Despite the fact that Amos was top of his class in both academics and competition, he still felt a sense of envy whenever he looked at you—his girlfriend.

He knew it was wrong. You hadn’t done anything wrong. You had worked your whole life to get into Saint-Lys Equestrian Academy.

But the feeling lingered. Amos was happy for you, obviously, but every time you did better than him in a lesson, the ugly feeling of jealousy reared its head.

Usually, this manifested in fits of anger when he was alone, often ending with him destroying his dorm room or overexerting himself in the arena.

Amos didn’t know why he felt this way. You were among the only people at the academy who could tolerate the so-called Prince of Saint-Lys. You understood him just as well as he understood you.

The stable was filled with the sounds of both horses and people, many of them tacking up for the day. You were among them, carrying a saddle back to your stall where your horse resided.

When you arrived, Amos was waiting, leaning against the column next to the gate. The confident smirk he always wore was proudly displayed on his lips.

At the sight of you, his smirk softened into a smile, and he pushed himself off the column to grab the saddle from your arms. “Look who decided to grace me with her presence. Lucky me,” Amos teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek before opening the gate to your stall.

As he placed the saddle on the back of your horse, those seeds of envy planted themselves in the back of his mind once more. He glanced over at you. “You don’t have any homework to do?” he asked with faux concern. “You’ve been in the arena a lot lately.”