Chapter Five:

Stallions of Dark and White

Whitehall Palace, London

Blair entered the dinning room, head held high and smirking when all eyes set upon her and her attire. She wore the red gown that Chuck had given her, not caring in the least if the mere sight of it screamed scandal. Not wishing to resign to her seat yet, she allowed her eyes to scan over the room. Her search was soon over when she found him.

Chuck blatantly stared at her from across the room. His dark eyes were full of lust, raking her up and down. His tongue struggled not to lick his lips.

She giggled under her breath, bowing her head teasingly.

But his fists clenched at his sides, nostrils flaring. Suddenly, he was rigid.

She frowned, baffled with his change and reasoning for such behavior. It was then brought to her attention that he was not looking at her, but to her left. She turned, almost smacking into Thomas.

"La—Lady Blair, may I show you to your seat?" Thomas stuttered, sweating more with each broken word.

Her ruby lips thinned, but with disinclination she nodded. "Of course, Your Lordship," Blair returned shortly, extending out her hand.

He grinned, bowing first, and then taking it. As they walked, he commented, "That is a lovely gown you're wearing. Is it from France?"

"It was made there," she returned, jesting in secret.

Thomas chuckled, "Do you mean to tease me?"

Blair turned towards him, completely serious, and dropped her hand. "Not at all, my Lord," she told him, voice flat.

Thomas's face fell, but he quickly hurried to pull out her chair, and hide his embarrassment.

"Thank you," Blair sighed, taking her seat. She instantly crossed her legs and positioned her hands gracefully in her lap.

Thomas waited for her to look at him again, wanting to continue their conversation. When he soon learned she was not going to do so, he decided to resign to his seat as well. He sat down next to his fiancée and put his hand on the back of her chair.

"Surely someone of your rank knows that is not proper!"

The room fell dead silent, all looking to whom had snapped at Thomas. The young man stared fearfully at Chuck, immediately retracting his hand.

"Ex—excuse me?" Thomas asked, his voice dry and nervous. He pulled at the collar of his shirt and tried to keep eye contact with the Prince, though he felt much inferior. Not to mention, Chuck was standing and he sitting.

"Sitting next to Lady Blair when she is your fiancée. That is not proper. Move," Chuck ordered, glaring at him. He wore both a determined and unsympathetic expression.

Thomas quickly got up, but then looked around and saw he had no place to sit. All other seats were taken.

Blair giggled, "You have given him an impossible task, Your Highness. Take pity on my poor fiancé. I assure you it is not in his nature to be inappropriate." Though she seemingly vouched for Thomas, her voice was somewhat condescending. Still, she knew no matter how she said it, the reaction she wanted from Chuck would prevail.

Chuck was furious at Blair speaking for Thomas, against him—especially since the room seemed to agree with her. He pushed back his seat roughly and shook his head. "Take my seat then, Thomas. I shall have yours," he retorted.

Thomas looked from Chuck to Blair.

"Now!" Chuck demanded, raising his voice.

Blair watched as Thomas scurried from his seat, around the table, to Chuck's like some kind of rodent being chased by a broom. It took all she had not to show her amusement for the relation.

When Thomas took Chuck's seat, the previous dinner discussion began again.

Chuck bent down, touching Thomas's shoulder though his eyes locked with Blair's. "Good boy," he mocked under his breath.

Thomas's eyes fell to his lap and he pulled away from Chuck.

Blair gripped her dress on her thigh, biting her bottom lip. It was so wrong, but she found herself wanting to lust for Chuck. It was as if she found his dominant, snide, and rude behavior attractive. Her eyes followed his entire journey around the table and then met his when he pulled out Thomas's previous seat.

Chuck smirked at her and sat down. He took a drink of wine, a glass of many already had that evening. He watched her turn forward, smiling innocently, provoking him obviously. It worked too. He moved closer to her and leaned in, curving his hand around her thigh under the table.

"What a beautiful dress you have on, Blair—though, it'd look much better on my floor," he whispered in her ear.

She closed her eyes, shivering at the feeling of his hot breath on her neck. Quickly, she recomposed herself. Her eyes opened and she scoffed, pushing him away lightly. "You're repulsive," she retorted.

He only chuckled darkly and took another drink of wine, crudely admiring her chest; put on display thanks to the dress he gave her.

Blair sat up as the servants brought in the first course, setting it before them. She felt Chuck getting closer again. Clearly, he was a tad more drunk than usual.

