Cold

Bel pulled the horse's reins as she reached the front of the castle. She turned to Davien, who was pulling up beside her. "I win," she said.

"No," he replied, dismounting his horse. A servant rushed forward, head bowed, and took the reins. "I let you win."

"Ha," she laughed. "Yeah, right."

Davien stepped beside her horse and placed his hands on her waist. "Let me help you." Bel jerked, startling the horse. "Careful, you'll fall off."

"Fall off? Don't be ridiculous, and this is your fault. Get your hands off me."

"Bel," he called softly, glancing at the servants who had paused to watch. "Let your husband help you."

Bel glared at him, lowering her voice as much as her anger would allow. "I can help myself. Let me go."

He shook his head. "It would be rude of me to let you dismount on your own. And you promised."

"No part of my promise said I'd let you help me down, and I got up myself. I don't need your help."