work had always prevented him from it, if it were up to him, he would not spend it anywhere else.

Here on the space ship all manner of schedule was shot. There were people everywhere and no one had the decency to keep a roster.

Mycroft, as always, despaired in silence and only rolled his eyes when he walked into the holodeck to find it had turned into a green and pleasant land.

“Please tell me I have not walked into an enactment of a Harlequin romance novel,” he deadpanned.

Only the birds seemed to hear him, of course, and they paid him no heed, but soon the figure on the horse was heading back across the fields toward the stable, Regina dismounting smoothly and approaching the new arrival. "Mr Holmes," she greeted him smoothly. "I'm sorry, have I been hogging the holodeck? I thought I'd managed to choose a reasonably quiet time, coming out so early..."

Mycroft waved away the comment. He did, in fact, mind, but he didn't pursue the matter. "It is a relatively inactive time for the holodeck. Compared to afternoons and evenings, at least. It's a... popular pastime, this thing."

"Well, we can be anywhere here, do anything," Regina reasoned. "It's a pretty attractive prospect." She patted her horse's neck as though to emphasise her point.

"Very tempting indeed. We should be thankful everyone seems to be quite a good sport about it," Mycroft remarked mildly. The horse moved and Mycroft took one step back.

Regina didn't miss the movement, the tiniest hint of a smirk flickering across her face. "You didn't grow up with horses, Mr Holmes? I had envisioned a country estate somewhere in your past... no polo in the summer and fox hunts in the winter?"

"There was an estate," Mycroft admitted. "And there were horses, but I was much and much younger then."

"I see, well, it's never too late to start if you'd like me to conjure you a nice well-behaved pony," she teased.

Mycroft thought about this for a moment. It truly had been years and he wasn't particularly fond of exercise of any kind. But he was here and there was very little to occupy his mind with. One might as well give it a try.

"A well-behaved horse will do," he assured her.

Regina raised her eyebrows - obviously Mycroft had succeeded in surprising her. "Really? You... you're going to come for a ride?"

“No one is as surprised as I am,” Mycroft assured her, though truthfully, Sherlock would likely be more surprised. “But I have been on this ship for over a year and I do find myself with an abundance of time and very little to occupy it with.” Moreover, he found himself with very little to occupy his mind with. His mental capacities were trained minimally at best. But he had never quite considered occupying the physical instead.

He wouldn’t call it ‘loosening up’ as Amy had suggested, but he thought it could do no harm – as long as he didn’t overdo it, of course.

“I hope this is something one doesn’t forget. It has been twenty years,” he remarked with some amusement.

"I'm sure it's like, what's the expression, riding a bicycle?" Regina barked a few quick instructions to the computer - for someone who had never appeared to be particularly tech-savvy she had picked up the basics of the holodeck quite quickly - and then there was a large but docile looking horse wearing a light English saddle before them. Regina began to lead her own horse back to the mounting block, presumably expecting Mycroft to do the same.

The expression might be correct, but Mycroft was currently considering a different expression; 'easier said than done'.

Twenty he was when he last mounted a horse. And somehow - though it evidentially hadn't been - it had seemed smaller at the time.

He sighed, wondered briefly why he was bothering and climbed on it. It had been over twenty years and he hadn't lived a very physically active life since. Riding a bike or not, any lunatic could see this was a bad idea, if not today then certainly tomorrow.

He managed to get on it, at least, if with some great effort (that luckily the woman didn't see as she had headed out already).

"Right. On." He commanded, and was pleased to find the horse complied.

Regina was taking it easy, it seemed; certainly she wasn't pulling particularly far ahead on her own mount, which looked to be built for speed - perhaps this was due to the fact she'd already had a ride before Mycroft had arrived.

Mycroft did manage to reach her, and did indeed remember how to ride (well, he could hardly forget the principle, his mind wouldn't let him). And though the exercise seemed overly strenuous at the moment, he knew he couldn't just sit back. That would be more painful in the end. "I should thank you for the horse. You've managed to conjure up quite a suitable one."

