The Way I Am || Kveria/Altheras

The Way I Am
Kveria | Altheras​

The ringing of the phone broke the silence through the lavish home of Sebastien Basile De La Pons, eldest son of the multi-million dollar business magnate Jacques De La Pons. It was quite empty with the maids out for their break, and Sebastien's footsteps echoed in the spacious halls as he made his way down the stairs and toward his office, the sound silenced by the Persian chandelier rug that sat at the base of the staircase; like most other things in the home, the rug was an antique that matched the very clean appearance in the mostly white and silver decor. Every now and then there was the rare splash of colour to draw the eye so one would notice the minute details he'd had installed when his father had built this house for him to look like a small Victorian manor. Sebastien himself was dressed in an impeccable pair of black pinstriped slacks and a white button-down, sans necktie for now though he did have an engagement to attend later that day that would require him to be dressed very formally—it was a company golf tournament in which Sebastien had opted not to participate this time around, but he was still expected to make an appearance as the heir to the company. He wasn't looking forward to it, but he wasn't going to refuse either; he had a place in this world and he knew exactly what it was.

"Sebastien De La Pons, senior executive officer of Egnesse Financial and Investments speaking." His introduction was very cut and dry, humourless. It didn't matter that he wasn't working currently—you could never be quite sure when a business associate in another country would choose to call, and not answering with the right manner could be cause for some major losses; there were people who didn't take non-professionalism very well, and Sebastien thought that having a separate business line at home was redundant. It was a bad combination that he remedied with his complete subservience to the formal and uptight manner in which he conducted his everyday life.

The voice on the other end was nasally and he lowered his eyebrows a hair. This wasn't anything too important. "Hello Mr. De La Pons, this is Stacy calling from the State Rehab; I emailed you earlier in regards to terms of your brother Luke's release, and just wanted to give you a reminder that—" He stopped listening long enough to think back to the emails he'd received over the course of the last month, and he did recall downloading the paperwork that he'd faxed back only last week consenting to Luke's release on the condition that he live under Sebastien's watchful eye. The request had first been made to their father, but no doubt the man had turned it down and shoved it off on Sebastien; that seemed to be the way things were going now that Sebastien had the university degree proving that he could take care of all the things that his father just frankly didn't feel like dealing with.

He heaved a sigh, scrolling through the agenda on his phone and found that he in fact had set the date of pick up for today. He weighed his options, knowing that he couldn't attend both the tournament and drive out to pick up Luke; in this case, and just this once, he decided to give up the tournament, sending his father a quick text to let him know that he would no longer be able to attend. "Thank you, Stacy. I was well aware of the arrangements and I was on my way out when you called. I should arrive by noon. Good day." As he hung up the phone, he slapped his hand down on the desk; really, how could he have forgotten? Now he had to go and make sure his driver was ready, had him get the smaller of his two limousines ready while Sebastien found himself a lavender silk tie and the suit jacket that matched his slacks. The tie brought out the bright crystal blue of his eyes, and he checked in the mirror to make sure his golden hair was smoothed down just right before leaving the house, walking straight down the front steps of the veranda and entered into the waiting limo while his chauffeur closed the door behind him.

The drive gave Sebastien time to think about his younger brother who, as far as he'd been told, was attending rehab for the usage of illicit substances; the blonde could see why their father would refuse to help Luke in this case. At this point, he was in the middle of a major business venture that could make or break Egnesse in the future as they made an attempt to branch out from the financial side of things and open up into the world of technology; they already had some great minds working on this idea, and Sebastien understood that any unnecessary drama at this time could prove lethal to Egnesse's successful development. That was logical, from a business perspective. From a familial one, however... Sebastien had decided to do this because he was still relatively off the grid, not in the direct spotlight like his father was, and he'd felt pity for his younger brother. It must have been hard growing up the way he had, and with their mother's death he'd lost everything he'd had left. If their father were to die, Sebastien was to be cared for by an associate who was also to run Egnesse until Sebastien was fully ready to take ownership. Luke, as far as Sebastien knew, didn't have that. Besides, he hadn't seen his younger brother since the funeral and even then, they hadn't crossed paths long enough to speak to each other.

