And They're Off!
It seemed like the red-haired noble had muttered something to himself, but nothing particularly memorable stuck with me. To roughly summarize the exchange between Adel and the red-haired noble, it went something like this:
—They say you ride really well.
—Yeah.
—That's all bullshit though, isn't it?
—Screw you.
—Huh? If it bothers you that much, then come at me.
—Bring it?
I don't know. Honestly I was only half paying attention, so it's all fuzzy. My mind was elsewhere.... I still don't understand why he picked a fight with someone who was just quietly minding her own business. I can't comprehend the way those types think at all. And I don't see any reason why I should bother trying.
Anyway, that was how the horse race came about. For something thrown together on short notice, the event had grown surprisingly large. Everyone must have been bored out of their minds. After all, entertainment options in this era are pretty limited. To them, it was probably quite the exciting spectacle.
One week later, we gathered once again at the racetrack. A wide oval track stretched out before us. Long stands ran alongside it. Flags stood near the starting line. Stables held the waiting horses. Members of the imperial family had come to watch too—the First Prince, my other siblings, and even the Empress. The Emperor himself did not appear.
And of course, no horse race would be complete without the gambling. Elena was running the whole thing.
Staff from the Silver Feather Guild stood near the fence, managing boards that listed each participant's name and their odds. Some nobles laughed as they handed over gold coins while others whispered instructions to their servants.
I sat on one side of the stands, munching on snacks. Being at the racetrack didn't change my role. I just had to sit there looking like an idiot, exactly as I always did.
Then a clown in flashy clothes strode out to the center of the track. He wore a feathered hat and spread both arms wide.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Greetings to all the distinguished guests gathered here at the imperial racetrack today!”
Every eye in the stands turned toward him.
“We have ten participants in total! Renowned jockeys from every region, an imperial riding instructor, a skilled horseman from the knight order, and today's main attractions all riding together!”
Applause burst from the stands. The clown shook his body with even more energy, clearly thrilled.
“First participant! Jockey Roman Pike, three-time champion of the southern plains!”
A man on a brown horse raised his hand near the fence. He had the small, sturdy build typical of a professional jockey.
“Second! Assistant Imperial Riding Instructor, Cedric Molt!”
This time a man in imperial uniform stepped forward. His posture was rigidly formal.
“Third! Winner of the Western Hunt, Casel de Rouen!”
A young noble in flashy clothes waved. A few noble ladies in the stands squealed and giggled.
“Fourth! Outstanding mounted combat instructor from the knight order, Brandt!”
He was a tall man with broad shoulders.
“Fifth! Representative of the Eastern Ranch Alliance, Mila Nere!”
Her hair was tied back short and her skin was deeply tanned.
“Sixth! Representative of the Capital Noble Riding Club, Alvin Schert!”
Someone clapped. The applause sounded oddly mechanical.
“Seventh! Professional jockey Derrick Howl, veteran of two previous imperial horse races!”
The stands stirred noticeably. The reaction was different for a true professional.
“Eighth! From the Imperial Guard Cavalry, Jurgen!”
The uniformed man gave a quiet bow from atop his horse.
“Ninth!” The clown raised his voice dramatically.
“One of the challengers who made today's race possible! The young noble with the fiery red mane, Valen de Leohardt!”
The red-haired noble raised his hand. Cheers erupted from one section of the stands—probably supporters from the same faction.
I watched him while chewing my snack. So his name was Valen. I hadn't bothered to remember it before since there was no need.
The redhead rode forward with a confident smirk.
“And finally!” The clown lifted his hand high.
From one side of the grounds, a black horse walked out at a measured pace. It was Adeline. Her silver-gray hair was neatly tied back today. She wore practical black riding clothes that looked easier to move in than her usual attire.
The clown shouted, “The Black Blizzard of the North! The Grand Duchess of Ernheart! Adeline von Ernheart!”
The crowd's reaction was a turbulent mix of curiosity, tension, and guarded wariness.
“Your Highness.”
A soft voice reached me. I turned my head, snack still in my mouth. It was Elena van Laque, head of the Silver Feather Guild. And now a viscountess. No longer merely a commoner merchant leader, she was a rising noble who had received an official title from the Emperor himself in recognition of her contributions to stabilizing imperial finances and securing supplies. In plain terms, she had poured a fortune into the imperial treasury and officially purchased her peerage.
