A Wager at the Festival
The opening declaration that announced the start of the festival rang out from the academy's central plaza. By special arrangement, the opening address was delivered personally by the Crown Prince himself, who had come to visit the academy. The guests who had received invitations and arrived early were startled by his appearance, then quickly erupted into cheers.
To catch a glimpse of the Crown Prince, a man rarely seen even at the imperial capital, at an academy festival of all places — to them, it was nothing short of a stroke of good fortune.
Having finished a satisfying breakfast, the Crown Prince was flawless in every respect — his gait, his expression, everything. His voice carried across the entire plaza, and at last the curtain rose on the festival proper.
"With Aidan and Logan away, it does feel a bit empty, doesn't it?"
After delivering the opening declaration, the Crown Prince held a brief tea time indoors. Before him, alongside the refreshments, lay the festival schedule. His choice would determine the day's agenda.
"You'll find them at the equestrian grounds, Your Highness."
"Right, that's where I should go. I did promise to cheer them on. When is their event?"
"If you finish your tea and make your way over leisurely, the timing should work out just right."
The riders were at that moment busily preparing for their events — loosening stiff bodies, checking their horses. The royal viewing stand had already been reserved, so there was no need to rush.
"Sir Hayes, shall we make a little wager?"
Without even glancing at the schedule, the Crown Prince abruptly turned to Hayes.
"...A wager, Your Highness?"
By the Crown Prince Lindemann's special order, Hayes was the only member of the Full Moon Knight Order assigned to his close escort. When she looked back at him with a puzzled expression, he made his proposal.
"As to who will win the obstacle race. I hear the students bet money on things like that among themselves."
"Are you saying you would wager money as well, Your Highness?"
"Haha, nothing of the sort. Whoever guesses the winner correctly gets to have a wish granted. Let's make it that."
A wish granted?
Bayul flinched in surprise, though he did his best not to show it. When he had faced the Crown Prince at the palace before, he had already gathered, to some degree, that the man held feelings for Sir Hayes. He just hadn't expected him to be this brazen about revealing them.
Hey! Is the Crown Prince seriously flirting with Sir Hayes right now?
Eli stared at Bayul as if he found the whole thing absurd. Quinn, for her part, quietly savored her tea, indifferent to it all.
Let's just sit here and say nothing.
Bayul shook his head slightly, signaling with a glance. This was no time to interfere. Playing ignorant and staying put was the best possible move.
"Your Highness, forgive me, but that is a bit—"
"Rest assured, I won't demand anything strange as my wish."
"That is not what concerns me. Only, what you just said sounds as though you're quite confident you'll win this wager, Your Highness."
Flustered as she was by the proposal, something in Hayes's tone had subtly shifted. She was a knight — one who had clawed her way into the Full Moon Knight Order through grueling effort. A competitive streak, a hatred of losing at anything, lived in her as well.
"My, it seems I've struck a chord with your fighting spirit."
"Will you grant whatever wish I make?"
"Of course."
Though he could well guess the intent behind Hayes's question, the Crown Prince pressed on without a hint of concern.
"Then I'll take that as your acceptance. I'll be betting on Aidan."
Oho, not bad.
Even Eli would have bet on Aidan without hesitation. The boy, newly awakened as a Beast Tamer, was in peak condition these days. Logan and Lanasa — his fierce rivals since the start of the semester — were still very much in the running, but when it came to riding rather than swordsmanship, Aidan had the clearer edge.
"Then I'll choose Lanasa."
"Lanasa?"
At the unfamiliar name, the Crown Prince tilted his head, and Hayes explained.
"She's a girl who reminds me of myself in my younger days. If my instincts are right, Lanasa will take the championship."
"Reminds you of yourself, Sir Hayes? Now I find myself suddenly curious — about your younger days as well."
Crown Prince Lindemann's eyes as he looked at Hayes took on a deep, lingering light.
"Lanasa was one of the first-year delegation that came to congratulate you on your birthday, Your Highness. A girl with strawberry-blonde hair. Do you not remember her?"
Rai!
Bayul had warned him to sit still, and yet Eli just had to butt in — at precisely the moment he absolutely must not.
"I thought you'd be disappointed if Lanasa learned she'd been forgotten, so I thought I'd mention it."
Eli added this boldly, meeting the Crown Prince's gaze without flinching.
"...I remember the delegation. I simply didn't know her name."
"Her nickname is the Ice Goddess. Top student of the Knight Department alongside Aidan, the pride of the female students, and held in high regard by the professors besides. It seems you have a good eye for people, Sir Hayes."
Out of habit, Eli winked and flashed Hayes a radiant smile. That picture-perfect smile briefly stole even the Crown Prince's gaze, and he was a man.
"I believe it's time we set off."
Somehow or other, the Crown Prince's mood had soured. He drained the rest of his tea in one gulp and rose hastily to his feet.
It did feel slightly early to be leaving, but Bayul did not try to stop him. In an atmosphere like this, he judged, moving along sooner was the wiser course.
By the time Bayul escorted the Crown Prince to the grounds, the preparations were indeed unfinished, exactly as expected. Even so, the stands were already packed shoulder to shoulder, without a single empty seat to be seen.
The Crown Prince's seat was the best in the house, shaded by a canopy against the scorching sun. The moment they appeared, every gaze in the stands converged on them at once. The eyes of the escorting knights, ever vigilant for any sudden incident, flashed sharply. There was a subtle new agility in their movements, a heightened sharpness compared to before.
"Bayul, over there!"
Oh — Rita!