He vaguely remembered them spending the seemingly short years of their childhood together before the divorce when they were split up, and though there were visitation rights on both parts, Jacques didn't want anything to do with his ex-wife or younger son and encouraged the same from Sebastien. The blonde couldn't say he understood exactly why, so he went on quietly missing his brother until the email had turned up unexpectedly and Sebastien realised that he hadn't even noticed Luke's absence lately. His perfect lips formed a deep frown. He wanted to see his brother again, even if he didn't know what kind of a person Luke had turned into. In the grand scheme of things, this was an opportunity to regain a bond they'd once had, though there was also the possibility of things going terribly awry as Murphy's Law had a tendency to prove.

Before he knew it, the limo rolled to a stop at a small facility that wasn't at all what Sebastien was picturing. The door was opened for him and he slipped out elegantly, instructing the driver to wait right there for him; this wouldn't take long. It was quite a challenge to him, however, to wrap his hand around the door handle, pulling the swinging glass door open to allow himself in and stepped up to the secretary, informing her of his presence and intentions. She paged the release officer and Stacy appeared in a square archway to take him to a conference room in the back. She just needed him to sign a few more things and then he could be on his way. There was an obvious knot in his stomach as he wondered what he was going to say to Luke on their reunion. There was a plethora of things he wanted to say, wanted to ask, but he held them all back as Stacy left to retrieve his younger brother. It seemed like hours, when really only minutes had ticked by; when the door reopened, he stood out of habit and respect for those who had just entered.

Luke barely remembered his younger days in that big mansion he used to call home. He did remember his older brother though, he'd been nice enough to him, and life had been pretty good back then from what he could remember. Well, it had been good other than the constant arguing between their parents. One day, when he was about five, his mom had put him in the car, packed the trunk and backseat full of their things, and driven off. She had told him they were just going to stay in the city for a little while. That little while had turned out to be permanent, when she and his father had finally gotten a messy divorce.

They had lived well enough off of the monthly child support checks. His mother had kept the small apartment in the city, and he had ended up going to school with the inner city kids. To keep him from being bullied so much at school because of his name, she had it changed to her maiden name before she enrolled him. Her ex husband's last name had always been associated with wealth and power, and that wasn't really a name you wanted to have in the slums. It would turn you into an outcast real quick and Luke hadn't needed any help there. He was one of only a handful of white kids, there were maybe twenty of them in the entire school. Aside from that, he was also a straight-A student and a total geek, which didn't make him many friends at all.

Despite being an outcast in school, he had been a good kid. He went out of his way to help his mama with things, and he always did his homework and only ever got in trouble for 'fighting' when other kids would beat him up. He was an artist and intelligent, and he had dreams of doing something in the art field for a living. Things changed for him his senior year of high school though. His mother had been running some errands and was in a horrible car wreck. She was sent to the hospital where they tried to save her life, but in the end, she never regained consciousness, and she passed away. It was the hardest two weeks of Luke's life, sitting in the hospital with her, hoping that she would wake up, only to lose her anyway. She was the only family he'd really been close to.

In the weeks after she passed, his grades slipped, and then when he turned eighteen, the child support checks stopped. He barely managed to graduate from high school, and once he was done with that he just had no motivation at all to seek out a worthwhile future for himself. He had started dressing in all black, ever since the day of the funeral, he just fell into a long depression, working a dead end job just to survive, with no real hope for himself.

A few of the guys he worked with wanted to cheer him up, so they got him to hang out with them, and they all started partying together. At first it was just alcohol, but Luke, being depressed became an alcoholic pretty quickly. Being intoxicated numbed the pain of his loss and helped him cope, so he didn't really care that he was drunk every day. Eventually being drunk caused him to lose his job, so he moved in with one of the guys. They got into harder drugs together and he was hooked on them within a few weeks. To pay for his drugs the other guy made him be a drug mule, moving packages from big time dealers to the small time guys.

He lived like this for a couple of years before he got caught in a sting operation. He'd tried to run when the cops showed up and they'd hurt him pretty badly taking him into custody. He'd been too high to be smart and quit struggling, so he'd ended up with a broken arm, dislocated shoulder, some pretty bad lacerations, and a concussion. His injuries plus the story of how he'd ended up doing what he was doing had looked really good in court. His public defender had felt that he was just a good kid who had been through hell. In the end, the judge agreed with him, and sentenced him to 1 year in a rehabilitation center designed to provide help with getting off of drugs and psychiatric counseling.

