The moon hung high in the blanket of rich velvet, stars twinkling like the diamonds that usually adorned his brow, fingers, clothing. Now though, the King wore the most basic of commoners clothing, striding across the palace grounds to the stables, kept far from sight to keep any visiting nobility from seeing the filth of them. While most wouldn’t expect the King to visit this area of the grounds, the staff had grown used to the occurrence and simply took it for the simple fascination of what was kept inside, that the King was simply grooming his newest pet.

His guard following just two steps behind, Kibum clutched at the small package in his hand, the offering he held to his stead every night in the hopes of maybe gaining some trust. It wasn’t because of pride or wanting control like many believed, no it was because he truly wanted to do right by him, let him know this place could be home.

“Stay outside, please.” Kibum muttered to his guard, his hand on the gate to the stable. While he knew it was easy to see inside the stable even with the gate closed, he wanted to feel the privacy of just distance between him and the guard who never strayed far. He received a nod of acknowledgement and satisfied, Kibum entered the stable, closing the gate behind him.

The stable was very well kept, tidied thrice a day, the steads inside well cleaned and groomed once a day to ensure they were suitable for riding at any time. Many had become resigned to their life there, needing no restraint even when in their stalls, allowed to move freely. They’d even been allowed to breed if they desired, two new foals having arrived within a year.

One stallion however, strong, tall and with the will of a mountain, wasn’t so enlightened to the life given to him. He stood straight at all times, defiant and silent, meeting the King only with eyesight, swirling orbs of chocolate that seemed to sparkle like the stars in the sky.

The King approached the stead, the only one he had been unable to ride, the stall kept locked tight for precaution. A harness was strapped to the stallion’s upper body, a bit in his mouth in the most cruel of confinements. Startled by the device, Kibum quickly unlocked the stall, and even if the stallion avoided him, turning his head away, Kibum managed to unclip the strap that kept the bit in place and gently took it from the stead’s mouth, stepping down from the stool he’d used to reach the magnificent height. “I’m sorry.” He muttered, gently petting the stallion’s side, skin soft but strong under his touch. “I told them not to put such things on you…”

“If I may…?” Kibum turned, a young mare in the stall beside him gazing at him with an apprehensive look in her eyes. He nodded, encouraging her to continue. “He bit a stable-hand, your Highness; that is why they restrained him so.”

Kibum sighed. “Thank you, Yeri…”

Centaurs were creatures of extraordinary will, the older they were the harder they were to crack. Steads like young Yeri, who were fewer than a hundred years of age, had warmed up faster. It was said to him that this stallion before him, called Minho, was several hundred years of age, raised in a time when creatures like himself were considered myths, seeing how the world had changed and they began to coexist with humans. And he would have seen the horrors of a world that began to use them in the most heinous of ways. Fairies and sprites kept in lanterns, mermaids trapped in glass tanks, centaurs used as slaves to be ridden by humans.

Kibum hadn’t been born when that world had come to be, he’d been raised in the aftermath, had ridden centaurs all his life, made conversation with the fairy kept in the lantern of his room. He loved the creatures he was forced to treat as his slaves, tried to give them the best he could. Many appreciated his kindness, gave him respect he didn’t deserve, this one though… he’d arrived only ten years ago, before Kibum had been crowned King.

He was too old to be swayed by a sugar cube from the hand of a teenager, filled with a hatred and rage that could rival the most powerful of storms.

Sighing again, Kibum lowered his head, daringly leaning into the centaur before him, hands on the sturdy waist. “I know I can’t give you your freedom, even if I know that it’s the only thing you want… I just… I only want to be friends.”

The centaur’s stomach shifted as he scoffed and Kibum looked up, stunned by the way the stallion gave him an amused smirk, his eyes hard and unmoved. He leaned down to face the King properly, hooves hitting the ground in anger. “If that is what you want, then you’re nothing more than an ignorant fool.”