"You're very welcome," Regina replied as he drew level, glancing across at Mycroft with a polite smile. "So what were you hoping to use the deck for before you arrived and found my little programme running?"

"Something a little more sedentary," Mycroft confessed. "I thought I might try to turn this into my club back in London."

"Ah, well. Good luck with that. You'll have the blasted computer asking you for the exact specs of the upholstery on your club chairs," Regina said with a chuckle.

That would not be a problem, of course, but Mycroft kept that to himself. "You did rather well on the landscape here," he complimented.

"Oh, I just argued with the thing a while and managed to cobble together some pre-existing programmes. Then I convinced it to save them under a profile. It wasn't that hard, really - I've... had some experience adapting quickly to new types of technology."

"Yes, I did wonder about that," Mycroft replied idly, eyes on the horizon.

"You just take things one logical step at a time, and when a thing appears to defy logic, you dub it 'magic', and move on - after all, magic, too, has its cardinal rules." Regina shrugged lightly, though it was barely noticeable given the light rock of seat on the horse. "The trick is not to let anything phase you."

“In my world ‘magic’ is deceit. Illusions and feats of hand, elaborate party tricks,” Mycroft explained, ignoring his already tired legs. “There is no such thing as ‘real magic’ and all its rules are bound by ordinary physics. I take it your world is quite different from mine.”

"One of them, certainly," Regina said. "But there are always rules, even with magic."

“And here?” Mycroft asked conversationally.

"It always comes at a price."

"Does It?" Mycroft wondered. "The price varies, I suppose."

"No doubt."

Regina seemed to think for a moment, then added, "I suppose you're familiar with the law of conservation of energy in physics? For hundreds of years in your world - I'm assuming here - there's been an understanding that you cannot create or destroy energy within an isolated system - you can only change it. Magic, of course, by its nature defies the laws of physics - if it didn't, it would be called science instead. But that law, on a certain level, still applies. You may use magic to create something from nothing in a physical sense, but in a metaphysical sense that act still takes its toll, must be balanced out. It still leaves a mark on the magician, or on their world - all magic comes at a price. This price is just a little more... poetic... than the laws of physics."

Mycroft accepted the truth of her universe (she wasn't lying, so there was no point), though he knew with absolute certainty that magic didn't exist in his. Not in the last place because he would know about it, if it had.

Instead he was warily aware that such 'metaphysical laws' apparently applied to this ship, in whatever small form. "Poetic?" he echoed. "A mental toll, rather than a physical?"

"Mental, physical, emotional... what I mean is that the cost of magic tends to run more into the realms of dramatic irony than anything so logical as cause and effect."

"How dreadfully annoying," Mycroft remarked, though even he was unsure if he meant the irony of magic, or the very real pain in his thighs.

"You have no idea," Regina said, shooting him a dry smile. "But you get used to it. You just need to develop a sense for the narrative."

"That does seem the way about it. Not unlike getting used to this place, I suppose," Mycroft replied.

"I suppose so. I've seen less pleasant prisons, though, as they go."

Though Regina knew, of course, that her new mount (who she'd christened 'Bitstream' and saved to her personal profile, or at least the computer promised her she had) didn't really need attended to after a hard ride, and could simply disappear handily from existence without the requirement for food or grooming or anything else. Nevertheless, she'd unsaddled her and set her loose to mooch around the fields a while before turning her attention to the stables.

Already beginning to ache all over and not quite believing what she she was about to say, Regina began unbolting the other stalls, one by one, setting their inhabitants loose to make their way out to pasture, and issued a new instruction to the computer.

"Computer, let's pretend this stable hasn't been cleaned out today yet. Or maybe for a few days. Can you do that?"

The smell shifted a little, the slightest tang of manure and ammonia and damp hay added to the mix, bringing a grim smile to Regina's lips.

"Computer: wheelbarrow, pitchfork, shovel and broom, please."

"There are seven models of-"

"Oh dear God, computer, I do not care."

Apparently not about to push it this time, the computer complied, and Regina got to work.

