TQV 24

Chapter 24

Duke Charles de Sadi wasn’t exactly obsessed with horseback riding, but he did enjoy it as a hobby.

As such, his enormous stables housed about ten horses—ranging from warhorses and racehorses to those meant for leisurely rides.

As soon as Lenav arrived, he approached a tall black stallion with a splendid mane. The horse’s coat gleamed like a sable’s—truly a fine steed.

“It’s best not to ride Larry carelessly,” Charles warned.

Lenav awkwardly stepped back and asked, “Is that one Your Grace’s favorite?”

Before Charles could answer, the butler standing nearby pointed to another stable and explained,
“Sapphire, the lord’s personal horse, is kept separately under special care.”

“Then why can’t I ride this one?”

“Well… this one is extremely aggressive. It’s dangerous for anyone unfamiliar to ride it.”

Larry had been brought from the Eastern Continent at a hefty price, but he had such a wild temperament that he was difficult to handle. Charles had tried training him several times, but all attempts had failed.

Just as Lenav, looking sheepish, turned to choose another horse—

“If no one’s riding him, then I will.”

Killian, who had already walked around the stables once, now stood before Larry. The moment the horse saw someone approaching, he raised his forelegs and neighed loudly.

“There’s no need to push yourself. If you fall off, it’ll be quite the embarrassment,” Lenav said mockingly.

Then Enoch interjected smoothly,
“And what if Marquis Star ends up winning with that horse? Wouldn’t that be even more embarrassing for you?”

“Haah, Count Bloua, please…”

Lenav was a breath away from saying, “Please just shut up.”

‘Enough of this. I need to deal with that man first.’

Suppressing his irritation, Lenav turned to Enoch.

“By the way, have you chosen a horse yet, Count?”

“Hmm, I thought about it last night, but it just didn’t sit right with me to ride someone else’s horse.”

In truth, horses are incredibly sensitive animals, and allowing someone on their back is a sign of deep trust.

In other words, riding a horse you don’t share a bond with—even if well-trained—can be dangerous.

“Then you can join the young ladies on the terrace and watch from there.”

“Yes, I suppose I shall. Do you think the seat next to Lady Ypère is still available?”

“Haha, who knows.”

“Then I’d best hurry and find out.”

Humming to himself, Enoch walked back toward the castle.

Lenav already felt mentally drained. He trudged back to where the Duke and Killian were standing.

“So, Your Grace will ride Sapphire, I’ll take Valley, and the Marquis… Are you seriously going to ride Larry?”

Killian didn’t respond. Instead, he continued to hold Larry’s gaze, gently placing both hands on the horse’s body as if trying to calm him.

It was almost as if he were speaking through his eyes.

Just as Lenav was about to tell him to give up, something astonishing happened—Larry leaned his head into Killian’s touch and visibly calmed down.

“How intriguing.”

Charles felt a hint of betrayal from Larry, who had never shown affection to a person before. Still, he had to admit Killian’s skill was impressive.

Lenav wouldn’t be able to beat Killian. Not only was he clearly good with horses, but Larry himself was an exceptional steed.

Scowling, Lenav led his chosen horse over.

The three men now mounted their horses and stood at the starting line.

“Wow, the scale of things in the North is something else,” Lenav gushed, seizing another opportunity to flatter.

“A private riding course this large, with such a variety of obstacles!”

“Be careful not to hurt yourself. They’re a lot higher than they look.”

“Don’t worry, Your Grace. I may not be as skilled as you, but I do ride fairly often.”

Lenav shouted confidently.

“Then let’s begin the race. Get ready. One, two—go!”

At the judge’s signal, the three riders took off. At first, they were neck and neck, but Charles began to pull ahead slightly.

Killian and Lenav jostled for second place. Then suddenly, Larry snorted loudly and lunged toward Valley, the horse Lenav was riding.

“Waaah!”

Lenav hadn’t ridden far before he lost his grip on the reins and tumbled off the horse.

“Owwww…”

He was carried back by the attendants while the others rushed down from the viewing area.

“Sir Touché, what happened?” Enoch’s dreaded mouth opened once again.

“To fall off in fright like that—what a disgraceful way to lose!”

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

To make matters worse, Lenav’s body had landed awkwardly across one of the hurdles. The pain was nothing compared to the overwhelming shame. He didn’t even want to open his eyes.

“Look over there!”

Marlene shook Emily’s shoulder and pointed excitedly.

“Your husband is almost neck and neck with the Duke!”

Enoch clapped his hands in awe.
“Amazing! The Marquis is a master horseman!”