"The King, your father, is glaring at us," Blair told him, making sure she did not look at him as she spoke.

Chuck rolled his eyes, sliding his hand between her legs. He was frustrated, cloth blocked his hand from feeling skin, but just pushed harder.

Her eyes widened and she tried to sit up, but he applied more pressure and she instantly fell back into her seat. "Stop it," Blair seethed. She hated that she was not in control, physically or mentally.

"I don't want to stop. I want to see if I can feel how wet you are for me; how warm. You deserve it, don't you think? You spoke for Thomas against me, yet you claim to hate him. Whether that means you lied to me or was just being disloyal—well either way you deserve punishment," he drawled, trailing off into a laugh.

Blair pursed her lips and then reached her hand across, grabbing his inner leg. She wanted to go one step further, but honestly could not do so. She squeezed hard. "How does it feel when the tables are turned?" she spat, glaring at him.

Chuck smirked, "It'd feel great if you moved your hand to the harder spot to find."

She scoffed, quickly retracting her hand. "I don't know why I let you dress me up in this. I do not care what you want."

"Yes, you do," he returned with confidence. His hand slid further in, grasping her more. "If you didn't you wouldn't have worn it."

Blair met his eyes, smirking. The moment it caught him off guard, she grabbed his hand, and dug her nails into him.

"Owe," Chuck spat, hitting it under the table when he yanked it away.

She picked up his wine glass and held it to him in means to toast. "You must be more careful, Your Highness," Blair giggled. She drank the rest of his wine.

XOXOXOXOXO

After dinner Blair disappeared from the crowd. She was in need of some time alone, even from Chuck. They were leaving for the palace at Hampton Court in the morning. It was in the country and she was dreading to be away from the city. Even if it was London, at least it had some life to it. For the long ride, she made a trip to Whitehall's prestigious study to look for a book she could read along the way.

"Quel dommage qu'une collection aussi parfaite prenne ainsi la poussière," Blair muttered to herself, shaking her head. She ran her fingertips along the titles of all the novels and religious learning one could imagine.

(English Translation: "What a shame for such a fine collection to gather so much dust.")

When her eyes caught hold of a particular book, she froze. "Utopia," she breathed. Her shaky hand reached out and retrieved it, holding it close to hear heart. She closed her eyes.

Blair could still hear her father's voice reading it to her. She'd fall asleep listening to his soothing tone and beautiful enunciation. Her heart clenched and she bit her bottom lip.

Then without another thought, she opened her eyes and walked quickly from the study, taking the book with her in a way like she would if she intended to steal it—perhaps she did. Her original copy had been lost back in France. She was sure she would never see it again, so she would have to make due.

She had just about made it back to her chambers when she stopped to peer into a peculiar room. The door was cracked open and one candle lit the surroundings dimly in the center of a long table. Blair looked around to make sure no one was coming and then went inside. She began to investigate what its use could possibly be for, when a secret looking door began to open.

Blair gasped and hurried to hide behind a heavy set of curtains. Her heart pounded as someone yelled, but luckily it was not at her.

"You sent him away without even asking me!" Chuck screamed, stomping into the room after his father. Bart shut and locked the other door which Blair had came in from.

She recognized Chuck's voice, but not how upset he sounded. The consequences of being caught would be dire, but she couldn't help herself. She peaked from behind the curtain.

Bart sighed and turned around calmly to face his son. He shook his head. "Charles, calm down. I sent Jack away with your best interest in mind," he told him.

Chuck scoffed, "My best interest? My best interest?" He began to shout again. "Shall you ever have any other answer for constantly removing those I care about from my life?"

"You will not speak to me in such a manner. I have given you everything you are entitled to as the Prince of England and more. And it is not as if I executed him, but simply sent him away to train our military," Bart reasoned.

"Our military is the best in the damn world! They didn't need him! You just finally realized he was someone I could relate to and had to pull him out from under me!" Chuck screamed.

Bart sat down, putting his head in his hands. "He was suspected of trying to have you killed. Surely you must believe me. I would never just so lightly send my own younger brother away."

Blair's eyes widened, now knowing they were speaking of that Jack. She had no idea Chuck cared for his uncle, or really anyone. Perhaps there was a greater issue at hand.

"My uncle would never plot to have me killed. You just hate him because he can understand me and you can't, because I'm more like him and proud of it," Chuck said quietly, but seriously.

Bart turned to look at him. "You are half right. I do hate that my own son loves my brother more than I, my brother who would likely have your head if it brought him closer to the crown," he breathed.

