32 Making Hay

I grimaced because even that little effort of laughing hurt. I rolled my eyes at my pathetic self, then tried to sit up straighter in my saddle, groaning a little.

Emory made a face. "I'm sorry you're having such a difficult time, Zara, truly."

"It's fine. It's my own fault for not just calling in sick. In my defense, I didn't know the ride was three hours each way."

Emory giggled. "Could you imagine his face if you had begged off? 'I'm very sorry. Your Royal Snackness, but I simply cannot ride today.'"

I coughed at the idea of referring to David as a snack—but I couldn't fault her logic.

"He is lickable," I murmured, lowering my voice and turning to make sure Ash was far enough back not to hear. "And those shoulders."

Emory giggled. "I see you aren't unaffected by our King's... assets."

"I'd love to get my hands on his assets any day of the week—Oh! Hi, Ash!"