People, Not Horses
Mikhail, who had briefly stepped away while the two enjoyed their dart game, had returned to their side before they knew it. “It’s about time for dinner. If it’s all right with you, may I treat you both?” he asked politely.
Clement answered as if he had been waiting for the invitation. “Of course! I was getting hungry anyway, so this is perfect.”
Liliana had no particular reason to refuse either. In fact, she didn’t want to. If the cocktails here were this excellent, the food was bound to exceed expectations as well.
The restaurant Mikhail led them to was a vast space occupying an entire floor of the resort building. Its floor-to-ceiling glass walls offered a breathtaking view of the night scenery and the dark sea of the Far East Maritime Province Tourism Special Zone. Under soft lighting, the neatly arranged tables and chairs looked like works of art in their own right.
The moment the two sat down, a middle-aged man in a pristine white chef’s coat hurried over and bowed respectfully before them. He appeared to be the head chef overseeing the kitchen of this enormous restaurant.
“It is an honor to meet you for the first time, Your Highness! And Saintess! I am infinitely grateful for your esteemed presence!” His voice trembled slightly with tension.
Liliana could clearly see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and the faint twitching of his fingertips. It was understandable. The pressure of serving the Second Prince, widely regarded as the top candidate for the next emperor, and the Empire’s sole Saintess was unimaginable.
Just then, Mikhail spoke in a low voice. “Relax. These are the Duke of Benevolence and the Saintess.” He gestured toward Clement and Liliana with his chin. “They’re so benevolent that unless you spit in the food or poison it, they’ll forgive most mistakes with a smile.”
“Pardon?” The chef’s face turned deathly pale.
Liliana and Clement both stared at Mikhail in disbelief.
“So don’t be too nervous,” Mikhail continued calmly, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Just focus on my meal. You know how picky I am, right?”
For a brief moment, the air in the restaurant froze. Then—
“Pfft!” A laugh burst from the chef’s mouth before he could stop it. He quickly covered his lips with his hand, but the laughter wouldn’t cease. “I-I’m so sorry, Your Highness!” He shook his shoulders desperately trying to suppress his laughter while repeatedly bowing his head. Yet his face no longer showed any trace of tension—only a relaxed smile mixed with amusement and relief.
“I’ll do my absolute best, Your Highness!” The chef answered energetically once more before heading back to the kitchen with light steps.
Liliana watched the scene in silence. What a peculiar man. She had to revise her assessment of Mikhail once again. He seemed to lack any sense of authority whatsoever. Or perhaps, to him, his status as royalty or his title as Grand Duke was nothing more than a useful toy—something to tease others with or, like now, to ease someone’s tension. The way he treated even his own bloodline so lightly…
He’s a kind of human I’ve never encountered before. At the very least, he was different from all the hypocritical nobles and corrupt priests she had met until now.
While the meal was being prepared, the three chatted while admiring the night view outside the window.
“By the way, would it be all right to ask you to offer a blessing prayer at the grand opening event in a few days, Saintess?” Mikhail asked.
“Yes, of course,” Liliana nodded. After all, she had come to repay the debt she owed Clement, so this much was only natural.
“This Tourism Special Zone is truly remarkable, Misha,” Clement said with genuine admiration. “Aside from being a bit far from the capital, it’s better than any resort in the Empire.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Brother,” Mikhail replied. “Still, the works of the artists I’ve sponsored can be seen in the capital anytime, so if it’s difficult for you to visit, please enjoy those instead.” He paused for a moment and flashed Clement a playful smile. “Ah, by the way, have you seen the latest revised edition of Katarina and Henriette? I sponsored that one.”
“Oh! That one!” Clement’s face lit up. “I watched it with Lady Liliana the other day! It was truly an excellent work.” He continued with a genuinely moved expression. “Especially the setting in this revised version where Katarina and Henriette are actually in love with each other—it left quite an impression. In the final scene where they end up hating each other and meet a tragic end due to their forbidden love and external pressures, I couldn’t help but shed tears.”
Clement’s eyes seemed to grow moist. “It’s certainly much more dramatic and entertaining than before the revision, though some say it’s a bit too provocative.”
Provocative, my foot. Liliana snorted inwardly. She recalled the play she had seen at the theater in the capital not long ago—the poignant and tragic love story between two women. It had certainly been entertaining. But provocative? Liliana couldn’t accept that. Compared to the lewd moans of those bitches she heard every night from the next room at the convent, or the curly hairs stuck to their lips when she ran into them in the morning while going to wash her face, this play felt downright wholesome and pure.