Chuck fell silent for a few moments, looked away, and shook his head. "I do not believe you. And I never said I loved him. I've never said that about anyone. You made sure of that," he concluded and then walked from the room just as fast as he came.

Bart rubbed his temples and sighed. Then he looked to the ceiling, as if he saw more than stone. "You shouldn't have left him, Elizabeth. I told you I couldn't do it on my own."

Blair sunk back into the wall, putting a hand over her mouth. She did not want to be heard, especially with the King in his current state. So she stayed there until he left and then slipped out, wishing she had never listened in on them.

XOXOXOXOXO

Outskirts of Surrey, England

The sound of rain hitting the carriage gave both a peaceful and gloomy feel to Blair on the ride from London to Surrey, Whitehall Palace to Hampton Court. They had started out later than planned due to the weather and were not making good time now because of it. She didn't mind much though, it kept her maids quiet, some even falling asleep. It was the perfect atmosphere for her to read.

"My Lady, we are stopping at some tents for the horses to be tended to. Some are getting out of their carriages and going inside," her French servant girl told her, peaking through the curtains.

Blair kept her eyes on her book and turned the page. She sighed, "Is the Prince one of them? I haven't seen him at all today." She made sure to speak in French on matters like this with her maids, that way not everyone could understand and many wouldn't put forth the effort to try.

The girl shook her head. "He is not, but I do see his carriage. His black stallion is traveling with him. It's his favorite horse," she explained.

"Hold this." Blair handed her book to another maid and then moved forward, peering out the window with the one speaking. "Let me see," she ordered.

"Of course, my Lady." The servant girl moved aside instantly.

Blair peered at the horse, smiling softly. It appeared wild, but confined—just like him. She suspected he and the creature got along well.

"I heard the Prince had an ill temperament this morning."

Blair turned around to stare at the girl who had spoken. Then she opened the door of the carriage and climbed out.

"My Lady, you will get wet!" one cried, trying to force her shall upon Blair.

"I am fine. I would like to ride with the Prince now," Blair informed them, nodding her head with a smirk. "But do not tell anyone."

The girls all seemed uneasy, but bowed respectfully in reply.

Blair shut the door and slipped between coaches to the side where no one stood. Then quietly, she made her way over to Chuck's, knocking on the door.

"Go away!" Chuck bellowed from inside, not even bothering to look out his window. His curtains remained closed instead.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Un prince ne devrait pas être si grossier," Blair, informed him, knowing he couldn't mistake her.

(English Translation: "A Prince shouldn't be so rude.")

As if on cue, the door immediately opened to reveal Chuck. He stopped quickly though. They both stared at each other for what seemed like ages. Then when he saw how wet she was getting, and not in the context he wanted, he motioned inside, and sat back.

Blair climbed in, closing the door, and falling into the seat beside him. Right away the stench of alcohol burned at her nose. She scowled, locating the few empty bottles on the seat across from him.

"Drinking will not make you feel better, Chuck," she told him. Her voice was scolding him some, but there was an underlying concern even she wasn't ready to acknowledge yet.

"What will then?" Chuck returned shortly, taking another swig.

She sighed and removed it from his hands, screwing on the cap, and putting it with the others. She smiled, "Me."

Chuck smirked with hazy eyes and moved forward, pushing her back against the seat. He kissed her like some hungered, wild animal. His hands began to roam, trying to make way between her fabric and breasts.

Blair kissed him back for a few moments, but soon twisted her lips and pushed at his chest. "No—no, not like that," she managed.

He growled in aggravation and roughly pulled away from her. "Bloody hell," Chuck spat. His foot kicked at the base of the other seat.

She watched him silently, thinking how most women would take that as their leave. Obviously, Blair was not most women and that would not be the case for her. Instead, she sat back into her set calmly and took out Utopia.

"Plato doubtless did well foresee, unless kings themselves would apply their minds to the study of philosophy, that else would never thoroughly allow the council of philosophers, being themselves before, even from their tender age, infected and corrupt with perverse and evil opinions," Blair read aloud, picking up right where she had left off.

Chuck, who had turned away from her in frustration, found his curiosity piqued at the sound of her voice. Gradually, he turned towards her and inched closer in his seat, looking over her shoulder at the text.

"What are you reading?" he asked. His voice was now hoarse, indicating he was still intoxicated, but not so high-strung.

