Marcus kept one hand beneath the saddle while the bay mare shifted under Evelyn.
Cold leather creaked against his glove. The horse’s breath smoked between them.
“Get down.”
Evelyn met his eyes.
Not frightened.
Assessing.
She dismounted on the far side before the damaged girth took her weight again.
Marcus pulled the leather into view and used his body to block it from the nearest courtiers.
The cut was thin and deliberate.
Someone had sliced almost through the strap, then tied a second knot over the damage. It would hold during a quick inspection.
It would fail once the mare began to move hard beneath a rider.
Evelyn came around the horse.
“Show me.”
Marcus held the girth where she could examine it without reaching across him.
Her bandaged hand stayed close to her coat. With