So here he was, about three months past his twenty-first birthday, and he was finally going to get out of here and maybe be able to move on with his life. It was funny if he thought about it, he had been an alcoholic and drug addict, and quit them both all before it was even legal for him to drink. He was really excited to be getting out of this place, but at the same time really nervous. They had told him that he would have to stay with his brother, and he barely remembered him. He'd been at the funeral, he thought, but he hadn't really talked to him or anything. He had packed all of his clothes and meager belongings into one big cloth bag this morning, and had just been waiting until now.



When the nurse came to get him, he picked up his bag and followed her out to the large meeting room. She opened the door for him, and gestured for him to go inside. He stepped in and looked at his brother for a moment, before he hesitantly approached him and sat down at the table. His hair was died a bright red, and his clothes were a little shabby, but he was clean and he looked healthy. "Hey.... uh, it's good to see you?"

There had been no doubt in Sebastien's mind at all that this reunion would most likely be an awkward one; after all, they hadn't actually talked in years and now Sebastien was picking Luke up from rehab where he'd been shoved for drug-related charges. It would be lying if Sebastien were to say he wasn't only slightly uncomfortable, but he still made his way around the table to size up his younger brother. "Indeed, it's good to see you. If you're ready to leave, come with me then. The car is waiting out front." Very... very cut and dry. Sebastien had been much more energetic and talkative in his youth, and the change left the impression that he was hardly the same person; anyone could see the conditioning that had been done to prepare him for his future as part of his father's company, it was far too evident in the way he smiled haphazardly without it reaching his eyes.

He led the way out to the car after thanking Stacy quite briefly with a nod, a few curt words, and a handshake; the driver pulled the door open when he saw the two coming, plainly shocked at the sight of Luke's hair. Truthfully, it was an eyesore to the stuck up plutocrat, but he wasn't about to say a thing about it unless it was brought to his attention by some third party. "Here. Slide in," he instructed, waving a hand to the open door. It wasn't until they were safely inside the car and moving off that Sebastien's cold demeanor softened, even just as slightly as it had. He loosened his tie and removed his jacket, leaning forward to pull a half-filled bottle of champagne out of a small refrigerator along with two glasses. "I believe this is something to celebrate, is it not? Your full recovery from addiction, that is. It's not an easy task, so I've heard. I'm quite in awe, actually."

This was his best attempt at making conversation—his head held high and his speech kept formal, there wasn't a trace of the person he had been before the divorce left behind. Sebastien had taken it very hard, but growing up with his father had him believing his side of the story which, in short, demonized the woman who was his mother; when he claimed to miss Luke, Jacques told him that the vehement witch had practically dragged Luke out of the home and badgered for custody. It wasn't until it was already too awkward to call one day and apologize for never trying to contact them that Sebastien came across the truth in some old magazines that had highly publicized the break-up as if it were the Royal Wedding. He'd been more than upset, confronted his father once, and then never did again. From then on, and he would never divulge the reason as to why, Sebastien appeared much more subservient to his father, going so far as to drop the art credits he was working on so that he could work in the field of graphics and design and started taking business and computer classes so that he could join his father at Egnesse. It looked a little odd from the perspective of his private school teachers, but he brushed them off when they questioned it. There was nothing to be done.

"I want you to know, I'm missing a very important golf tournament for this," Sebastien spoke, pouring his glass of champagne and sipping it with practiced sophistication. He was trying to convey his feelings for their reunion, a sort of swelled happiness that had taken up residence in his chest, but instead it came out sounding like everything else—almost monotone, businesslike, pretentious. He couldn't even tell when he was doing it anymore, losing the ability to separate the airs from the reality as the two collided in a lethal crash course that left the perfect son in it's wake. Intelligent, good-looking, well-spoken, and charismatic; Sebastien had been conditioned to take the world by storm, and if that was his purpose, his father had done a good job retraining him from the tyrant he once had been. "Everything is in order at home for your arrival, as well. I have assigned one of my best maids, Alejandra, to tend to your personal needs—that is, doing your laundry, making your bed with fresh sheets daily, general housework in your suite, and in addition she may even prepare your meals or draw baths if you ask nicely enough. She can be quite testy, but I've kept her on for her excellence in her work. All of the maids have the hours of eleven AM to one PM daily as well as Sundays to themselves, and they enjoy it. Try not to bother them. Gregor is my butler, please don't harass him; he had a history of high blood pressure but he refuses to retire. You will also be assigned a driver if you desire, though I request you check in with me before leaving the home as I am legally responsible and I can't get into any scandalous activities at the moment—it was a risk simply bringing you back to the home at all, but I decided that a brother of mine should be part of the De La Pons household out of the goodness of my heart. Do you have any questions?"

