Butterfly Reign

21. When I Let Go

Ranboo comes to visit Carl almost every day. Among giant marble domes and columns engraved with gems, he is like a coal char among diamonds, but here in the stables he feels almost at home. Back in Quackity's manor Ranboo's morning used to start with the horses' high-pitched neighs and went by with cleaning and grooming, brushing and saddling, until it was too dark for him to see his own feet.

Animals don't draw a line at nobility and common folk, or former slaves for all that matter. Carl inhales carrots from his hands like they are straw, snorting into his hair when the treats run out. Ranboo chuckles and half-heartedly pushes the stallion's away. Suddenly Carl jerks his head upright, his ears turned towards the entrance behind Ranboo's back.

"You spend a lot of time in the stables, Ranboo, don't you?" A female voice asks.

Spinning around, Ranboo turns rigid. A group of nobles have gathered around Marchioness Beau. A wide brimmed hat, tilting with the weight of floral and laced decorations, shadows her face, matched with dark velvet dress and slick black gloves.

Ranboo's gaze passes more familiar faces, and he resists the urge to cower. It just has to be his luck that he runs into Theseus' subordinates: secretaries coming in and out of the crown prince office on a normal day and lower-ranking nobles that flocked him during the Summer Solstice. At least the prince himself is nowhere to be seen.

"Is there, uh, a problem with that?" Ranboo startles.

Beau exchanges a glance with the other nobles, snickering. "Why, of course not. In fact I believe you could lend me a hand. The Emperor speaks of your kindness highly, surely you won't refuse a small favor."

"Of course! How can I help?"

"We," she gestures at the other nobles, "have planned to take a ride around the palace. Could you saddle my horse for me?"

Five pairs of gazes tear into Ranboo, and he swallows sickly. Here it is again, the feeling of walking on a field full of traps. Tubbo has been teaching Ranboo court norms and manners to the best of his abilities, but it's slow and monotonous labor. He couldn't understand why the order at which you greet nobles might matter or why he would have to wait to be dismissed from the table when he's already full. Some things like titles and bowing have started turning into habits, but the rest Ranboo notes in his journal as a reminder. There is bound to be something written in there that would hint at the meaning hidden behind Beau's words, but the memory book lies in his chambers, and an answer is demanded from him now.

"...Sure," he says cautiously. "What does it look like?"

The snickering becomes louder. Ranboo's ears are practically on fire, and he still doesn't understand what he has done wrong.

"It's a palomino stallion with a white blaze on his muzzle," Beau smiles.

"This one?"

Techno appears behind a corner, leading a horse, and the nobles gasp in surprise. Beau picks up the hems of her dress and curtsies-her hang low, respectful-and the others follow with their bows. Ranboo tries to bend as well, but Techno gestures him to a stop.

"Ranboo, meet your new horse," Techno says, tugging at the reins of a stallion... one that exactly matches Beau's description. The lady's face twitches from where she had barely raised her chin. "We wanted to get you a mount anyway. This stallion is good-tempered and will do well for a beginner. What will you name him?"

"I don't..." Ranboo wants to say that he doesn't understand what's going on, but Techno's calm blue eyes are asking, trust me, so he says, "Um, maybe Buddy?"

"Er, a name as good as any other." Techno shrugs, handing Ranboo the reins.

"Your Imperial Highness, that is my horse," Beau breaks her curtsy before Techno has allowed her to.