Julis was not in the stables the next day when Irenya looked for him.
‘Not seen ‘im, my lady,’ replied the horse master. ‘Though I ‘eard ‘e is back.’
She wondered where Julis put his head down, dumped his things. She hadn’t the slightest idea. Clearly, he didn’t share accommodation with the other horse masters.
Later, as she practised scales on the cirayla, Julis appeared in her peripheral vision, as though the air had disgorged him to stand just beyond the beak of the griffin.
‘Julis!’
He faced her through the strings, incongruous in a bright yellow jacket and grinning broadly. ‘Princess.’
She stepped out from behind the cirayla and leaned her elbows on the griffin’s wing. ‘How was the journey—the horses—did you get them to where they’re supposed to be?’
‘I did.’ He listened, mouth