Blair stopped and turned her cheek, meeting his eyes. "Utopia. Surely you, the Prince of England, have heard of it?" Her eyes sparkled with amusement at the option of him not having done so.

He shook his head, putting his hand on his chest. "I, Chuck, have not. Tell me about it," he requested, tapping the page with his finger.

She grinned, turning back to it and running her hands over the leather cover. "It is a marvelous work of fiction by Sir Thomas More. In it, he depicts a fictional society, located on an island, and all of its customs," Blair explained.

"Sounds so interesting," Chuck returned sarcastically.

"But it is. You only have to read it is all. Then you will see," she swore. She sounded with great passion for the work, but wondered if he would take notice.

"You have read it before?" His eyebrows rose. "Tell me how exactly you came across this Utopia?" Chuck furthered.

Her eyes instantly fell away from his and to the floor of the carriage. "My—my father read it to me as a child. First the French translation, then the English, and finally the Latin original, but the way he read it—it made each time sound like a new book. I never lost interest," Blair revealed.

Chuck tried to think back to a memory of he and his father he could relate hers too, but directly realized—he couldn't. So he tried to shy away from his solemn feeling and forced a smile. "Where is your father now? Perhaps he could convince me to read it," he opted.

She turned towards him, furrowing her brow. Surely, he was not so cruel. Or did he truly not know what happened to her father, at his family's own hand? When he stared back at her, looking innocent for the first time since she met him, she had her answer.

"I—I'd like to think he's in heaven," Blair whispered.

Awareness dawned on Chuck's face, the smile disappearing. He could not think what to say or do, yet his lips moved. "My mother's dead too."

She almost cringed at the way he said it, so bluntly. It appeared he was much more detached than she. Still though, she asked, "Elizabeth?"

He did not seem surprised, but used to hearing it. "Yes," he answered simply. No more would be shared though; he was not willing at that point and time. So he fell silent, hoping she'd understand.

Blair nodded and reopened the book, but started from the beginning. The carriage started up again as she read. She had no plans of leaving and doubted he would let her even if she wished to. So she continued, only stopping for a moment when Chuck rested his cheek on her shoulder to listen.

XOXOXOXOXO

Chuck walked with Nate, Edmund, and William through the courtyard. They were on their way to play a game of tennis, as per usual when at Hampton Court. However, Chuck's mindset was not so typical. His thoughts continued to wander to the previous day with Blair, in his carriage. It had been the first time in his life that he had allowed someone to comfort him and he hadn't even realized that until the moment was over. He now found himself craving that understanding and acceptance, but wanted to run away from it at the same time.

"Chuck? Chuck, did you not hear Edmund's question?" Nate asked. He patted his friend on the shoulder, trying to get his attention.

"What?" Chuck turned to look at the other men, confused with reality.

Edmund grinned, "I said don't you think we should invite dear Thomas to the match? You know, to hold our sweaty towels?"

Chuck chuckled, putting his arm around Edmund's neck. "I am not sure he has enough intelligence to handle such a task," he furthered. The rest of them joined in on his loud laughter.

William's slowed though as he looked forward, on ahead. He nodded, "Speaking of Thomas."

They all followed his gaze and saw Blair across the courtyard. She walked just a few steps ahead her two French maids she had brought with her. Her gown stood out among every woman's there, yet again. It was not only of the French style, but a shimmering gold pattern throughout the gown and flowing sleeves, tipped in red. Her hair was down, but pulled back around her face, and she wore a rather expensive ruby necklace.

"Ah yes. His gorgeous, French fiancée," Edmund commented. "Though I must say she doesn't seem to like him much from what I've seen."

Nate scoffed, "She's French, she doesn't like anything. Show me one of their women who aren't either bitter or loose."

Chuck ignored his friend's insult and handed back his racquet, pushing it into Nate's chest. "Stay here, Nathaniel," he ordered before walking off.

He headed right for Blair, but when she did not noticing him coming, he called out to her. "Blair!"

She turned and met him with a surprised, alert expression. It was that which caused him to also notice others had heard his improper greeting. He just smirked though, stopping, and motioning her over.

She momentarily spoke with her ladies in waiting so that they fell behind some when she approached him. Blair bowed, "Your Highness."

He laughed as if her behavior was abnormal and returned the gesture, but in means of poking fun. "Lady Blair."

Blair sighed, rolling her eyes as she moved closer to him. "What do you want?" she whispered.

Chuck touched the tips of her fingertips with one hand and lightly stroked the front of her dress with the other. "Shouldn't you be pleased with the Prince of England speaking to you, no matter the reason?"

