“So…Gillifer, is it?” Hugo asked, confused. The beat of the horse’s hooves jostled him up and down on the country road.

“Call me Gilly,” the horse said.

“Truthfully, I still do think this a bit unusual. After all, horses don’t usually talk.”

“What? You think I’m a horse!” Gilly whinnied indignantly.

“Ah, erm…equine?” said Hugo, nearly thrown off Gilly’s back.

“Oh, I’m a unicorn, you dolt! And here I was thinking kings were smart,” she muttered.

“Well…where’s the horn?”

“There is no bloody horn! Barely any unicorns have horns anymore, all the Magic traders took them for potions. Useless, they are, in potionmaking, unless you combine them with just the right amount of paprika. It explodes, you see. Have no idea why. Either way, there’s no reason you would want one, but there they go, sawing ‘em off!”

“But—” Hugo started, then stopped as Gilly shot him a look.

Hugo sat in confused silence as Gilly clopped along.