The curt greeting had left Luke feeling rather alienated. His brother did not seem to show him any affection or offer him a hug, which was what he'd been expecting, just a hug. Instead he acted as if he would rather not speak to him at all, if it could be avoided, and then he simply took him out to the car without any further conversation at all. Luke had often wondered why he'd never called, and his mother would never let him call them first. One time, he had snuck and called, only to be cussed out by his father and hung up on. So, after that, he hadn't tried again, though he had always missed his brother. Even if he was expecting this reunion to be awkward, he was at least expecting his brother to be happy to see him. He sighed, lowering his head and following him out to the car. When the door was opened for him, he got in and turned to look out the window.

He was rather surprised when Sebastian started talking to him again. After the cut and dry greeting, he had honestly expected the whole ride to be silent. He felt like he was invading his brother's life, and like he was to be kept in another sort of prison, even if it was a very nice prison. He hung his head when his brother mentioned missing a very important event for this. So, he was already an inconvenience to him, and he was sorry for that. He just wanted to start over, and try to be a better person. The drugs and the alcohol had further robbed him of who he'd been before grief destroyed his life. He was determined to go back to school and get his life on track.

"I really shouldn't drink... even champagne. Alcohol is kind of what set me on my path to the dark side you know?" He chuckled a little bit at his own reference, though he really doubted his stuffy brother would get it. "Thanks, for doing this for me. I know it's an inconvenience for you, and I'll try to stay out of your way. Thank you for assigning me a maid and I will try not to bother anybody." The truth was, his maid would have it very easy. He might be likely to ask her to cook for him, but he was used to cleaning up after himself, so she probably wouldn't have to do much there. He'd just never been the greatest cook. "I'm sorry... that we didn't see each other for so long. I wanted to call... I tried once, but dad... well, he yelled at me. Told me that if I called again he'd do something horrible to me, so I didn't." He sighed a little bit, looking nervously down at his hands. "I missed you though. I'm really sorry that I had to hit rock bottom and you get stuck with me like this..."

Sebastien waited for a long while after finishing his glass and replacing the clean one he'd offered his younger brother. He wasn't certain what he could say to soothe the younger man who sat there staring down. He could practically smell the sweaty palms from where he sat, and whatever was left of his conscience, deep down inside, screamed at him. He'd forgotten how to be Luke's big brother, the one he remembered anyway, and he felt bad for this; he felt some desire to force himself to be who he once was, and searched for some way in which he could do this. There was nothing; he'd lost that childish innocence long ago and there was nothing to be done about it. Instead, he reached a tentative hand toward Luke's shoulder, as if considering patting it fondly, but in the end he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"I do know what you mean; I did want to contact you and Mom as well, but it was expressly forbidden," he spoke, soft and solemn, turning toward the blacked out window with a frown. "After the two of you left, he changed quite a bit from the way we used to know him. He stooped so low as to engage in fraud and laundering; which I believe is about half the reason for the divorce in the first place—she must have known he was dabbling in things he shouldn't have been... namely the young lady that lived across the street. We used to play with her younger sister and brother, if you'll remember.... What was her name? Lacie? Lydia? Something like that. Anyway, I'm sure you didn't know they were having an affair, and for quite a long time. At least since she started high school." There was heavy bitterness in his voice as he spoke and he couldn't bring himself to meet Luke's eyes. There was so much more he could say now, but that was best saved for another time. There was no need to be a Sebby Downer, as his personal maid always called him.

"Just... don't worry about anything. It isn't an inconvenience; I have too much room to share only with the maids." He tried to lighten the subject, though it wasn't something he was good at. He tried to push it, pretend that he hadn't brought up bad memories just a moment ago, and moved on while barely showing that he'd taken a hit from his own stupidity, running his mouth off about their father and wanting to elaborate on his methods of conditioning the young Sebastien into submission. No, he was good at shaking things off now—he'd had to be, to survive all these years. He supposed that Luke had it hard, but Sebastien figured he'd had it just as hard all those years. Neither of them had suffered any more than the other, and maybe they'd eventually find a way to lean on each other. That just could never happen as long as Sebastien stayed the way he was. He would try for Luke; he'd already made that decision. "Consider this a blessing in disguise, alright?"