Everyone present surely knew the story. That was probably why the nobles' gazes toward her were so subtly complicated. They couldn't openly complain about her approaching the imperial seating area. After all, the Silver Feather had sponsored today's race, managed the betting boards, and Elena held the nominal rank of viscountess. She had every right to be there. Yet their expressions made it clear they didn't like it. A woman who bought her title with money. A merchant who dared sit so close to the imperial family. Those were the looks directed at her.
Elena took her seat in the VIP box right beside the imperial section, one tier lower.
“Big sis from the guild.”
I deliberately called out in a bright, childish voice. Elena's face stiffened for a split second. A look of pure disgust flickered across it before vanishing.
Don't look at me like that. I'm a person too, you know. It actually stings.
“You're eating quite a lot of snacks today.”
“Yeah. I plan to munch while I watch.”
“A fine idea, Your Highness.”
Elena gave a small smile and leaned slightly toward me.
“By the way, who do you think will win?”
I answered without hesitation. “Adel!”
Elena blinked. “You mean the Grand Duchess?”
“Yeah.”
“There are professional jockeys and former cavalrymen competing. It won't be easy for her to win.”
“Still, I'm betting on Adel.” I didn't waver. “Because I want her to win!”
Elena stared at me with an unreadable expression. She bit her lip lightly, as if trying to hold back laughter.
“Hmm, hmhm~.”
She made a strange little noise and poked my side.
What are you doing?
“I see. So that's what this is about.”
“Huh?”
“This should be very entertaining.”
She means the race, right?
“I think it'll be fun too.”
Elena tapped the odds board with her finger.
“Then I'll place a bet on the Grand Duchess in your name, Your Highness.”
“Okay.”
“How much will you wager?”
I pulled a single candy from my pocket and handed it to her. “Is this enough?”
“If she wins, you'll receive about ten in return.”
The odds were that high? No matter how I looked at it, they were underestimating Adel far too much.
“Then I suppose I'll bet on the Grand Duchess as well.”
“Why?”
“Because now I feel like cheering for her too.”
I tilted my head in confusion.
“Then I'll bet on the Grand Duchess too.”
It was Cayen. He sat down naturally in the seat beside me.
“There will be plenty of talk about this.”
It would be nice if people could simply enjoy the race as a race, but nobles have a special talent for complicating everything. They would read deep meaning into even something this trivial. The Second Prince has bet on the Grand Duchess of the North. To them, that wasn't merely a prediction about who would win a horse race. They would interpret it as the Second Prince openly supporting the North.
“The rumors are already flying regardless. Besides, they're still completely baseless. If I let myself get swept up in nonsense like that, I'll never get anything done.”
“Is that so?” Elena narrowed her eyes. “Yet here you are, cheering for another woman right in front of me. I'm feeling a little jealous.”
Cayen slowly turned to look at her.
“Viscountess Laque.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“We aren't in that kind of relationship.”
“Oh, but we are.” Elena smiled as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “I'm harboring a one-sided crush on you, after all.”
I stopped chewing mid-bite. Wow. What a direct attack.
Cayen abruptly turned his gaze toward the track. “The race is about to begin.”
A perfect escape.
“By the way, Viscountess Laque.”
“Yes?”
“Are you sure you're all right?”
Elena tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
Brother Cayen kept his eyes on the track. “Adeline has been glaring at you this entire time.”
I waved at Adel, who was indeed watching us. Her stern expression instantly melted into a soft, silly smile.
At that moment the clown raised his hand high.
“Participants, proceed to the starting line!”
The ten horses began moving forward at a slow walk. The noise from the stands swelled. Silver Feather staff made their final adjustments to the bets while nobles shouted the names of their chosen riders. The red-haired Valen seemed to be saying something to Adel from beside her. She didn't answer. She simply stared straight ahead.
I clutched the snack in my hand and stared at the starting line. For some reason, tension gripped my fingers. It wasn't as if I were the one running. It wasn't as if I were the one riding. Yet my heart was beating faster all the same.
The clown dropped his hand. A trumpet blast rang out.
And the ten horses exploded forward all at once.