Chapter 514: Chapter-514
"I believe we had an agreement, My Lord," Heena stated, her voice ringing out clearly across the silent field.
The young nobleman froze. He looked up at her towering figure, his face burning beneath the layer of mud. He had completely forgotten the stakes of the bet in the chaos of his near-death experience. Now, the reality of it hit him like a physical blow.
"You... you tricked me," the man stammered, his voice trembling with humiliated rage. "That is a Vanguard warhorse!"
"And yours is a horse," Heena replied flatly. "You challenged my riding skills, I accepted. I didn’t realize I needed to bring a crippled donkey just to make it fair for you. Now, hand over the reins."
The nobleman looked around wildly, hoping his friends or the older ministers would intervene and save him from this absolute disgrace. But the older men just stroked their beards, highly amused by the brutal lesson in humility, and his friends actively looked away, refusing to meet his eyes.
Even the Prime Minister, standing a few paces away in his pristine white and blue silks, offered no salvation. He simply watched the scene with that same, chillingly serene expression.
Realizing he had no way out without completely destroying his family’s honor, the nobleman let out a pathetic, defeated sound. With shaking, mud-caked hands, he grabbed the reins of his exhausted riding horse and held them up.
Heena didn’t even bother leaning down. She simply flicked her riding crop, expertly hooking the leather straps and pulling the reins up into her own hand.
"A man of his word. How refreshing," Heena smirked, securing the second horse’s reins to her saddle. She looked down at the ruined, seething man. "Enjoy your walk back to your uncle’s estate. The morning merchant markets should be opening up right about now. It will be a very... ’scenic’ route."
The crowd erupted into fresh, merciless laughter as the mud-soaked nobleman hung his head in absolute shame and began the long, agonizingly humiliating walk off the sporting grounds on foot.
.
.
.
As the crowd dispersed slightly to eagerly gossip about the scandal they had just witnessed, Heena prepared to turn her horse and leave. Her mission here was complete. The entire capital would be talking about nothing but this race for the next week.
"Madam Marcuset."
The melodic, calm voice forced her to pull back on the reins.
The Prime Minister had stepped forward, standing entirely too close to the towering warhorse. Up close, the man was even more absurdly beautiful, his features carrying a sharp, porcelain perfection that made him look completely inhuman.
Heena looked down at him, her guard instantly going up. The arrogant nobleman had been a loud, easily manipulated idiot. But this man? This man was the quiet, dangerous current beneath the river.
"Lord Prime Minister," Heena nodded slightly, keeping her posture rigid and alert. "I hope the spectacle did not ruin the tranquility of your morning."
The Prime Minister smiled. It was a faint, impossibly elegant curving of his lips that didn’t quite reach his cool eyes.
"On the contrary," he said softly, looking up at her. "It has been a very long time since I have seen something so authentically unrefined in the capital. The Vanguard has always been a sharp blade, but it seems the new generation wields it with a rather... theatrical flair."
Heena narrowed her eyes. ’’Is he insulting me or praising me?’’ she wondered, tightening her grip on the leather reins.
"Sometimes, My Lord," Heena replied smoothly, "a theatrical flair is required to remind people that the blade is still sharp."
The Prime Minister held her gaze for a long moment, the morning breeze gently swaying the intricate silver embroidery of his robes.
"Indeed," he murmured, taking a deliberate, graceful step back. "But a word of caution, Lady Seera. When one swings a sharp blade so publicly to draw everyone’s eyes... one must make sure they are not leaving their back exposed. The Imperial Palace has a very wide gaze."
Heena’s breath hitched slightly, though she forced her face to remain entirely blank.
’He knows.’
He didn’t know the exact details, but the Prime Minister had instantly deduced that her massive, public stunt was a deliberate distraction. He had looked right through the scandal and seen the tactical maneuver underneath.
"I will keep that in mind, My Lord," Heena said, her voice dropping into a colder, more dangerous register. "Have a pleasant morning."
Without waiting for his dismissal, she spurred her black warhorse forward, leading her newly won prize horse behind her as she galloped away from the sporting grounds.
As she rode back into the bustling capital streets, the cool energy of the Aura Stone on her wrist pulsed rhythmically, settling her racing heart.
The Prime Minister was a terrifying wildcard. But as she looked up at the clear morning sky, she knew her primary objective was accomplished. While the capital was busy laughing at a mud-covered noble and dissecting the Prime Minister’s cryptic words, a discreet black carriage was already miles away, safely crossing the southern border.
By the time Heena’s massive black warhorse trotted back through the iron gates of the Vanguard estate, the capital was already on fire.
The speed of gossip in the aristocratic circles was truly terrifying. Before the mud had even dried on the Marquis’s nephew’s clothes, every teahouse, noble manor, and merchant stall was already buzzing with the news. ’The supposedly fragile Madam Marcuset had invaded the men’s sporting grounds, publicly humiliated a nobleman, and won a purebred riding horse in a brutal high-speed sprint.’
Heena handed the reins of both horses to the stunned stable boy.
She looked up at the sky. It was getting late, which meant it was almost time for her to head straight to the Imperial Palace. She still had a job to do: tutoring the spoiled, tyrannical Ninth Prince.
She looked down at her outfit. She was still wearing her dark, functional riding leathers. Normally, appearing before the royal family required changing into heavy, suffocatingly formal court silks. But Heena just shrugged. She had already bathed before dawn, and thanks to the freezing morning air and the purifying effects of the Aura Stone bangle on her wrist, she hadn’t sweat a single drop. She felt completely fresh.
Besides, she really didn’t want to squeeze into a corset right now. If she was going to the palace to terrorize a prince, looking like a literal Vanguard general in leather armor was a strategic bonus.
As she walked across the courtyard, the heavy main doors of the estate opened.
Grandpa Marcuset strode out, flanked by his elite guards. The old general was dressed in his spectacular, heavily embroidered formal court robes, adorned with the terrifying military crests of the Vanguard. He was preparing to head to the morning assembly to face the Emperor and the inevitably furious Marquis of Westlake.
Heena paused, crossing her arms as she looked the towering old man up and down.
"Looking handsome, Grandpa," Heena complimented with a casual, approving nod.
Grandpa Marcuset immediately stopped. He puffed out his massive chest, lifting his chin proudly as he smoothed down his thick white beard.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter