The stable yard buzzed with activity as Percival dismounted, his face hard with suppressed fury. His eyes locked on Lyra, scanning for injuries.
"Are you hurt?" He approached her with quick strides, hands reaching to steady her.
Lyra shook her head, still stroking Chasing Wind's neck. "I'm fine. He's the one who took the brunt of it."
Percival's gaze shifted to the angry welt on the stallion's flank. His jaw tightened. "Raphael did this?"
Before she could answer, the clatter of hooves announced the arrival of the others. Raphael led the pack, his expression caught between triumph and concern. Behind him rode Orla, Jasper, and the socialites, all craning their necks to assess the damage.
"What a shame," Raphael called out, false sympathy dripping from his voice. "Looks like your horse is too spirited for you to handle, Lyra."
Lyra turned to face him, her eyes cool. "Actually, I handled him perfectly. Your little stunt failed, Raphael."