Ah. As her thoughts reached that point, Liliana’s face flushed hot without her realizing it.
“Ahem, ahem!” She hurriedly cleared her throat and cooled her burning cheeks. The one who had brought up this topic was clearly that scoundrel’s deliberate provocation. As proof, Mikhail was looking at her with a thoroughly amused smile. It was truly infuriating. Liliana clenched her fists tightly under the table where no one could see.
While she was fuming, the conversation between Clement and Mikhail had already moved on to another topic.
“Come to think of it, my horse Thunderbolt won at this Imperial Derby!” Clement boasted like a child. “Really? Congratulations, Brother,” Mikhail replied. “I quite enjoy horse racing myself.”
“You do? Haha! Then I’ll send you a few good stallions!” Clement offered readily.
But Mikhail shook his head. “No need. Watching horses run is impressive and pleasant to look at, but I don’t want to raise them myself.” A mischievous smile appeared on his lips once more. “I prefer watching the crowds go wild betting at the racetrack.”
The atmosphere subtly sank for a moment. Liliana clicked her tongue inwardly. It’s hard to believe this man was once called the Duke of Benevolence. Was that why he had caused the gacha incident and created that thing called Toto, where people bet on the Texas Hold’em tournament players? She couldn’t tell. Still…
It’s better than the capital’s nobles constantly committing adultery and producing illegitimate children. Then again, thinking about it… Lately, there were rampant rumors about him hanging around with a merchant named Laura Valeriano and a bureaucrat named Josepina Jugashvili. They were probably both his mistresses. No, it was certain. There was no way this scoundrel would be keeping two such beautiful women around without doing anything.
In the end, he’s just another one of those noble lords. But this consistently infuriating attitude of his seemed slightly better than the other hypocrites. Though not as much as Clement.
On the other hand, Clement wore a somewhat bitter smile. He was probably recalling the pure Mikhail from when Alexandra had still been alive.
“I see,” Clement murmured quietly. He gazed silently at the night view outside the window for a moment before suddenly pointing at a building with his finger and asking Mikhail, “Misha.” There was a hint of regret in his voice. “That looks just like a racetrack, but it’s a bit small.”
At his words, Liliana’s gaze also turned toward it. An oval track and spectator stands. It was clearly a racetrack. But compared to the one in the capital, it looked like a child’s toy—far too small.
“Ah, that?” Mikhail said, turning to look. “It’s just a rather special racetrack.”
A special racetrack? Liliana repeated his words in her mind. A racetrack is a racetrack—what could be so special about it? As if reading her question, Mikhail continued.
“Since what’s running isn’t horses, there’s no need for it to be big.”
At those words, Liliana tilted her head. If it wasn’t horses, then what exactly was running? “Then are they racing dogs?” she asked. Dog racing was the next most common form of gambling after horse racing. Of course, it was considered a notch below the refined hobby of horse racing that nobles enjoyed, but given that the owner of this place was Mikhail, it seemed plausible enough. After all, hosting horse races required connections between horse owners.
“No. People run,” Mikhail answered with a bright smile.
For a moment, Liliana couldn’t comprehend what she had just heard. Her mind went completely blank.
“What did you say?” An incredulous sound escaped her lips without her realizing it. People. He was making people run? A horrifying image flashed through her mind—pitiful slaves bleeding as they ran, unable to withstand the whipping, while depraved nobles cheered and placed bets on the spectacle. How was this any different from the barbaric gladiatorial matches the Church had once strictly forbidden?
A cold anger surfaced in Liliana’s eyes. Before she knew it, she was glaring at Mikhail. What the hell is this crazy bastard saying in front of the sacred Saintess!
This son of a bitch! Her fists clenched on their own. The urge to gather her divine power and punch that arrogant face surged up to her throat.
“Ah,” Mikhail said calmly, meeting her murderous gaze. “Rest assured. All the athletes are participating voluntarily.”
Voluntarily? Liliana’s mind grew even more confused. What kind of madman would voluntarily participate in such a race? Mikhail seemed to ponder for a moment, resting his chin on his hand, before adding, “Or maybe not running? Anyway.” He shrugged and muttered something incomprehensible.
Liliana could only stand there in a daze. If they weren’t running, then what were they doing? Crawling? She truly couldn’t understand what was going on inside this man’s head.