"You don't have anything to say. You just want to aggravate me," she muttered, shaking her head. She then turned to walk away, but he grabbed onto her hand, and yanked her back.

"You will not leave until I dismiss you." His lips were pursed and his eyes serious. He wasn't used to someone doing that and he didn't like it.

She kept calm and casually removed her hand from his. "Fine. I shall stay here until I am dismissed," Blair said bitterly. Her eyes looked away from his.

Chuck sighed, "I did not mean to order you. I—" He stopped himself from apologizing. It wasn't what he did. He didn't have to. There was no reason.

Blair crossed her arms. She saw as Chuck moved into her view, touching her sides briefly.

"I am off to play a game of tennis. I was wondering if you would like to come and watch me play?" Chuck proposed, sounding more hopeful than he ever intended or wanted to.

She stared at him for a few moments and then shook her head. "I have never been one to fancy sports. I thank you for the offer though, Your Highness." Her tone was suddenly formal and she knew by the look on his face, he didn't like it.

He furrowed his brow. "I do not understand. The other day, our time in the carriage, I thought—I thought it was…nice," Chuck managed. The word burned sulkily at his tongue.

Blair was some astonished with his words. She didn't want him to know that and promptly changed her expression. She smiled, "Yes, but that was not the same. I prefer you alone, not—" She paused and looked directly at his friends, specifically Nate. "With them."

Chuck glanced back at his friends, biting his bottom lip.

She felt anxious and reached out, grabbing his hand where no one could see. She stroked his palm with her thumb. Getting just what she wanted, he returned his attention to her right away.

Chuck felt intrigued with what she had said and also, perhaps wanting the time she spoke of—alone.

"Your Highness, let's go!" Nate shouted, almost angrily.

"I am coming!" Chuck screamed in retort. He then nodded to Blair. "I must go now, but I shall see you tomorrow."

She was about to ask why, but he walked away. Only halfway, he paused again, and looked back at her. "What is it?" Blair asked.

"Don't see Thomas today, in my absence," Chuck ordered. It sounded as if he were warning her, his eyes very ominous.

She smirked, "I am not yours to command, Your Highness. Do enjoy your sport though." With that, she walked away.

Chuck had never felt so off his game.

XOXOXOXOXO

Chuck went over his appearance carefully in the mirror. He was handsome as always, but today he wanted to be impeccably handsome. His hair was brushed more than usual and a fully clean shave was displayed on his face. To top it all off he wore newly made, fine clothing, and magnificent gems.

"Introducing, Duke Nathaniel Archibald," his door servant announced, hitting the large staff against the stone floors.

Nate walked in with an excited smile. "I see someone is ready for a good hunt. Edmund and William are already gathered downstairs," he informed him.

Chuck didn't respond, but went to his nightstand and took medicine from the drawer the doctor had given him. He could afford no illnesses.

His friend frowned at being ignored, but played it off with a laugh. "Are you not dressed a tad too finely, even for the Prince of England?"

"I am not going hunting today, Nathaniel," Chuck finally informed him, meeting his eyes. He came in front of him, nodding. "You and the other boys will go though, with Thomas."

"With Thomas?" Nate scoffed and shook his head. "Wait, first off why and second, well—where shall you be?" he questioned.

Chuck smirked, "I am taking Blair riding, alone." He emphasized the last word greatly, then winking at his friend.

Nate did not return the fun behavior. Instead, he glared and laughed breathlessly. "Why don't you just buy her a bloody horse?" he asked sarcastically.

"I did," Chuck chuckled. He moved over to the window and lifted back the curtain so that Nate could see out.

Nate couldn't believe his eyes. Outside, next to Chuck's purebred black stallion, was a purebred white stallion. He had to get a closer look to believe it. Once he did, it angered him all the more. "A stallion? You didn't even buy me one when you got yours. You insisted no one was to be at your level," he spat.

Chuck was unfazed. He shrugged, "I still don't intend to buy you one. You have many fine horses, Nathaniel. This is for Blair."

"What's going on, Chuck?" Nate asked. He sounded now with slight anxiousness. It seemed more serious than he had ever thought it would be, Chuck's attachment to this… woman.

"It's not within your right to ask, only to obey, Nathaniel. Now do what I say and don't ask questions," Chuck told him seriously. He then nodded and began to walk away. "And next time, remember to bow!"

Nate looked back at where he had left, fisting his hands at his sides. Things were definitely changing—and he hated it.

