Anya snorted in surprise. There were two foals! One was a pure black filly; clearly, that was Sassy. But the other was a bright white colt. Anya nosed the colt curiously. She had some magic still, and silently used it to determine where the colt had come from. Her eyes widened. Sassy had been pregnant? A stallion must have found her before Anya did.
Anya licked her twin foals clean, her heart swelling with maternal love and affection. This would surely complicate her relationship with the Prince once he was himself again, but right now, it made things easier.
“Sassy?” Anya nickered softly. The filly opened her eyes and nodded.
“Yes, Anya. I am here.” Sassy struggled to her feet. She looked at the colt, who was also getting up. “Who is he?”
“The foal you were pregnant with before you used the amulet.”
“Oh.” Sassy sniffed the colt, who sniffed her as well. “Does that make him my son or my brother?”
“Right now, you are twins and I am your mother,” Anya said firmly. She got to her feet. “Now, both of you must feed.” The filly and colt obediently wobbled over to Anya. They ducked their heads underneath her on opposite sides, each latching onto a teat. Anya jerked slightly from the feeling, but soon felt a feeling of contentment wash over her.
Meanwhile, the royalists were discussing the new family of three. Anya listened closely. The men were pleased with the pedigree of the foals and the mother, even viewing the fact Anya gave birth to twins as a sign of good fortune. To Anya’s displeasure, the men were intent on giving the horses names of their own. Anya was now to be called Morningstar, Sassy was to be called Ebony, and the colt was Ivory. As the men continued to gush over how fine the mare and her foals were, however, the newly christened Morningstar began to worry. Did they intend on separating the three?