The stables were a place of refuge for young Lady Newbury, it had always been that way. Even when Julian took his tumble from his high steed, she had still seen beauty in the great horses that rested within her father’s stables. Lady Isobel enjoyed the docile eyes of a broodmare just as much as she loved the spirit of a young colt. Each and every beat appealed to her in their own special way. It wasn’t that she rode them often, perhaps weekly just to take a gander at the country that surrounded her father’s fiefdom, Isobel just loved them. Plain and simple as that. This, however, she tended not to allow to be public information. For, Isobel had quite the reputation for being a bit chilly, and allowing girlish weaknesses to enter her mind were embarrassments to they young woman.

When it came to horses, Isobel was rather fearless. They were something she enjoyed to waste her time with. Recently, a young stallion had been broken, and the young Newbury daughter was finding it hard to not be interested in his progress. If the time came when her father had to ride out into battle once more, Isobel knew it was necessary that he had a steady stream of sturdy steeds to aid his battle. If there was a battle. But Isobel knew better than that, it was more of a matter of when and where. There was only a small amount of time until the war was absolutely declared, if it hadn’t been already. Then, she’d have the entire fiefdom to herself, which Isobel found quite disturbing. At sixteen years old, she would be the lady of the household, the sole defender if it came down to it. Unless Julian was to stay there…then she’d just be the annoying pest she already was to him. It wasn’t that she didn’t adore her siblings, just that her personality often clashed with their own.

Lady Isobel sauntered out into the courtyard, the early morning dew soaking the hem of her burgundy gown. It was a simply cut dress, but made finely and of excellent material. In the center of the courtyard, stood a particularly large colt. He was too young for breeding, but too old to be with the rest of the yearlings. Parts of his rump were pink from the whip that touched down on him when he needed disciplining. Isobel raised an eyebrow at the serf that held him steady, she wasn’t one for cruelty, but she knew that obedience came from fear. And after fear came respect, and then love. Balefully, the horse eyed her as she floated over to him, her hand reaching out to run it down his neck.

She was pleased to say the least. He was a fine beast by all means. Or, at least by her standards. Lady Isobel then turned her head away from the horse, to survey the courtyard. She was in the mood for a ride, or perhaps even some company. It had been awhile since she last spoke to someone that actually might listen to her. After all, Lord Cullen was busy with his warfare, and probably didn’t like his daughter being interested in it either, and Lord Julian was off courting Lady Elena Lawley, so what was a girl to do around an almost empty fiefdom? A bit of movement caught the corner of her eye. Without even checking to see who it was Isobel said, "Lovely day, isn't it?”