Chapter 450: Tiny Horseshoes

The clearing had become a small celebration of its own.

Centaurs compared their horseshoes, turning their hooves this way and that, arguing playfully over whose looked best.

The little ones had declared a competition—"Best Hooves in the Village"—and were busy awarding themselves points for increasingly absurd reasons.

"I have the shiniest ones!"

"I have the clickiest ones!"

"I have the most symmetrical nail holes!"

"That’s not even a real category!"

"It is now!"

But eventually, a new realization began to dawn on the gathered centaurs, one by one.

"Wait." one of the mothers said slowly, looking around. "Did anyone...cook dinner?"

A heavy silence fell over the crowd.

"I was supposed to start the stew." Someone admitted.

"And I was going to bake the bread."

"And I was on vegetable duty."

"And I—" Another centaur’s stomach let out a growl so loud it echoed off the nearby trees. "Oh no. I forgot completely!"

"We all forgot." Claudia said, looking faintly horrified. "We were so excited about the horseshoes that we just...forgot to eat."

"Who forgets to eat?"

"Apparently, all of us."

"Well, I can’t cook now. It’s already so late. It would take hours to get a proper meal ready."

"Wait—I have leftovers!" Someone called out. "Some stew from last night. It’s still good."

"I have leftover gravy!"

"And I’ve got some of that roasted meat from the party!"

"And there’s the fruit preserves!"

Elder Filda, who had been watching the proceedings with quiet amusement, clapped her hands together...

...and blinked in surprise when her horseshoes produced a satisfying clink.

She did it again, clearly delighted, before composing herself.

"Then it’s settled." She announced. "We’ll have a leftover dinner. Everyone bring what you have to the main square. We’ll feast on whatever remains."

And that was exactly what they did.

Within the hour, a bonfire had been lit in the open square before Poppy’s castle, and the centaurs had assembled a sprawling, mismatched feast of leftovers.

Mattresses and cushions were dragged out. Plates were passed around.

Mothers acted as chaperones, doling out portions of this and that, and the scent of reheated stew and warm bread filled the night air.

Also present were Poppy and Thea, who had emerged from the castle at last and Thea, of course, already had her shoes on. Poppy had not stopped staring at them since she sat down.

"They’re so shiny." She said. "Look how shiny they are, Thea. They look so beautiful on your hooves."

"Thank you, my lady." Thea said, and kept eating.

"Does it hurt? Do the nails go deep inside?"

"No, my lady."

"But there are nails in your feet—"

"Hooves, my lady. And no, I can’t feel them. It’s rather like trimming one’s nails."

Poppy did not look convinced. She was still circling Thea, poking experimentally at one of the horseshoes, when a familiar voice spoke up from behind her.

"Oh, princess? Since you’re so interested in Thea’s shoes...would you like some horseshoes of your own?"

Poppy whipped around with a shriek. "Hero!"

Luca was standing there, a plate of food in one hand, looking the picture of innocence. Poppy scrambled backward, hiding behind Thea’s legs.

"Don’t you come any closer!" She squeaked. "I don’t want your horseshoes! I’m a unicorn! Unicorns don’t need horseshoes! Our hooves are already strong! And—and look!"

She gestured frantically at herself.

"I have a human form too! If I put on horseshoes and then turn into a human, the nails would stab through my human feet! It’s dangerous! It’s barbaric!"

"My lady." Thea sighed. "The Hero isn’t actually going to give you horseshoes. He’s just teasing you."

But to Thea’s visible surprise, Luca shook his head.

"Actually, I’m not joking at all. I made some horseshoes just for you, Poppy."

The color drained from Poppy’s face. "See? See?!" She pointed at Luca with a trembling finger. "I told you! He wants to punish me! He wants to bully me!" She latched onto Thea. "Save me, Thea! Save me!"

The other centaurs exchanged uneasy glances.

Even they had to admit it seemed strange, Luca forcing horseshoes on Poppy, who clearly didn’t need them...

Luca, for his part, was laughing so hard he nearly dropped his plate.

"Okay, okay, settle down, princess. I’m not putting anything on your feet." He reached into his pocket. "Come here. I’ll show you."

She was still scared—but after everything Luca had done for the village, she trusted him.

She shuffled forward.

"What is it?"

Luca reached around her neck, and she flinched.

But when he pulled his hands away, she heard a clinking sound near her chest.

She looked down and gasped.

"This is..."

It was a necklace.

A thin, braided cord, silvery-white and soft, made from strands of Sigrid’s tail hair, donated without complaint and at the very end of it, hanging just above her chest, were two tiny horseshoes linked together.

Not real horseshoes. They were only the size of rings. Small enough that the holes through them made a pattern that looked almost like decoration.

Luca smiled at her reaction before adding,

"I figured that with your personality, you’d feel left out if everyone had horseshoes except you. So I made these."

He flicked the tiny horseshoes gently.

"These actually took more effort than the normal ones. I had to be so careful with every movement. But if you like it, it was worth it."

He looked at her carefully.

"So...do you like it?"

Poppy touched the necklace, moving it between her fingers.

Her voice came out in a whisper.

"I love it."

Then her head snapped up and her whole face lit like a festival lantern.

"I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT SO MUCH!"

And she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him so hard her horn nearly took out his ear.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! It’s so cute and it’s so small and I’m going to wear it forever!"

"Watch the horn—"

"Look, look, Thea!" She was off before he’d finished the sentence, sprinting across the yard.

"Look! Look at how pretty it is! And look—I have the same number of holes as you! They’re just smaller!"

Thea smiled warmly. "Yes, my lady. They’re adorable."

Poppy was already gone, bouncing over to the nearest centaur.

