Chapter 7
Cassandra scowled out of the window of the carriage as it bumped along the dirt road. Rebekah knew that out of all of her companions, Cassandra disliked dealing with the nobility the most. Unfortunately for Cassandra, she was part of the nobility and therefore was the best candidate to accompany Rebekah to the chateau of Duke Bastian de Ghislain.
"You can't be serious," Cassandra had drawled upon meeting with Rebekah, Solas, and Varric at the inn. Rebekah had produced the scroll that the messenger had given her and explained to Cassandra what had transpired.
Rebekah gripped the scroll tightly in her hands which rested on her lap. "You are cordially invited to attend my salon held at the chateau of Duke Bastian de Ghislain. Yours, Vivienne de Fer," is what the scroll contained.
Rebekah knew of First Enchanter Vivienne, but only in passing. She had heard First Enchanter Irving mention the imposing woman on occasion; usually it was linked to the ever growing discussion of mage freedom in Thedas.
Rebekah knew that Vivienne did not prescribe to any section of the circle hierarchy, preferring to voice her opinions without claiming allegiance to a particular party. However, it was also known that Vivienne agreed with Chantry supervision of mages and believed mages too powerful to be left unchecked. Hence, Vivienne was a strong supporter of mage circles.
Why she had sent this request was anyone's guess, but Varric seemed to think that the enchanter had power to be gained if the Inquisition were to be successful in closing the breach.
"The only thing I've ever heard about that woman is that she likes grasping at power," Varric had said within the confines of the inn. "And right now, the person standing to gain the most power in this war is probably you, Snowflake."
Vivienne was not the only person requesting their presence.
Rebekah, Solas, and Varric had arrived at the inn without much fuss or fanfare, but upon entering her room, Rebekah had been shocked by an arrow whizzing through the open window of her and Cassandra's room.
The arrow had lodged itself in the doorframe directly behind Rebekah, a piece of parchment pinned between the wood and arrow head.
The message written on the parchment was penned in a large flowing hand with doodles bordering the parchment. "People say you're special. I want to help, and I can bring everyone," it began and Rebekah had promptly headed to Varric and Solas's room before reading the rest.
"There's a baddie in Val Royeaux. I hear he wants to hurt you. Have a search for red things in the market, the docks, and 'roud the cafe, and maybe you'll meet him first. Bring swords. Friends of Red Jenny," Rebekah had read to them.
Once Cassandra had returned from the docks, it had been determined that these leads were worth checking out. Varric and Solas had been dispatched to intercept this "Friend of Red Jenny," and Cassandra was to accompany Rebekah to the chateau.
The silent journey from Val Royeaux to the chateau seemed to drag on endlessly. Rebekah sat rigidly, her hands clenched in her lap and Cassandra alternated between scowling out the window and scowling at the wall of the carriage.
"At least we managed to secure a carriage?" Rebekah had offered at some point in the journey and Cassandra had simply huffed and crossed her arms.
Cassandra had made it quite clear at the inn that she was not interested in traveling to this salon and continued to sulk in the unanimous decision that she needed to provide protection for Rebekah.
Rebekah had also reasoned with Cassandra by postulating that she was probably the most recognizable face of the Inquisition. The people in Val Royeaux knew who she was, had known her as the Right Hand of the Divine. Most people did not know what Rebekah looked like and the only proof of who she was was the mark on her hand, which wasn't exactly something she could call on at a moment's notice.
Suddenly the carriage lurched to a halt and off in the distance Rebekah could hear the sound of people talking.
"Maker preserve me," Cassandra muttered under her breath before the carriage door opened.
A pale hand reached into the carriage, probably to offer support to any ladies looking to exit. Cassandra promptly whacked the offered hand aside and stood. She walked over to the carriage door and gracefully placed on booted foot on the small step outside of the carriage before exiting fully.
Rebekah's nerves peaked as she followed Cassandra.
The chateau towered over them, the pale stone beamed orange in the light of the fading sun. Servants in silk uniforms milled about on the stone steps of the home, providing assistance to the few remaining nobles who lingered outside.
From the raucous noise coming from inside the chateau, Rebekah could only deduce that they were most likely the last to arrive.
"Let's get this over with," Cassandra growled under her breath as she strode towards the steps of the chateau.
"I didn't realize you hated parties this much," Rebekah attempted to joke, but Cassandra did not rise to the bait.