XOXOXOXOXO

Hampton Court, Surrey

Chuck climbed on his horse and took its reins from the servant. He then straightened himself out, running a hand through his hair. His gaze drifted to a reflective window of glass and he admired himself, smirking.

"Will you be riding off to hunt, Your Highness? I shall fetch the dogs," the servant offered, looking up at him.

"No. There shall be no hunting or dogs today. I have other important business to tend to. If anyone asks though, I am hunting," Chuck replied, giving him an almost threatening look not to disobey.

"Of course, Your Highness," the servant said faithfully, bowing to his knees.

Chuck didn't respond, but rode out of the stables, back towards the castle. He slowed down when he came along the great stonewalls, looking up. His eyes scanned over each window, the curtains organized by color, and stopped when he came to the right one. Then he took a ball he usually hit with a racquet, and threw it up, into the window.

"You rascal children!" a maid shouted, coming to the window. She stuck her head out and froze. "Oh, Your—Your Highness. I am terribly sorry. I thought…"

"Where's Lady Blair?" Chuck interrupted, calling up to her in inquiry

The servant looked inside for a moment and then returned to his attention. "She is having her morning bath, Your Highness!" the woman reported.

"Well tell her to get out and come outside! Say that his Royal Highness demands her presence at once!" Chuck shouted, becoming rather anxious.

The maid glanced back into the bedroom once again. He realized that someone was clearly communicating with her and he had a good guess of who that was.

The girl shook her head, eyes widening. Reluctantly, she finally returned, "My Lady wishes to know why, Your Highness."

He frowned, "Who cares what the reason is? I commanded it. She will come down." His voice became more forceful, strong, and domineering. He was not about to let her just turn him away or treat him as if he were of inferior birth.

Suddenly, the maid was pushed aside and Blair appeared, fully dressed. "I care! You will tell me why you are dragging me out of my room and harassing my poor maid!" she retorted.

He smirked, but it held a strange combination of annoyance and amusement.

She grinned, leaning forward on the windowsill, placing her chin atop her knuckles.

Chuck sighed loudly, "Because I want you to come riding with me. Don't you want to see England for what it's worth?" His eyebrows rose in question.

She laughed, "And what is that? A shilling or two?"

His eyes narrowed and lips thinned. "Just like a woman, you past judgment without knowledge."

Instantly, she glared at him. "Je ne descendrai certainement pas maintenant , pas après que vous m'ayez insultée de la sorte!" Blair proclaimed.

(English Translation: "I shall never come down now, not after you insult me so!")

Chuck smirked, "Oh yes you shall. If not, how am I to give you your gift?"

She paused, clearly caught off guard and curious. "Un Cadeau?" she asked.

(English Translation: "A gift?")

He chuckled and motioned his hand backwards.

Blair watched as a servant brought out a gorgeous purebred white stallion, it standing opposite to Chuck's entirely black one. The white horse was dressed in red and gold, a magnificent and lavishly finished creature.

"Elle est Française," Chuck announced, stroking her mane. He knew those words would make Blair have to accept the gift, if for no other reason.

(English Translation: "She's French.")

"I'll come down for a closer look!" Blair said carefully. She then disappeared, only to reappear on the grass minutes later. Slowly, she walked up to the stallion and began to pet her.

"She likes you," he remarked, sounding surprised in means to tease her. Then he shrugged. "Though I am not surprised. Beautiful creatures tend to find each other."

Blair looked up at him, meeting his eyes. She was almost shocked with his sweet comment. Then she remembered how she must maintain herself, shook her head, and glared at him. "Is she mine without conditions?" Her voice was full of suspicion.

"Only one, that you ride with me," Chuck responded truthfully. He didn't need to use a horse to win her, just to further bribe her into the game.

She paused for a moment and walked to the front of the stallion. The horse bowed its head gracefully; Blair smiled, and kissed between its eyes. She sighed, "Fine. Show me what England has to offer."

Chuck smirked and clapped his hands. A servant immediately came over to help her up onto her horse, but he leaned over and handed her the reins. "As long as you can keep up with me."

Blair scoffed, "Please—Chuck, wait!" She watched as he galloped off, cried out in aggravation, and kicked her horse to chase after him.

XOXOXOXOXO

A/N: I am nervous about this chapter and if you guys will like it so please let me know. A big thanks to my beta, VanillaLatte86, and my translator, Rolling! I really appreciate it, girls! Tell me if you want more.