He would have missed her entirely if not for Quinn. Only then did he spot Rita across the stands, waving her arm frantically at the sight of him.
She was dressed rather awkwardly in a delicate floral dress, but seeing that familiar face filled him with warmth. It was a shame he couldn't wave back at her.
True to her word, the spirits had gathered around Rita. Spinel hovered in the air, bowing at the waist toward Bayul in greeting, while Innocent and Tempesta stood with their arms crossed, warily scanning their surroundings. Shame, presumably, was somewhere underground.
I'll come by and visit when I get a chance.
Muttering words Rita could never hear, Bayul took his seat beside the Crown Prince.
"On the way here I noticed each dormitory has opened its own restaurant. Let's have lunch at one of those today."
"Will that be acceptable, when the food is not prepared by professional chefs?"
"Of course it is. I intend to try everything the festival has to offer."
The whole point of this visit was to experience every last bit of academy romance he had only ever dreamed of, and then return home. He lived in the dormitories himself, after all — what could he possibly not handle? Even if the food turned out terrible, he would gladly eat it.
"Looks like the events are about to begin."
While they chatted, the time had slipped away. The announcer and the judging panel began to take their places one by one. Professor Janett was among them.
The races opened with the sprints and the flat racing. Thanks to Professor Janett's insistence, this was the very event Bayul had nearly been entered into. At the announcer's signal, the horses shot forward at frightening speed. The spectators screamed themselves hoarse, each cheering for their own pick.
The moment the first rider crossed the finish line, shouts of triumph and groans of bitter disappointment erupted from every direction. The riders who'd been pushed down the rankings wore faces on the verge of tears. To be eliminated in the very preliminary round — how devastating that must be. With the chess tournament looming ahead of him, Bayul found he could understand the feeling, at least a little.
After the flat racing came the obstacle course — the event his friends had been waiting for with bated breath. And by some miracle, the first rider of the first preliminary group was Aidan. He entered the arena proudly, astride Redmane.
"Go, Aidan! You've got this!"
From somewhere in the stands came a voice cheering him on. Bayul scanned the area and spotted Schubik a short distance away, screaming as though he were wrenching the words out of his own gut. He had clearly bet money on Aidan.
Though outwardly maintaining his composure, Crown Prince Lindemann felt exactly the same as Schubik. He watched the boy intently, wishing with all his heart that Aidan would win.
"Begin!"
The signal fell. Aidan's upright posture dropped low, and horse and rider sprang forward like something loosed from a bow.
"Wooooah!"
Aidan was like a single bird in flight. He soared as though he and Redmane had become one body. Before every high, daunting obstacle, he showed not a moment's hesitation. Even someone who knew nothing of riding could feel it plainly — his skill was anything but ordinary.
"Aaaah!"
Gasp after gasp of admiration rippled through the crowd. The Crown Prince, too, looked visibly astonished — evidently he hadn't known Aidan was this good. Aidan was flawless in every respect, without a single wasted motion.
"That boy can certainly ride, can't he? But Lanasa won't be far behind."
Just as Eli tossed out the teasing remark, Aidan's run finally came to an end. The instant he cleared the final obstacle, thunderous applause came pouring down. A single ride had been enough to captivate the entire crowd. Whoever rode next was in for an unlucky draw.
"Sir Hayes — is that girl Lanasa, by any chance?"
By unlucky coincidence, the very next slot belonged to Lanasa. One might have expected her to wilt under the charged heat of the crowd, but she held her poker face and stepped up to the starting line.
Oh no—
And then Bayul saw him — Priest Wagner, over in the stands across the field. Dressed in his vestments, the priest kept glancing in every direction, as if searching for someone. He and Rita were barely a few meters apart.
Aargh, no no no!
Lanasa's run began. But Bayul couldn't focus on the race at all. Every nerve in his body was stretched toward the opposite stands, toward Wagner and Rita.
If Aidan had been a bird in flight, Lanasa was an elegant cat. Her long strawberry-blonde hair streaming behind her as she cleared jump after jump in style — the sight was striking indeed.
Her riding was rock-steady, yet it also carried something that seized the eye and refused to let go, an aura of quiet domination. Her skill was in no way inferior to Aidan's.
Innocent! Tempesta!
Bayul was burning up inside. The distance between Rita and Priest Wagner kept shrinking. But with nothing he could do from where he sat, all he could do was cry the spirits' names in silent desperation.
Whoooosh!
That was when a sudden wind came tearing through. A violent gale swept across the opposite stands, whipping at people's clothes and hair.
"Oh no, my scarf!"
In the chaos, a woman's scarf was swept up by the wind and flung out over the arena. Its owner scrambled to grab for it, but it was no use. The crimson scarf drifted through the air like something lost and wandering — and of all places, it drifted straight into Lanasa's path.
"Aaaaah!"
Lanasa, naturally, was thrown into confusion, and her panic rippled straight into her horse.
Not only that. The stands erupted into a din over the completely unexpected turn of events.
—Uheheh! How's that for skill?
Tempesta hung in midair, gazing down at the ground below with a look of deep satisfaction. The arena had grown somewhat chaotic, sure — but the goal had been accomplished. Priest Wagner's footsteps had stopped.
Phew, thank goodness.
It was the moment Bayul allowed himself a breath of relief amid the confusion.
Huh? That man is—?
There was a man standing right beside Priest Wagner.
According to Spinel, the man who had made a contract with a demon. The same man Bayul had crossed paths with once before, at the Temple of Despair. And if Bayul's eyes were not deceiving him, the man was not looking out at the arena where the scarf fluttered — he was looking straight this way.