Two servants standing on either side of the large doors of the chateau bowed deeply before moving to allow them entrance. The doors opened into a foyer draped in candlelight, the pattern on the marble flooring shown darkly.
Just up a small set of stairs guests milled around in the dying light of the sun, glasses of rich wine held delicately in their hands. Everyone was wrapped in precious silks, their faces hidden by masks. Rebekah self consciously looked down at her worn leathers and hoped that no one would comment on her state of dress.
Another man stood within the doors at the top of the stairs, a rolled parchment held in his hands. The man opened his mouth to speak as they approached, but Cassandra quickly interjected in a bored tone. "Ladies Cassandra Pentaghast and Rebekah, of the Inquisition."
"Yes, ma'am," the man replied before clearing his throat and unfurling the scroll, as if he would find their names within it. "Lady Cassandra Pentaghast and Lady Rebekah, representing the Inquisition!" He cried out and people within the chateau began to turn to observe them.
Rebekah could not hear the exact words as whispers began to circulate around them, but she immediately assumed that they were being judged by the other guests.
"What a pleasure to meet you, my lady," a man purred in an Orlesian accent, his face hidden by a gold mask - it took Rebekah a moment to realize that he was addressing her and Cassandra. "Seeing the same faces at every event becomes so tiresome."
Rebekah looked out of the corner of her eye, hoping that Cassandra would say something, and was shocked to no longer see Cassandra standing beside her.
"So, you must be a guest of Madame de Fer. Or are you here for Duke Bastien?" He continued, his companion standing quietly beside him. She wore a silver mask that covered her eyes, the remainder of her face was hidden by the high ruffles of her gown and a rather large hat.
"Are you here on business?" The woman interjected. "I have heard the most curious tales of you. I cannot imagine half of them are true."
"You've heard about me?" Rebekah asked with confusion. She had always assumed that people would not know her by face or name, that they simply knew her as the Herald of Andraste. Was it possible that people were actually becoming aware of who she was?
"Of course!" The woman exclaimed, reaching forward as if to grab Rebekah's hand that contained the mark and Rebekah instinctively stepped out of reach. "Some say that when the veil opened, Andraste herself delivered you from the Fade."
"Fanciful stories, nothing more," came Cassandra's voice and Rebekah turned to see her walking back towards them from a darkened part of the chateau.
"Oh dear, what a shame," the woman replied, her head lowering in disappointment. "The tales of the Inquisition were quite fascinating."
Rebekah saw Cassandra rolling her eyes, the irritation almost palpable. She hadn't quite guessed that attending the salon would be this much of an issue for Cassandra.
"The Inquisition?" another male voice floated to them from above. "What a load of pig shit!"
Rebekah looked up to see a man walking down the stairs to her right. He was dressed in white silk and a gold doublet. A white hat draped over the right side of his face, obscuring the golden mask that he wore. Red feathers jutted out of the left side of the mask.
Rebekah couldn't tell if this display of wealth denoted the man's importance within the social circles of Orlais or if it was all for show.
"Washed-up sisters and crazed seekers? No one can take them seriously," he continued as he reached the bottom of the steps and stood before Rebekah and Cassandra. "Everyone knows it's just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts to grab power."
"I beg your pardon?" Rebekah wanted to say, taken aback by the man's accusation.
"Clearly you've been misinformed, sir. The Inquisition only wants to restore peace to Thedas. Our only concern is the breach, not political power," she said instead.
"Here comes the outsider, restoring peace with an army!" He retorted. Rebekah could hear a slight slur in the man's words. She couldn't tell if the slur was because of his accent or if the man was inebriated.
"We know what your "Inquisition" truly is," he continued, walking closer towards Rebekah. "If you were a woman of honor, you'd step outside and answer the charges."
Just as the man was right before Rebekah, she felt Cassandra's hand grabbing her shoulder and pushing her back. Rebekah turned to see Cassandra's other hand tightly grasping the hilt of her sword.
The man reached behind his back, moving to draw his weapon when a sudden crackling sound filled the room. Rebekah watched as a dense sheet of ice covered the man from head to toe, the sudden drop in temperature making their breath visible.
"My dear Marquis," a velvety voice cooed from above and Rebekah looked up to see a dark-skinned woman wrapped in a rather revealing silver and white dress descending the other set of stairs. "How unkind of you to use such language in my house...to my guests."
