Robena and Apricot are in this moment a single creature, bonded by the perfect harmony that unites the most legendary of riders. Together they stare in wistful, forlorn longing at the festival - at the dancers, at the bar, but most yearningly at the little store that sells honey-dipped apples. It is the kind of stare that does indeed merit some ridiculously overwritten commentary about tears, eyelashes and the contemplation of injustice. 

But they have a duty. And so the sweet-toothed duo give a synchronized sigh before Robena mutters some sound of acknowledgement and leads her horse away to re-unite with Constance.