Emily stared at Killian, almost entranced. She had always known he was handsome, but the sight of him galloping through the wind, glistening with sweat, made it impossible to look away.

Soon, everyone had forgotten Lenav and focused solely on the race.

The course wasn’t very long, so the winner was decided quickly. From afar, Enoch and Marlene offered words of comfort to Emily.

“Oh dear, Lady Star, what a shame for your husband.”

“But it was an incredible race, Emily.”

Though Charles won, no one thought less of Killian. The fact that he had almost overtaken Charles at the finish line—without ever having worked with Larry before—was proof enough of his skill.

The only loser in the match was Lenav. Enoch approached him again, clearly preparing to speak his mind.

“Sir Touché, let this be a lesson: don’t run your mouth too freely. Just look at the state you’re in.”

“Count…”

Lenav motioned for Enoch to bring his ear closer.

“Do you have something to say?”

Enoch leaned in, and Lenav whispered hoarsely,

“Please… just shut your damn mouth…”

With that, he lost consciousness.

***

Due to his injury, Lenav rested in his room, while the rest gathered for dinner.

“Your Grace,”

The butler approached Charles and quietly whispered something to him.

Everyone looked toward him curiously. After a pause, Charles finally spoke.

“It seems we’ll have one more guest joining us tonight.”

Though not invited by the head of the house, there was one person who could come and go as she pleased—Charles’s mother, the Dowager Duchess Deborah Christine de Sadi.

Unlike Charles, she was very sociable and loved to talk.

“Goodness, I go away on a trip and come back to this? The sun must be rising in the west!”

Wearing a freshly changed dress, she made her way to the table and greeted everyone one by one. She seemed astonished that her unsociable son had invited guests at all.

“Star? I’ve never heard of that family before.”

She tilted her head, eyeing Killian curiously.

If Lenav had been there, he would’ve seized this chance to tear Killian down—but fortunately, he was bedridden.

Killian answered calmly.

“I was granted my title two years ago. It’s no wonder the Dowager hasn’t heard of me.”

“Ah, I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

These days, it wasn’t uncommon for commoners to purchase nobility with their newfound wealth. Though she had once found it hard to accept, her year of traveling had softened her views.

“Well then, let’s all enjoy dinner.”

It would have been nice if that were possible—but the combination of the Dowager and Enoch was beyond imagination.

“Now that I look closely, Lady Star’s face seems familiar.”

The Dowager tapped her chin while scrutinizing Emily.

“I believe we met once at a banquet. My maiden name was Synope,” Emily replied.

“Good heavens, then you’re the young lady my son almost married!”

Everyone had experienced one round of this awkward revelation already, so they managed to maintain their composure this time.

“That’s exactly why we found this gathering so amusing,” someone added.

Still, no matter how often it happened, no one could truly get used to Enoch.

Charles sighed inwardly. He had invited extra people hoping Emily wouldn’t feel uncomfortable—but hadn’t accounted for this kind of unexpected development.

He made a firm mental note: Enoch Bloua was to be excluded from every future guest list.

After an especially exhausting dinner for Charles, Marlene and Emily were coerced into an unwanted tea session with the Dowager, who insisted she needed someone to chat with.

She spoke non-stop, eager to share all the stories from her travels.

“In one country, it was so cold they dressed the chickens in clothes.”

“Oh my, really?”

“But the clothes were too tight, so the chickens cried, ‘Cock-a-doodle-squawk!’”

“Haha…”

Unfortunately, though she loved to talk, the Dowager wasn’t a particularly good storyteller.

“Young Lady Ypère, you look a bit tired. Or am I imagining things?”

Marlene, caught suppressing a yawn, frantically waved her hands.

“Tired? Not at all! The Dowager’s stories are so entertaining, I lost track of time.”

Satisfied, the Dowager nodded and turned to Emily.

“And what about you, Lady Star?”

“I’m enjoying them just as much.”

As she said this, Emily deliberately spilled tea on her skirt. Marlene immediately mouthed across the table,

“What are you pulling now?”

Emily refused to meet her gaze and turned fully toward the Dowager.

“Madam, I’m terribly sorry, but may I excuse myself to change clothes?”

“Oh dear, are you hurt?”

“No, thankfully the tea wasn’t hot. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Then go ahead, dear. I’ll continue chatting with Miss Ypère.”

With an apologetic smile, Emily stood up.

“Please excuse me.”

As she walked down the corridor, she looked back.

Marlene was mouthing obscenities at her with great enthusiasm.