The stable is setup fairly similar to the actual castle, boasting another wide yard of perfectly cared for grass with the barn made of stones. There are separate entrances to the left and right, each taking you to the respective stalls for either aughisky or horses. The center building has a great wooden doorway, inside serving as storage for grain and hay but also raw mutton and goat. Gradlon keeps his guests’ horses as well as his own very well cared for.
Falcon goes beside me through the left gate, his hooves clicking softly on the cobblestone floor. These stalls are made of stone with reinforced wooden doors that sport only bars to allow in light. The aughisky are not as friendly with each other as normal horses. Open windows would be asking for a fight or injury. Each stall is labeled by number and the name of the assigned water horse.
I remove his saddle and bridle inside his stall and brush him thoroughly before leaving. We are used to this routine but my heart always aches a bit when I have to be away. Nothing else makes me feel more like myself than Falcon.
The walk back to my guest suite is rather uneventful. It seems none of the other riders thought to bring their aughisky out this morning before the welcoming ceremony. There are two serving girls waiting for me in the chamber with fresh, more formal attire and they quickly set to getting a bath ready. After undressing I sink into the tub, letting the warm water soothe me while the girls wash my hair and body. After, I dress as simply as I can in a white tunic tucked into navy blue trousers with a black velvet vest and finally black leather sword belt. One of the girls sets to adjusting my shirt collar and tries to make some sense out of my wild auburn curls, the other polishes my riding boots before helping me lace them up.
Once they have finished preparing me, one girl offers me a looking glass. Little could be done about my hair, but I’ve grown to like it messy, the same way I like to keep the thin, scruffy beard I have managed to grow. After giving them my thanks, they both leave silently.
Bells announce the start of Gradlon’s welcoming ceremony, ringing loud as thunder through the castle. Everyone in attendance for the race makes their way down to the great hall. I’ve seen the room before but each year it never fails to amaze me. The high rounded ceilings with their golden engravings and colorful paintings are lit by dozens of crystal candle-lit chandeliers. Long oak tables line either side of the room absolutely stuffed with every sort of food or drink imaginable. The freshly polished floor shines and the walls boast open windows with views out over the cliffs to the wild ocean beyond. Then finally, sitting on his huge driftwood throne at the very end of the room, is the king himself. Beside him I can only assume is his daughter, a girl I’ve only heard of and not actually met.