Luke nodded, just listening to everything Sebastien said. He was always a good listener, largely because he was really interested in what other people had to say. He smiled fondly at his brother at the final comment. "I think it could be. You'll have to teach me how to act around guests and things like that... well, unless you'll just have me stay shut up in my room when anyone comes around. If you do, I wouldn't blame you." He grinned and gestured up to his bright red hair. "I guess I should probably dye this another color if you're going to be seen places with me. Maybe blue?" He chuckled a little bit, just joking with him.

He sighed a little, glancing out of the dark tinted window before looking back to his brother. It was his turn to reveal some things. "I always figured mom left him for a good reason. She said she tried to take us both, but he wouldn't let her. He locked you in an upstairs bedroom and was threatening to hit me if she didn't just take me and go..." He looked down at his hands again. "I'm glad I was too young to remember that day. I hope you were too? It must have been awful." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Mom kept trying to get back in touch, to get something worked out where she could at least visit you, but he never would let her. She missed you a lot."

"I had to use what little money I could scrape up for her funeral. I had to sell pretty much everything she and I owned except for some of my clothes... then I had to move in with this guy I went to school with, he let me stay in his basement for low rent..." He trailed off, looking a bit pained. "I'm sure our father told you he helped with the expenses, but he didn't. After the funeral, I was a wreck. I barely managed to graduate from high school. Then I turned eighteen and the small checks quit coming, so I had to get a job at a burger joint to keep paying my rent. I was miserable, I didn't really have any goals or even entertain the idea of going to college."

He sighed a bit at reliving his past, but he felt like his brother needed to know, to understand why he had ended up hooked on drugs. It had never been his intention, and he wasn't some delinquent. "Some guys from work thought I was too damned mopey all the time, so they started insisting that I come to their parties. They got me into drinking. At first it was every weekend, then it was every night. I became an alcoholic before it was even legal for me to drink. They were always happy to supply me. Being drunk all the time led to me losing my job, then the guy that was supplying me my booze moved me in with him. I was drunk all the time, so it wasn't hard for him to introduce me to harder drugs. Once he had me hooked, he had me running packages to pay for my drugs and what little food he'd give me. I was basically just a slave to him, if I ever rebelled even slightly, he'd just take away the drugs until I complied. I knew it wasn't right... I kinda wanted to get clean, but the addiction was so strong, you know? Then I got caught in a sting by the police, and I told them my whole story. I got lucky, I could have went to prison for a very long time." He shook his head at the thought. "So, I want to change my life now, you know? I think that mom would want that for me. I'll never be over the grief, but I've learned to cope with it enough now that I don't need to be drunk or fucked up just to stand to be alive..."

There was a long silence following Luke's confession where Sebastien wasn't entirely certain what to say. He shifted in his seat before leaning forward to pour himself a second half glass of champagne; it was less to do with wanting to wash the thoughts away with that pleasant bubbly feeling, and more to do with busying his hands while he thought of a way to respond. He was buying himself time. "Look...." he started, more than a little awkwardly as he swirled the last mouthful in the bottom of the flute. "It doesn't matter what happened in the past. You can spend the rest of the day settling in, but tomorrow I want you to set up some sort of system of education, whether you decide to go to a university or work via corrospondance at home. Put all of that behind you and begin to make goals, go somewhere with your life." He paused again, savoured that last mouthful and looked down at his hands with the perfectly manicured fingernails and the soft skin that had seen only a base amount of work. Hands that would never have to know what it was like to get dirty, hands that would never see a correctional facility or a rehabilitation program. Hands that knew what it meant when Luke had mentioned being enslaved by the man who had provided him with illicit substances.

Using emotional and physical abuse to control someone would generally count as slavery, manipulation, conditioning, or what have you. Sebastien had known that it was wrong all that time, but he was too scared, felt too worthless and empty to do anything about it. These were the things he was going to have a hard time explaining to his brother, though he did feel like he owed Luke an explanation for the way he'd changed over all those years. One day, maybe. But for now, it still made his blood run cold to think of how he would rather be doing something else, how he didn't care about Egnesse Financial and Investments or how it was going to expand to include this, that, and the other thing. He just wanted to be an artist; that was it. He wanted to be a graphic designer, maybe even a concept artist for movies and video games since he did have an eye for detail and the scenes he'd produced in his dwindling spare time were actually quite breath-taking. There would be no time for that after this new addition to the business, however; he had a strong feeling that his father was going to put him in charge of it to test his abilities and his loyalty.