Her boots clicked on the marble staircase, her movements graceful and sensual in equal measure.
"You know such rudeness is...intolerable," she continued, reaching the bottom of the stairs to stand before them.
The man gasped, his body completely frozen, but his mouth was still functional. "Madame Vivienne, I humbly beg your pardon!"
"You should," she replied, matter-of-factly, coming to stand in between Cassandra and the marquis. "Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?"
She suddenly turned to Rebekah and Rebekah was struck by the woman's beauty, even with half of it hidden by an ornate silver mask.
"My lady, you're the wounded party in this unfortunate affair," Vivienne said. "What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?"
It was at this point, that phrasing, that Rebekah realized that this scene was all for show. Indeed, all other conversation had ground to a halt around them and everyone watched the scene intensely. This was a show for Rebekah of Vivienne's power, and Rebekah was unsure whether she was impressed or not.
"No harm done," Rebekah replied meekly and Vivienne nodded slightly before turning back to the man.
"Poor marquis, issuing challenges and hurling insults like some Ferelden dog lord," Vivienne said to him and Rebekah bristled at the insult towards her homeland. Clearly Vivienne did not remember where Rebekah came from.
Vivenne snapped her fingers and the ice dissolved. The marquis suddenly lurched forward and brought his gloved hand up to cover his mouth as coughs wracked his body.
"And all dressed up in your Aunt Solange's doublet. Didn't she give you that to wear to the Grand Tourney?" Vivienne continued, and Rebekah could tell that she meant to add insult to injury. Rebekah could hear a few of the people around them giggling or coughing to hide their amusement.
"To think, all of the brave chevaliers who will be competing left for Markham this morning... And you're still here," Vivienne said, explaining for the guests around her, her head tilted. Rebekah got the sense that Vivienne was moving in such a way to showcase her feelings of superiority. Vivienne's voice dripped with disdain, and the marquis lowered his head in embarrassment. "Were you hoping to sate your damaged pride by defeating the Herald of Andraste in a duel? Or did you think her blade could put an end to the misery of your failure?"
Rebekah's heart sunk as the man fumbled for words to combat Madame Vivienne's claims. While the man had spoken to her with ill intent, she didn't need to watch this public shaming to feel justice. Rebekah stared at Madame Vivienne's back, suddenly not liking this woman and the power that she wielded like a knife.
"Run along, my dear. Do give my regards to your aunt," Vivienne finished, clearly dismissing the marquis. He left the chateau with his head bowed low, his shoulders drooping forward in defeat.
If all Orlesian parties were like this, Rebekah could see why Cassandra didn't like to attend them.
Vivienne spun gracefully on her heels, a serpentine smile gracing her lips. "I'm delighted you could attend this little gathering. I've so wanted to meet you," she said, clearly addressing Rebekah, and Cassandra released her grip on Rebekah's shoulder and stepped back. "Please, come," she beckoned as she ascended the stairs and Rebekah followed, leaving Cassandra behind.
As Rebekah and Cassandra traveled back to Val Royeaux, Rebekah had the distinct feeling that she would regret accepting Vivienne's offer to join the Inquisition.
After escaping the fiasco with the marquis, Rebekah had been propositioned by Vivienne, who believed as "the leader of the last loyal mages" it was important that she lend her assistance to the Inquisition's cause. This, of course, was after she spoke at length of the embarrassment and shame that the marquis would suffer following the incident downstairs.
The dislike that Rebekah had begun to foster following the encounter with the marquis only grew stronger as Vivienne continued to speak. Rebekah could tell that this woman viewed herself as someone of high importance and she spoke with an air of superiority. Rebekah also didn't miss the back handed compliments and condescending tone with which Vivienne spoke to her.
Despite these first impressions, Rebekah had accepted Vivienne's offer, knowing that the Inquisition could use such a powerful ally.
Upon arriving back at the inn in Val Royeaux, Rebekah and Cassandra discovered that Varric and Solas had recruited someone as well.
It turned out that Red Jenny had been waiting for them to arrive at the location disclosed by the clues and she had been eager to lend her assistance to the cause. Though, Varric had said, that the woman was disappointed that the Herald had not come. Apparently she had wanted to see if the Herald actually glowed.
