She often skipped her lessons to sneak down to the stables to watch her father’s Master of Equus or his apprentices work with the horses.
Ever since she could sit up, Christine had been fascinated with the large four legged creatures. Her father, the King, had given her a smart little black and white tobiano pony for her second natal day. She was almost twelve now and quite tall for her age, often mistaken for a girl of fourteen or fifteen. She had outgrown the pony and was hoping her father would give her a horse when she turned twelve.
The stable hands and grooms were all quite familiar with her visits to the barns. She asked questions of pretty much everyone. She had questions about the care and training, feeding and grooming.
Often times, she would sneak down to see Old Shamus, the Master of Grooms. When she was little, about five or six, Old Shamus would hoist her up onto the back of whatever horse he happened to be cooling out after its workout. He would lead her around answering all her questions.