It had been a while since Booker had felt anything besides the boredom and ennui of depression, and the sweet rush of rage felt liberating. This horny slip of a stallion had managed to insult his loyalty to Day, his competence, and reduced him to a randy loser trying to show off for a mare.
Booker glanced at Bex, too angry to be embarrassed to suddenly realize it was the regent. He charged Silas.
Bulling into the bastard and knocking him off his feet was immensely satisfying. They fenced for a moment, Booker shoving Silas to one side before tearing across his ribs with a vicious bite.
"Pardon me, Lady Regent," Booker said, panting. "But if you let little shits like this mock the court, you let them mock the horses that died so you could be regent. Good horses I saw die. Frankly if you're capable of doin' this yourself you shouldn't have let me beat you to the punch.
"Now," he said, glaring up at Silas. "You gonna apologize, or do I need to drag you to the Colosseum? Kick your ass in front of hundreds of horses 'stead of just the Lady Regent?"
@
@SILAS