"She doesn't seem like the scholarly sort, but she's pretty good with a bow," Varric had explained to them with a shrug. This explanation had not been enough to keep Cassandra from berating him for making such a decision without consulting them first.
"You can interrogate her all you want when she gets to Haven," Varric had countered. With that, they had split up and gone to their rooms to rest before their journey back to Haven in the morning.
The morning sun glinted on the stones of Val Royeaux's market as Rebekah, Solas, Varric, and Cassandra made their way towards the city gates. Rebekah couldn't help but feel that the journey had been a waste of time and valuable resources.
They had come to the city hoping to gain allies, or at least an opportunity to speak with someone who could join their cause. While they had gained two allies, their value was yet to be determined, and they didn't come with a massive following to boost the Inquisition's numbers. Even more concerning was that they hadn't been able to recruit anyone who could help Rebekah close the breach.
Rebekah sighed deeply, her shoulders drooping slightly as the disappointment settled in. She had hoped that they would have been successful. She felt as if she were going back to Haven empty handed.
"It's alright, Snowflake," Varric piped up behind her and Rebekah turned her head to meet his gaze. "We've still got time."
Rebekah simply nodded and turned back to face the city's entrance.
They walked through the gates as one, all ready to put Val Royeaux behind them.
"If I might have a moment of your time," an unfamiliar lilting voice called to them from behind, just as they had passed the first set of gates.
Cassandra was the first to turn towards the summons. "Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Cassandra asked incredulously.
Rebekah and the others turned as well, dust kicking up beneath their feet.
"Leader of the mage rebellion," Solas simply stated. "Is it not dangerous for you to be here?"
"I heard of this gathering and I wanted to see the fabled Herald of Andraste with my own eyes," Fiona replied, her grey eyes meeting with Rebekah's.
Rebekah stood up straighter under Fiona's gaze, her shoulders rounding back so that she stood tall, the previous disappointment hidden from view. "A pleasure, Grand Enchanter," Rebekah addressed Fiona, followed by a curt nod.
Rebekah knew of Fiona of course, had once revered her. All of the mages knew of Fiona, the former Grey Warden who was cured of the taint and rose to the seat of Grand Enchanter. Fiona had also once saved the mages of Kinloch Hold when the previous First Enchanter had allied himself with dark forces.
However, Fiona was also the driving force behind the dissolution of the circles and while Rebekah agreed that mages needed more freedom she ultimately believed that circles were necessary.
"If it's help with the Breach you seek, perhaps my people are the wiser option," Fiona finished, tucking her hands behind her back.
"The mages are willing to help us?" Rebekah spoke before Cassandra even had a chance to reply.
Ever since the discussion of closing the breach had been posed, Rebekah had wanted to seek assistance from the mages. As a mage, she knew that the combined power of her comrades was the most likely source that could make the mark powerful enough to close the breach.
While Cullen had offered the Templars as a secondary option, Rebekah would be lying if she said that she had even considered it as a valid option. She didn't necessarily doubt the Commander's assessment of a Templar's abilities, but she did doubt whether suppressing the power of the breach itself would be enough to close it. She'd agreed to try approaching the Templars more so to appease Cullen.
"We are willing to discuss it with the Inquisition at least," Fiona replied and Rebekah fought the urge to deflate. "Consider this an invitation to Redcliffe. Come, meet with the mages. An alliance could help us both after all. I hope to see you there. Au revoir, my lady Herald."
Without another word, Fiona spun on her heel and walked back into the center of Val Royeaux, leaving the group speechless at the sudden departure.
It wasn't long before Cassandra regained her bearings and addressed the group. "Come, let us return to Haven."
Rebekah was unsure, but she thought that she heard an edge to Cassandra's voice, almost as if something about Fiona had gotten under her skin.
"See Snowflake? Things are looking up," Varric crooned as he walked ahead of her for a change. The statement made Rebekah's lips tilt up ever so slightly into a brief smile.
The journey back to Haven was just as uneventful as the journey to Val Royeaux had been. The Waking Sea was a more turbulent affair, the waters churning violently and rocking the ship. Rebekah didn't care to admit that she had gotten a case of sea sickness along the way. She suspected that she would be several pounds lighter once they reached their destination.
They arrived back at Haven to find that nothing had changed. Soldiers were still running drills around the camp and into the mountains, the townsfolk going about their daily business, the smiths working tirelessly in the lean-to by the stables.
