Chapter 4: Shadows in the Stables

That night, I went to the stables. The air was crisp, the stars bright overhead. The horses shifted in their stalls, their breath steaming in the cold night.

Night had fallen, and the chestnut mare flicked her tail in the moonlight, beautiful and serene. She moved with a quiet grace, her coat gleaming in the silver light. I felt a kinship with her—both of us trapped, both longing for freedom.

Judging by her belly, she must have been at least five months along. Her sides were swollen, her movements slow and careful. I reached out, offering a handful of oats.

I tried to win her over with feed, but she didn’t like strangers, holding her head high, ignoring me. She sniffed at my hand, then turned away, unimpressed. I smiled, undeterred.

Until I noticed a bleeding wound on her leg. The cut was fresh, blood oozing down her shin. My heart clenched with worry.

This, I could handle. I rolled up my sleeves, pulling out the supplies I’d hidden in my apron pocket.

I washed the wound with saline, disinfected it with rubbing alcohol, then wrapped it in gauze. The mare flinched, but didn’t pull away. I worked quickly, my hands steady and sure.

The conditions were crude, but my habit of keeping an emergency kit had finally come in handy. I thanked my past self for thinking ahead. Sometimes, small acts of preparation made all the difference.

Two days later, when I checked again, the wound had already scabbed over. The mare greeted me with a soft nicker, her eyes bright. I felt a small surge of pride.

With that bit of trust established, the mare didn’t resist when I came to collect her urine. She stood still, patient and calm. I murmured words of thanks, stroking her neck.

“How’d you get Molly’s wound to heal so fast when the medicine wasn’t doing a thing?” The voice startled me. I turned to see a young man leaning against the stall door, his eyes curious.

A handsome young man in black, with an air of wild freedom. He looked out of place among the polished floors and starched collars of the Whitaker estate. I liked him instantly.

There were many guests staying at the Whitaker estate, and several young men were said to love horses, each with their own attendants. The stables were a world apart, full of secrets and stories. I wondered what brought him here tonight.

Anyone in the stables was either a groom or a guard. He didn’t look like either, but I didn’t ask.

I kept working. I focused on the task at hand, pretending not to notice his gaze.

“If you just wrap a wound with herbs without cleaning it, it’ll get infected. Use whiskey or rubbing alcohol to disinfect it. As long as you keep the wound clean and dry, it’ll heal on its own.” I spoke quietly, not wanting to draw attention. Old habits die hard.

The body’s ability to heal is strong. Antibiotics just help.

“That’s a new trick. Where’d you learn it?” He sounded genuinely interested, his eyes bright with curiosity.

I finished tying the bandage, stood up, and smiled at him. “No need to ask. I’ll give you some medicinal whiskey. In exchange, could you help me out? From now on, can you save this mare’s urine for me?”

He laughed, the sound warm and infectious. “You’re a strange one, Miss.” He was amused by my odd request. “What do you need horse urine for?”

I shrugged, grinning. “That’s a secret.”

Every day, I went to collect horse urine. It became a ritual, a small act of rebellion. Each time, the young man met me with a smile and a story.

Every day, he came to see me. He brought apples for the mare, whiskey for me, and questions I didn’t always answer.

He wanted to learn how to make medicinal whiskey. I teased him, saying he’d have to pay in favors. He laughed, promising to keep my secrets safe.

I told him if I taught him, I’d starve. He grinned, undeterred. “Maybe I’ll just have to keep coming back, then.”

He asked which wing I served in. I dodged the question, changing the subject. Some secrets were better left unspoken.

I didn’t say. He just smiled, as if he understood.

He said I had medical skills—could I help Molly deliver when the time came? I promised I would, my heart warming at the trust in his eyes.

I agreed. He squeezed my hand, gratitude shining in his smile.

But halfway through collecting urine, Molly disappeared. So did he. The stables felt emptier, the silence heavy. I missed them both more than I cared to admit.