“When you’ve grown up as a social outcast with a tendency to go a little too far with your magic, people don’t have the nicest opinion of you,” I said, toying with a small string hanging from the pommel of the saddle. What had begun as self-deprecating humor now felt more real. More raw. I wasn’t sure why I was sharing this with him. It was different, not being able to see his face or that scowl that said he was waiting for me to fail.