For once, it appeared that people did not take notice of Rebekah as she returned and she was thankful to be a nameless citizen, while it lasted.
"We should head to the Chantry, debrief the others," Cassandra spoke to Rebekah.
"Right," Rebekah replied softly, her exhaustion settling over her like a heavy blanket.
"Well, while you two do that, I'm off to have a drink. Chuckles, care to join me?" Varric inquired, his tone more upbeat and chipper than the rest of them.
"Thank you, but no. I'm going to go meditate at the lake," Solas replied.
Varric rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Sounds thrilling."
As they reached Varric's tent, the group split up. Cassandra and Rebekah went to the left and up the stairs towards the Chantry. Solas and Varric went right, one towards the tavern and the other towards his hut to stow his belongings.
The Chantry doors were already wide open when they reached them, the candles inside casting a faint glow on the stone floor.
"It's good you've returned," Josephine's voice floated to them and she appeared from behind a pillar in her customary garb. "We heard of your encounter."
"How did you already hear about that?" Rebekah asked with confusion, her eyes narrowing.
"My agents in the city sent word ahead, of course," Leliana called and Rebekah shifted her gaze to see Leliana and Cullen walking towards them from the council chamber.
They all came to a stop in the center of the Chantry, forming a circle underneath a chandelier. Candlelight flickered over their features giving them an unearthly glow.
"It's a shame the Tempalrs have abandoned their senses as well as the capital," Cullen said, crossing his arms over his breastplate.
"At least we know how to approach the mages and Templars now," Rebekah began, walking past the group and heading towards the council chamber. The others followed her. "Or at least we have an invitation to discuss things with the mages. It appears that we will get no help from the Templars at this point."
"Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember," Cassandra said in agreement with Rebekah's assessment.
"True, he has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what?" Leliana mused. "My reports have been very...odd."
"We must look into it," Cullen said plainly, believing that this would be a foregone conclusion. "I'm certain that not everyone will agree with the Lord Seeker."
"Or the Herald could simply go to meet the mages in Redcliffe instead," Josephine interjected just as they reached the door.
Cullen quickly rounded on her and Josephine took a step back at the sudden movement. "You think the mage rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse."
"I could at least find out what the mages want," Rebekah interjected, attempting to hide the fact that the felt more comfortable asking her own people for help.
While Rebekah did not hold any ill will towards the Templars, she knew that they would probably be less likely to help their cause knowing that the Herald of Andraste was a mage. She had a suspicion that the Order would be just as likely to put her down as to help her. With the mark, she could be deemed even more dangerous by the Templars if they believed that it granted her more power.
The mages on the other hand could see her as a beacon for a people divided. She could be a guiding force in establishing a place for mages, something better than the original design of the circles.
"No doubt what they've always wanted, support for their cause," Cassandra countered and Rebekah could hear the hint of annoyance in her voice.
"And what of their cause, are we not allowed to have a voice?" Rebekah asked, an edge to her voice, and for once Cassandra seemed taken aback.
Everyone was silent for a moment, the "we" hanging in the air between them. Sometimes it seemed to Rebekah that they forgot that she was a mage, an apostate. Was she supposed to throw who she was aside simply because they didn't agree with what the mages wanted most, freedom?
"We shouldn't discount Redcliffe," Josephine replied after the brief silence, breaking the tension that had been growing among them. "The mages may be worth the risk."
"They are powerful, Ambassador," Cassandra began and then she turned to meet Rebekah's gaze. "But more desperate than you realize."
"So it'll be dangerous. Haven't I been in danger ever since I fell out of the Fade? And of course they're desperate, with everyone either trying to kill them or imprison them," Rebekah countered, and she could feel the hot hand of anger gripping her heart.
"If some among the rebel mages were responsible for what happened at the Conclave..." Cassandra began, trailing off as everyone thought of the implications.
"The same could be said of the Templars," Josephine replied. Finally Rebekah broke Cassandra's gaze, her face hot with the anger roiling inside her.
Rebekah took a deep breath to center herself and felt a modicum of that anger slipping away. She was grateful to Josephine for being so open-minded and seemingly taking her side, but she was also shocked and irritated by Cassandra's small mindedness and accusations.
