Narrators POV
The morning air carries the scent of leather, horse sweat, and barely contains excitement as the royal hunting party assembles in the castle courtyard. Servants scurry about like ants, loading supplies, checking saddles, and preparing the hounds that strain against their leashes with eager whines.
Janelle moves between the horses with practiced efficiency, her hands gentle but sure as she checks bridles and adjusts stirrups. The massive destriers tower over her small frame, their breath creating puffs of steam in the cool air. She's dressed in her usual rough servant's garb, brown wool that's been mended too many times and boots that have seen better years.
"Easy, Thunder," she murmurs to Adrian's black stallion, running her palm down the horse's muscled neck. The beast calms immediately under her touch, his ears swiveling toward her voice.
"Magnificent creature, isn't he?"
