was muttering to himself about the inefficiency of Norfolk's stable staff when the groom finally came, rather breathless and mussed, pulling his forelock and apologizing for taking so long. "The devil got into this 'un for a couple o' minutes," he said, gesturing at Miralys with his head. "Wouldn't let me tighten the girth. And like you warned me, m'lord, wouldn't let me near 'is head to check 'is bit. Reared right up and threatened me with 'is 'ooves. Bit of an 'ellion, ain't he?"
"Yes," Denoriel agreed, smiling, "but what a ride. And he knows me and doesn't give me any trouble. Won't let anyone else ride him either, so I don't need to worry about having him stolen."
Denoriel stepped forward and took the rein from the man's hand. He stroked Miralys's soft nose, with care not to allow his hand to pass through the illusion of the bit with reins attached. The reins were real enough—they had to be for situations like this—but they were attached to a loose noseband that Miralys could discard if necessary.
Naturally Miralys wore no bit. Any head furniture at all had been a matter of considerable negotiation,