---

The first thing that hit one on entering the holodeck was the smell of fresh air, grass and trees - in short, spring. There was a light breeze in the air, though the sun was warm, and there was even the gentle sound of birdsong off in the distance. Off to the right was an inviting looking evergreen wood with spires of long, straight pines, the distinctive brown, needle-cushioned floor of a coniferous forest, and shafts of light filtering between the wide-spaced trees. Off to the left was a picturesque little stableblock, apparently standing all alone in the middle of nowhere, some horses milling around in the pasture surrounding it. Off in front were rolling hills as far as the eye could see.

From inside the stableblock were emerging the sounds of a pretty thorough mucking-out.

Edited 2013-04-02 12:20 (UTC)

This hadn't been exactly what Pullo had been hoping for when he had hiked up to the holodeck, but the longer he stood taking it in the more he liked it. It was peaceful here, calm, the tall trees and birdsong reminding him of happier times in the countryside with Eirene. Curious as to who could've created such an idyllic place he headed for the only signs of human existence - the stable nestled between the woods and hills.

Regina had shed her light jacket almost immediately, and her thin teeshirt was already clinging to her back as she cleared out the stalls one by one. On emerging from one to dump her shovelfull, she found herself looking up at an imposing newcomer.

"Ah, Titus Pullo, late of the 13th," she greeted him with a congenial smile, feeling far more at ease with the world and everything in it at this moment.

"Your Highness," Pullo replied with a small bow of his head - it never hurt to stay on the good side of royalty. Though speaking of which... "What are you doing cleaning out the stables? Shouldn't you have imaginary people doing that for you?"

Regina smiled and shook her head. "I'm sure, but I enjoy the work. It... brings back happy memories."

"Happy memories rolling around in shit? Well... Guess I have a few of those myself," Pullo said, grinning. "Usually had more mud and blood in there too, mind." A slight flicker of something less pleasant cross Regina's face then, like the ghost of a memory passing behind her eyes, but then she was rearranging her face back into a smile.

"There's nothing better after a punishing ride than some punishing drudgery," she asserted, turning back to shovel some more muck out of the stall. "It's good for the soul."

Pullo wasn't sure about his soul, but he knew he slept better at night after a good day of hard labour. "Fair point," he allowed, and reached for the pitchfork leaning against one of the stall door.

The two worked in congenial silence for some time, though the job was considerably shortened by the presence of them both. Regina seemed to be attacking the task at hand with a gusto that Pullo hadn't seen her employ with anything in the past. His estimation of her rose as he watched her tackle the stinking piles of horseshit - he appreciated someone who wasn't afraid to get their hands dirty, even if this was a bit more pastoral than he would've predicted for her.

Eventually Pullo took a break, setting his pitchfork aside and wandering over to a bucket of water which seemed sparkling clean except for a few pieces of straw floating on top. Without any hesitation he plunged his whole head in, then shook himself off, splattering water all around him.

"Good grief, you're like a wet dog!" Regina said, springing up in surprise as she was caught by the spray. She seemed more amused than annoyed, however.

"Smell better though, I wager," the Roman said with a grin, leaning down to wash his hands off as well. "Nothing like a good honest sweat, smells good on everyone."

"'Til it gets stale, certainly," Regina qualified.

"Well sure, it does until it doesn't. Same as anything. Flowers are pretty 'til they're not, swords are sharp 'til they're not, wine is good 'til it's not... aw, what am I saying, wine's always good."

The queen actually laughed at this, reaching to run her hands through her hair, pulling off the band that was holding it back in a short ponytail and retying it. "Well, quite," she said. "Well, I'm obliged to you for the help, Pullo - though I did tell the computer to make it dirty in here in the first place, so I hope you enjoyed the exercise."

"Almost as much as what I was hoping to find up here," he agreed, shrugging and leaning back against the slatted wood stall.

"Oh, and what were you hoping to find?"

"A brothel."

"Ah." Regina smirked. "And instead you ended up with a rather different sort of roll in the hay. My apologies."

He shrugged, though there was no hiding the look of disappointment on his face, as if he had expected her to offer to make it up to him. "S'alright, your majesty. Happy enough to help, me."

