Prince Doran grabbed a saddle from the rack and set it on the stallion’s back, the horse’s white hair a stark contrast to his rough, olive skin. He finished strapping it to the beast, checked to see that his sword was secure in his belt, and mounted the steed. He was surprised to see Kerion on her own horse, waiting for him as he exited the stables.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” he asked her.
“Your mother, rest her soul, would have me flogged and clapped in irons if I let you gallop straight into that lioness’ jaws alone. I’m coming with you.” Doran began to protest, but he could see that Kerion had that look in her eyes. “I’ve also taken the liberty of reinstating your personal guard. Really, your highness, there are people in your own kingdom who would take your head for a copper, let alone those in Rutavia. You need to-”
“-start thinking before I act. Yes, thank you, Keri. Now, if we’re done talking, we have a world to save.” He trotted off toward the gate. Kerion rolled her eyes and followed.