"Look at this, Moona! Look what the Hero made for me!"

And then to another. And another. She made a full circuit of the entire gathering, showing off her necklace to every single centaur, her excitement growing with each compliment. By the time she finally made it back, she was practically glowing.

She grabbed Luca’s hand and dragged him toward a fallen log near the fire.

"Sit next to me." She commanded, plopping herself down. "For making me such a beautiful necklace, I grant you the honor of sitting beside me while we eat!"

"Truly an honor, my lady." Luca said, settling down beside her.

Poppy considered for a moment, then brightened.

"Would you like to feed me my meal as well?"

Luca’s lips twitched. "I thought you were old enough to feed yourself."

"I am!" She said quickly. "I’m very old and mature. But since you’re offering..." She gave him an expectant look.

"Did I offer?"

"You were about to. So, yes, go ahead and feed me, Hero. I’ll simply think of it as showing mercy and humility to my subjects."

Luca shook his head, grinning, and picked up a spoon. Poppy opened her mouth obligingly, accepting each bite with regal satisfaction, one hand never leaving the tiny horseshoes at her neck.

Across the fire, Mavis watched the scene, and despite herself, she smiled.

For all her rational mind and her obsession with efficiency and optimization, even she couldn’t deny that the sight of her tiny queen being hand-fed by a Hero was, well...adorable.

She was just lifting a spoonful of stew to her own mouth when a soft voice came from behind her.

"You did really well today, Mavis..."

She froze, the spoon hovering in midair. That voice. She’d know it anywhere.

"I’m proud of you...."

And by the time she turned around, Sigrid was already gone, vanishing into the crowd as if she’d never been there at all.

Mavis stared after her for a long moment. Then, slowly, she let out a breath and turned back to her stew, a small, private smile tugging at her lips.

Her sister had said she was proud of her.

And despite the fights and harsh words, that meant something. More than Mavis would ever admit out loud.

—

The meal wound down slowly, the fire crackling low, and one by one the centaurs began to drift off.

Or rather, Luca assumed they would drift off. That was what normal people did after a long day, a good meal, and a warm fire.

But centaurs, it turned out, were not normal people.

Luca watched, baffled, as a group of mothers gathered up the dirty dishes and immediately began carting them toward a nearby pond, rolling up their sleeves to wash them.

"Whoa, whoa." He said, hurrying over. "What are you doing? It’s the middle of the night!"

"Washing the dishes." One of them said, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You can do that tomorrow!"

But she shook her head firmly. "If we leave them, the food will stick. It’s much harder to clean them later."

"I’m telling you, soaking works. You just—"

"Hero." Another mother interrupted gently. "We’ve always washed the dishes right after eating. It would feel wrong to leave them."

Luca opened his mouth to argue, but the look on their faces stopped him.

This wasn’t laziness or stubbornness. This was routine. Deeply, deeply ingrained routine.

He turned, and his confusion only grew.

Another group of centaurs was hauling water from the pond, filling large wooden buckets.

"And what are you doing?"

"We forgot to bring in water today." One of them explained. "With all the excitement."

"So bring it in tomorrow! It’s the same water!"

"We can’t." She said, as if explaining something very simple. "A duty missed isn’t a duty. It’s a debt." She smiled. "If I don’t do it tonight I’ll lie awake thinking about it. Honestly, it’s easier to just carry the water."

Luca stared at her. Then he looked toward the training ground, where Riley and her friends had somehow found the energy to start sparring again.

"Don’t tell me." He said wearily. "You have to train, and it has to be today."

Riley nodded, not breaking her stance. "We missed our training earlier. We can’t just skip it."

"Why not? Double up tomorrow!"

But Riley shook her head. "Training must be done the same day. If we skip today, we’ll want to skip again tomorrow. And the day after. It’s a slippery slope."

"A slippery slope of sleeping in—"

"It’s about discipline, Hero."

Luca looked around at the village, at all the centaurs who were cheerfully, stubbornly completing the chores they’d abandoned earlier that day, and he let out a long, defeated sigh.

Mavis appeared at his side, her arms full of tools.

"Don’t bother." She said, reading his expression. "They’re always like this."

"Always?"

"Always." She shifted the tools in her arms. "They’re stubborn to the very end. Rigid in their ways. Once they make a plan, they stick to it for life. They won’t budge, not even for their own comfort." She made a face. "It’s infuriating."

Luca watched the village, his mind already turning.

All this time, he’d thought of the centaurs as easygoing and carefree—certainly more relaxed than what his wives had said back home.

But he was beginning to realize that underneath the surface, they were as rigid and traditional as ever.

Every virtue, every value, every tiny routine, clung to with an iron grip.

And in some ways, that was admirable. Their discipline was genuinely impressive.

But it was also...dangerous.

He could see a hundred scenarios where that inflexibility would get them killed on a battlefield, where their refusal to adapt would cost them everything.

Something had to change.

And suddenly, he had an idea. A wonderful, terrible idea.

He turned to Mavis, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face.

"Mavis." He said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "How would you like to do something rather interesting tomorrow?"

Mavis’s ears perked up. There was a glint in her eyes that matched his own.

"What kind of something?"

"Something that might just change their values and traditions forever." He paused, letting the words hang in the air. "Make them a little more...human."

Mavis studied him for a long moment. The look on his face made it perfectly clear that he was up to no good.

Which was exactly what she wanted to hear.

"Count me in, dummy hero." She bumped his arm with her elbow. "Whatever it is, I want in."

Luca turned back to the village, watching the centaurs bustle about in their endless, rigid routines.

Tomorrow, he would corrupt them.

And it would be glorious.