"Oh, wow, horses, okay." Lauren stared up at the large black creature in the stable aisle, earning a suspicious eye-swivel from the horse. She should've been expecting it, really, but it was just so... big.

"Sorry, I wasn't sure if this was just a general simulation or what," she said to Regina then, pulling her gaze away from the animal and offering the other woman an apologetic smile. "But I had better go and leave you to it... oh, happy birthday, by the way."

"What? Oh... of course, thank you," Regina said. "You don't like horses?"

"They're, ah... large, and unpredictable," Lauren replied. "It's not that I don't like them, I'm just wary of anything that could break my leg as soon as look at me."

"Well, I'm sure the computer could create you a small and predictable horse, but it wouldn't be quite the same," Regina said with a chuckle, feeling the horse beside her dip her head to nudge her shoulder and reaching to scratch her forehead. "Did you never ride as a child, then?"

"I took lessons, but I stopped as soon as my parents would let me," Lauren admitted. "I take it you were more of a fan?"

"Hah, you could say that, yes. Well, there's never been a better time to try again - I'm sure this place has safety protocols or what-have-you."

Lauren paused, considering the horse that was now standing placidly by Regina's side. Surely a make-believe horse couldn't be that bad. "If you're sure I'm not interrupting. I could just as easily go back to the lab," she hedged.

"Not at all - after all, this was your idea, wasn't it? Skill-sharing? C'mon, we'll find you something a little less big and energetic," she said, patting her own mount on the neck before turning toward the stalls. "I'm sure we could spec something specific from the computer but we might have more fun with one of the random generations... Let's say hello, see who you like."

The idea of saying 'hello' to a horse (or stable full) wasn't exactly Lauren's idea of a good time, but Regina seemed a lot happier than Lauren had seen her in a while and she didn't want to turn down this overture of - well, if not friendship, at least good will. "Sure, why not? Lead the way."

The horse Lauren ended up with looked like something out of a Disney movie - petite and delicate, its coat a beautiful dappled gray. The doctor was mainly concerned with the fact that it seemed relatively docile and close to the ground, though she had to admit to a certain girlish thrill as Regina talked her through grooming and tacking it up. Regina had picked out a new horse for herself, too, unsaddling the black horse and leaving it in a stall, instead putting a rather bulkier saddle that matched Lauren's onto a shorter, stockier-looking bay.

"Right, I'm not a riding instructor so I'm not going to drill you," she said now as she led unbothered horse and nervous rider to the mounting block. "Besides, that would be boring for both of us. Okay, so d'you remember how to do this? Take the reins, here, good, and put your foot in the stirrup - don't worry, I've got her. Great, so, shift your weight and swing your leg over, one smooth movement - perfect, no problem."

Regina smiled encouragingly as Lauren slipped her other foot into its stirrup and settled into her seat. "We're just going to go on a nice light hack through the woods," she said, leading Lauren outside before heading back inside and emerging a few moments later on her own horse. "Computer: please don't throw in any random happenings that'll spook Lauren's horse?"

"The pine forest and spring algorithms feature approximately seventeen random system events that might cause the equine programme to behave erratically. These include-"

"Well then just... oh, never mind." Regina pulled level with Lauren, glancing over and rolling her eyes. "This thing hates me," she said. "At least the replicators don't give you lip."

Lauren gave her a tight smile, the 'seventeen random system events' still echoing in her head. "And you even said please," she commented, trying to keep her fingers on the reins from forming a deathgrip.

"Come on, then," the other woman said now, tipping her head toward the forest. "Let's go exploring."

The programme was incredibly detailed - Lauren saw species of birds she had no name for, numerous squirrels and other woodland creatures cavorting about the roots and branches of the towering trees, and flowers that she swore came straight out of a fairytale illustration. Her mount was as forgiving as she had hoped for, and she had even worked up enough nerve to suggest to Regina that they go a little faster, leading to a breathtaking canter through a sunlit break in the trees.