"Tomorrow afternoon I am scheduled for my riding lesson." Sebastien stated, matter-of-factly, as he tried to make himself even more accessible, though it was plain to see how uncomfortable he was getting. "If you have interest and have set up a meeting in the educational institute of your choosing, I would like you to come along." He realised that it had probably been a long time since Luke had been around horses; it was something that Sebastien had always done, riding, and something he still enjoyed. He owned an imported Hanoverian mare, dappled grey in colour, who had shown up to the Grand Prix level internationally; coming upon her really had been a fluke and at the time Sebastien had been considering giving up riding to have more free time, but when the lovely mare registered as Her Highness, commanded his presence, he answered. He willingly enslaved himself to her charm and forfeited nearly eighty thousand dollars for the horse whose back he couldn't see over, who jumped five feet like flying came naturally to her, with an attitude as long as his limousine. He paid to have her imported, then paid almost two thousand dollars a month to board her in the highest class facility he could easily access. Occasionally he was able to find time to do more than just ride her in lessons; he took her to shows once in a while, and since he'd owned her, he'd had her bred three times, always producing perfect little princesses with their mother's flashy looks, attitude and aptitude. The oldest of the three was six, already competing in the 4'6" jumpers in Germany. The second, a three-year-old, was owned by a young lady at the same stable, and had just started under saddle that year, heading steadily for their first Level One Dressage test, skipping the Training Level entirely. The youngest was a year and a half, and Sebastien thought about keeping her until Egnesse began to get wildly popular; now he was just looking for the right buyer. Besides his art, Sebastien had a passion for his riding, and it was something that his father saw as an elite sport, something that only the rich and prestigious were good enough for, so he'd been allowed to keep it.

He turned his head, glancing at Luke out of the corner of his eye and wet his lips briefly. "You wouldn't have to ride if you didn't want to, and my coach doesn't generally take on beginners; but if it's something you would like to attempt, I wouldn't mind instructing you myself. Horses are excellent for healing, I assume you are aware." He still sat up straight with his head held high, his voice still held that crisp bite to it, and his expression stayed mostly neutral except for a slight softness in his eyes. He'd never liked teaching lessons, never had the patience for beginner riders and old schoolmaster horses that knew to slowly stretch their heads down and pull the reins out of the rider's inexperienced hands. He hated repeatedly telling someone to keep their heels down but not deep like a Hunter heel, to keep their back straight but fluid, to keep their elbows bent but hands forward, and "For God's sake, keep your damned eyes up! Watch where the Hell you're going!" He'd taken over lessons for three days when one of the coaches was in the hospital with a bad flu; he'd sworn up and down that he would never do it again. For Luke, he would make an exception.

Luke considered his brothers words for a few minutes and nodded in response. "I was actually wanting to go into some kind of art now. I don't know for sure what area yet, but yeah... I mean I was always really good at it in school you know? My teacher really loved my art and I won a whole lot of awards and things, and I was never really all that great at much else except for writing. I could probably do some kind of novels for a living or something like that. I will look around at all of the schools and see what I can find. It might take me a few days to narrow the list down some, but I know I want to do something creative with my life you know? Something that kind of leaves some part of me in the world when I'm gone. You haven't really lived unless you've changed or created something I think. I nearly lost myself over these past couple of years, and I'm really looking to get myself back. So, you don't have to worry about me not moving forward or anything. I won't live in the past, and I won't let the past control me either."

He listened quietly to the next part about riding, he had really not been around horses at all. He might have been when he was too young to remember it, but he had always rather liked horses. "I would love to come. Even if I can't ride, I wouldn't mind watching you. I've always loved animals, and I always thought horses were beautiful. Living in an apartment in the city though I only ever just saw the ones that pulled that one carriage that came out during big events. Other than that, I've really only seen them much on TV." He thought about that for a minute, it dawning on him just how very different their lives had obviously been up until now. They really didn't have anything in common at all other than just their parents. "I would like to learn to ride if the horses like me though... I wouldn't want to ride your personal horse though. Does the stable have any that are good with people who don't know what they're doing? I mean, I'm kind of scared to try with one that would intentionally hurt me you know?" He knew enough to know that a horse could be a very dangerous animal if it wanted to be.