I Didn't Want to Get Married

I didn’t want to get married, but I didn’t have a choice. I was at that age, and I was going to be marketed out to the right family. The best I could do was play my cards carefully. If I was sensible and subtle, I might get to have some say in the matter.

Today, we were visiting the Biersacks, of which I knew very little. Only that they were a government family, well respected. Their only son, Andrew, was the prospective male I was being presented to, and I had been informed he was famously handsome.

Great. ‘Famously handsome.’ Seriously, while I didn’t want to marry a pile of manure, who wanted to deal with someone renowned for their looks? What were the odds of Andrew having any personal substance, or even coming home at night, when he was apparently known throughout the land for his attractiveness?

During our trip, I managed to gather from a variety of staff that Andrew had already turned down a huge number of potential brides. So I gathered he was a pretentious asshole too. Even better.

After our arrival, I’d been stuffed in a too-tight dress and told to be polite to everyone by my mother before she scurried away. Apparently my parents were going to socialize with the Biersacks doing whatever it is that ‘adults’ do. I didn’t get the chance to mention that I was, technically, an adult, and shouldn’t I join them, if I was actually the bargaining chip being considered?

So I sat, stiffly, in the room I’d been allotted, contemplating my fate, until I heard a knock. A kind-looking older woman came in and asked me if I’d like anything. I decided to just go for the brass ring. “Is Andrew available to meet?” Her cheeks flushed. I quickly added. “In a public place, of course!” I hoped I hadn’t given the wrong impression!

I think she saw what I meant and sympathized with my situation. Apparently he had an interest in horses, and was working with them right then. She asked me if I’d like to watch until Andrew was through, and then we could ask his serving man if Andrew had any time free in his schedule? I thought that sounded amazing, I loved horses!

I followed the woman through many corridors, down some passageways, then outdoors. We walked through the neat yard to the large stables, where she instructed me to touch nothing.

We walked through one of the stables, and I saw the horses were all huge, not like mine at all! They had to be some 16 hands or more! I wanted to know what they were, with such colossal heads, but I was afraid to talk or ask questions. We came to an open area, and the woman motioned for me to stand behind a barrier with her.

It took a minute for me to realize what was happening, as I’d never seen it before. A stable hand was holding a mare in a wooden chute, who was winking her nethers at us like a little flirt. She grew restless and squirted a bit of urine. I decided she must be in heat, and we must be about to witness a breeding.

I was both excited and terrified. But before I could think more on it, a deep voice from around the corner clearly said, “Is Hecate secure?”

Hecate? The mother of witches? What-

“Aye, but antsy. Keep an eye on your man there.” The stable hand eyed the mare. Oh! Hecate was the big mare’s name. Of course. The stallion better be Satan himself, then. I suppressed a snicker.

What came around the corner then left me breathless. He was the most handsome, majestic, massive stallion I had ever seen! He had to be some 20 hands high! He had feathers like a draft, but he wasn’t thick, or dull and meaty looking. His coat was shiny, and his muscling was unreal! As soon as he saw Hecate, he started to try and rear away from, uh… I guess the guy was Andrew?

Notes

:o}