A 'random event' did occur on the way back, when a light rain began to fall, filling the air with the smell of pine resin and fresh, damp earth. Neither of them were particularly well-dressed for the occurrence, but Regina didn't seem to mind in the least, and Lauren figured that if the worst thing that was going to happen was a little rain, she could deal with it.

At last they emerged from the treeline onto the open fields, and Regina turned to Lauren with the warmest and most relaxed expression the blonde had ever seen on her face. "One last run?" she suggested. "To tempt fate before we head in?"

"I suppose it couldn't hurt," Lauren replied, smiling back at her. It was nice to see Regina so relaxed, and she thought for a moment about suggesting they make this a regular 'thing'. Well, let's see how this goes first...

"Okay, then, we're headed up that rise," Regina said, nodding to a gentle slope before them. "Just keep your weight low and let your instincts do the rest, okay? Great." Lauren had a feeling that if this was even half the information usually imparted by riding instructors then they were really ludicrously overpaid, but this seemed to be all Regina was going to give her, because with a "Follow my lead," they were off.

It wasn't so bad - the horses were moving quickly, eating up the ground with their long strides, but Lauren balanced herself well enough, her fingers knotted in her mount's mane to keep her hands from jerking on the reins. As they reached a full gallop and Lauren felt her horse's hooves leave the ground completely with each stride, she began to realise why it must become so addictive - it was terrifying, yes, but amazing, too, a spark of exhilaration igniting in her stomach. Regina was off to the side and a shade behind her, hair buffeted by the wind, moving as though, to coin the cliché, she and the horse were one contiguous entity, and Lauren wondered if she looked half so graceful. They were going so fast, now, and we aren't even wearing helmets, and it was as just as this through struck Lauren that her horse's hoof struck a rock, or a dip or it stumbled or something anyway, and she realised that her weight wasn't as 'low' as it needed to be as she felt herself flying through the air, right over her mount's head.

Several things happened at once in the split seconds that followed. Lauren heard the bland tones of the computer and a much more urgent cry from her companion, though in her panic she didn't parse a word either of them said. The horse itself flickered and disappeared completely. And then she felt the curious sensation of not one but two forces fighting against the usually inexorable pull of gravity trying to slam her into the ground - at once she felt both a strange pillowing sensation beneath her, as though the air had suddenly become thicker, heavier somehow, and a much less pleasant sensation at her core that pulled her almost violently backward, twisting her diaphragm painfully, winding her and jerking her slightly upward before, at last, she hit the ground face first with a surprisingly gentle impact, as though she'd merely tripped on a pebble and faceplanted into the grass under her own steam.

Only moments later, Regina was at her side, kneeling in the grass. "Lauren? Lauren, are you awake, can you hear me?"

At first all Lauren could do was cough, which at least reassured Regina she wasn't dead or unconscious. Eventually she pushed herself up on one elbow, sucking in one deep breath after another. "Yeah, I'm... I'm okay."

Regina seemed to relax immediately at this, presumably reassured that if the doctor said she was okay, she was probably okay. "What did I say about keeping your centre of gravity low?" she said then, though her relief was evident in her tone and expression.

"If I ever planned on getting up on a horse again I'd remember that," Lauren said, wincing as she rubbed a hand over her midsection. "Ow."

"Oh, now, don't say- what's wrong? You didn't fall hard, did you? The computer said it had initiated safety proto... what?"

This last utterance came in reaction to Lauren's own facial expression, which had turned to concern at the sight of a thin trail of blood trickling from Regina's nose - which she noticed herself a moment later as it dripped off her upper lip.

"Your nose is bleeding," Lauren said, frowning and pushing herself closer. "Did you hit your head? Here, let me see your eyes..."

"No, no, I'm fine," Regina said, retrieving a tissue from somewhere about her person to press it to her nose while Lauren ignored her assertions and checked her pupils anyway. "Really, I'm all right. It just... happens sometimes at the moment."

"Do you have any idea what the triggers are?"

"Mm," Regina muttered with a non-committal jerk of her chin. "Don't worry about it, it's just... overreaching, it's fine."

"Overreaching? Regina, if you're not well you really shouldn't be doing strenuous exercise like this..."

