The Steed
She is, just as he had said, magnificent. Not the tallest of horses, and less stocky than some. But she has presence. She looks like a master's sculpture in living ebony, every line proud and true.
As you come near she raises her head, nostrils flared and ears pricked, watching your approach with alert blood-red eyes.
Red eyes? That gives you pause. This horse is unlike any other, and you approach cautiously, expecting a nip or worse. But apparently she has been given her instructions just as you have, because she snuffs at you quite calmly, and there is nothing supernatural in the warm horse-breath, or the sleek velvet of her coat as you lay a hand on her neck. Given not as a reward but as a gift, a token of his trust and love, she is now the most precious thing you possess.
She stands perfectly still for you to mount, and when you touch your heels to her sides, she goes straight into a fluid walk, placing each hoof with clean, deliberate grace.
At the slightest urging, she moves easily into a fast canter. You could laugh for joy. The sun high in the sky, the open road before you, the deep rhythmic creak of saddle-leather, and Shadowmere's muscles working beneath you, her dark mane flying in the breeze of her own movement.
If she misses her master, she hides it better than you do. She bends her strong, supple frame to your every command. And let anyone, any creature, try to harm you, and she comes at the gallop like one of the Legion's finest war-stallions, teeth bared and ears laid flat against her skull.
You shouldn't be surprised. Of course Lucien's horse would be well trained, just like his Silencer.