"True enough," Cullen said and Rebekah suddenly realized that he had been mostly silent during all of this and she was surprised that he hadn't taken Cassandra's side outright. "Right now I don't think we have enough influence to approach the Order safely."
"Then the Inquisition needs agents in more places, that's something you can help with," Cassandra replied.
"Well, we did already recruit Vivienne and that elf, what was her name? Sera?" Rebekah provided and Cassandra nodded in agreement.
"I also recruited a man when I was in the Hinterlands. Warden Blackwall," Cullen told them and Rebekah was suddenly curious to meet this man. She hadn't seen a Grey Warden since King Alistair and Queen Elena had saved her at Kinloch Hold.
"It looks like we have some work to do," Leliana said and with that the impromptu meeting ended and the council members dispersed until only Rebekah and Cullen were left.
"I trust that your journey to Dennet's home was successful," Rebekah said to him once the silence had stretched between them for too long. She had discovered that she now found it much easier to talk to him now since they had gotten better acquainted.
It wasn't easier to talk just with him. She found it easier to talk to all of her companions and didn't feel like she needed to hide her thoughts and opinions. While she had once kept everything bottled up, she now found herself speaking up and making her voice heard. Her shy nature was giving way to a slightly more confident personality and while it was something new for her among these people, she found herself happy for the change.
"Yes, though once he learned how small our stables are, he only agreed to bring enough horses for the Inquisition leaders," Cullen replied as he reached his gloved hand up to ruffle the hair at the back of his neck. "That's actually why I stayed behind. I wanted to see if you would like to meet your horse."
Rebekah's eyes widened slightly. "I get my own horse?" She asked softly, and she could feel excitement start to stir in her belly.
She had always wanted a horse as a little girl. Then again, what little girl didn't want a horse? Her family had never been able to afford one, and she had only had the opportunity to ride a pony once when she was very young. At the memory she suddenly deflated. "But, I don't know how to ride."
Cullen chuckled and Rebekah raised her gaze to see his face light up with amusement.
"He's quite dashing when he doesn't look so serious," she thought to herself and then furrowed her brow at the thought. "You most certainly shouldn't be thinking anything like that."
"Well, I guess you'll have another training session in your already busy schedule. Come, she's waiting for you," he told her before skirting around her to exit the council chamber.
They made their way out of the village in silence, Rebekah having to walk a little faster to keep up with Cullen's longer strides. Rebekah could smell the stables as soon as they reached the village gates and she saw Dennet standing at the opening, yelling at someone inside.
"Good morning, Dennet," Cullen greeted as they approached him and Dennet stopped his shouting to give them a sour smile.
"Commander, Herald," he greeted with a curt nod.
"I've just come to show the Herald her horse," Cullen replied and Dennet wiped his hands on his brown breeches and stepped out of the doorway.
"Of course. Jasper, get out here!" He shouted, and a young boy with a messy mop of brown hair came darting out. "We'll give ye a moment."
"Thank you," Cullen said and without thinking, he reached out and placed his hand at the small of Rebekah's back and ushered her inside.
Rebekah blushed, heat that wasn't from anger creeping across her cheeks as they walked down the length of the stalls until they reached the last one.
Inside was a brown and white piebald mare who lifted her head to the lip of the door to greet the new arrivals.
"Maker," Rebekah breathed and she reached her hand out slowly before retracting it and looking at Cullen. "Can I touch her?"
Cullen laughed again and nodded. "Of course you can touch her, she's yours."
Rebekah raised her hand and placed it on the mare's snout. The mare exhaled and nudged her snout against Rebekah's hand. A large smile spread across Rebekah's features, her eyes shining with glee. She was practically giddy.
"Does she have a name?" Rebekah asked, turning to meet Cullen's eyes. She saw something there for a fleeting moment, something she couldn't quite identify, but it was gone too quick for her to assess.
"Funnily enough, her name is Magic," Cullen replied with a smile and Rebekah narrowed her eyes.
"Really?" She asked incredulously and he nodded.
"Once I heard her name, I knew she was meant for you," he told her, the laughter in his voice making his tone jump up and down. "That, and of course her temperament is perfect for an inexperienced rider."
She rolled her eyes and turned to gaze at Magic, the mare happily rubbing her snout against Rebekah's palm. "Thank you, Cullen," she said sweetly as her nerves settled and a calm fell over her.
"You're welcome," was his soft reply.