"No, not physical exercise, it's..." Regina made a face. "Really," she said. "It's all right."

Lauren didn't look convinced but didn't press the matter, merely making a face as she pushed herself to her knees. "Some safety protocols. I feel like I've been hit with a baseball bat."

The other woman flinched. "Sorry," she muttered.

"It's not your fault, I should've known better," Lauren said, shaking her head. "I think from now on I'll leave the riding to you."

"No, it is." The other woman's face slumped into an expression of resignation. "I... reacted. I tried to stop you falling. It was probably my magic that got you hurt, not the safety programme."

"Your magic?" Lauren blinked. "That was pretty strong. I thought most people's powers were lessened here."

"They are."

"Wow."

"And anyway, it was a reflex, and... well," Regina said, pulling the bloody tissue away from her nose and waving it in her hand. "As you see."

"Thank you. And I'm sorry if it... hurt you."

"Sounds like I'm the one who hurt you. Please don't let this put you off riding - or horses. That could have happened to anyone who wasn't pay ing attention and was running before they could walk," Regina added with a dry smirk.

"Mm. Well, maybe I'll stick to running on my own two feet for now."

"Count yourself lucky you're winded. If you weren't I'd be firing the programme back up and making you chase down your horse."

"That sounds... terrible," Lauren said with a good-natured grimace. "Thank goodness for diaphragm spasms."

"C'mon, let's get back. Oh... 'end programme'?"

Edited 2013-04-05 15:30 (UTC)

Charles wasn't sure what if any protocol existed for jumping into other people's fantasy worlds midstream, but most of the citizens of this little colony were far more savvy of technology than he, so he assumed they would know how to lock the door to the holodeck if they wanted privacy.

The day was absolutely gorgeous, and Charles was almost tempted to ignore the stable altogether and set off into the wood on foot. An argument with the computer was what brought him round in the end.

Ever the social creature.

"Hello," he called from the doorway. Didn't need to give anyone a fright, after all. The woman wasn't familiar, but the exasperated tone certainly was. "It's a terrible cheat, finding out that technology doesn't actually make our lives easier; the whole endeavour seems like a bills of goods from here. Charles Xavier. I'd shake your hand, but I'm a telepath, and I've learned it's frightfully rude to read someone's mind without warning them first."

Regina had moved her own hand to proffer it, and let it fall back by her side, now, lips pursing in a sort of amusement. "Regina Mills," she responded with a congenial tip of her head as she moved around to check the saddle that had just materialised on her horse, but she was distracted at that point by the horse herself, her palm smoothing across her glossy shoulder. "It feels so real," she murmured, letting her hand rest there. "I can feel her breathing." She turned back to glance at Charles with an almost embarrassed expression. "If this place can create... all this, from nothing - from lights and 'forcefields' and sensory trickery, this... magical science - if it can do this, how can we know that any of what we're experiencing here is real?"

She chuckled, then, shaking her head. "My apologies, Mr Xavier. You appear to have caught me in a philosophical moment - blame the horse."

"Charles, please."

He walked to the opposite side of the horse and ran his hand over its glossy neck. Nothing there, no mind at work, and yet here it stood. He found himself wishing for digital sugar cubes.

"It would give anyone pause. Or should, anyway." He turned a pleasant, open expression Regina's way.

"Are you just setting out or just back?"

"Just setting out," Regina said with a smile. "Do you ride?" she said after a hesitation, almost reluctantly.

"I don't fall off, but I've learned that's not exactly the same thing," he admitted with an expression of mock pain. This seemed like the sort of activity one might undertake to have a bit of solitude, so Charles wanted to give Miss Mills the freedom to opt out of company.

"I won't detain you two philosophers any longer, if you're eager to be off."

A flicker of relief showed on Regina's face, and Charles didn't need to read her mind to know that he'd made the right decision. "I'll... see you soon, no doubt - do feel free to add to the programme as long as you keep the stable there," she added with a slight smirk. "The woods look quite lovely if you're in the mood for a walk."

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Fact: girls love horses

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