by chayron (firstname.lastname@example.org), beta-read by HARPG0 and chris’cut
Wolfram was sitting on a patch of freshly mown grass along the fence which separated the stables from the training yard. He was watching his soldiers honing their skills.
Behind him, on the other side of the fence, men were gentling their horses. Wolfram could hear shod hooves hitting the ground, clinking against occasional stones on their way.
The blond had already done his share of training and now was having a break. He was also waiting for his king to finish his duties and come down into the yard for a ride on his new horse.
The tame mare had been chosen by Conrart, who knew that Yuuri was not very skilled in horseback riding.
Even so, the horse and the rider had to get used to each other and form a bond of mutual trust.
The prince leaned backwards intending to lie down on the grass. But, then, he frowned and returned into a sitting position. He rolled his left shoulder. Then he massaged it with his fingers.
He had sprained it while sparring with one of his bodyguards a few days ago. It was nothing serious and Gisela had prescribed him a jar of ointment that had a tart smell.
He had rubbed it into the skin a few times and it seemed to be working, but, occasionally, the dull aches still reoccurred.
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