Her Graceful War Song

Carissa was especially busy today. Her presence was felt throughout the palace grounds, as she hurriedly moved from one task to the next. Now, she was back at the racetrack, overseeing the arrangements and ensuring everything was in order.

The equestrian competition was set to begin shortly. A large group of military officers and young men from noble families had already gathered outside the track. All of them held their horses, eagerly awaiting their turn.

The event itself was straightforward each rider was to complete three laps around the track. At intervals, two-foot-high hurdles would be placed in their path, and each rider would need to leap their horse over the barriers without knocking them down. The winner would be the first to complete all three laps.noveldrama

In truth, calling it a "competition" was somewhat of an exaggeration.

For well-trained horses and skilled riders, the two-foot barriers posed little challenge. But the height had been chosen specifically for the three royal princes, or more precisely, for Connor and Caden, as Cecil might not participate. If he did, Carissa had already arranged for someone to lead his horse in the event.

According to the schedule, the princes would only race after all the other competitors had finished their rounds. This was a decision made by Salvador, ensuring his sons would have a chance to watch the more experienced riders go first.

As they waited in the staging area, the princes would watch the horses gallop, and feel the rush of excitement and anticipation. Perhaps they would even feel the thrill of wanting to ride themselves.

The competition was not just about the event itself, but about the emotions they would experience along the way-the tension, the adrenaline, and the eager desire to soon take their turn.

Salvador and the officials were already seated in an elevated viewing box, which offered the perfect vantage point to observe the race in full. Rafael and Jeremiah sat next to the king. As for the women of the harem, they were led by Kylie and seated on the opposite side, a respectful distance from the men, separated by a small section of space.

At the center of the track, a large drum had been set up, its blue velvet covering fluttering in the wind. On either side of the drum stood Thomas and Tyler, the judges of the event.

Carissa stood in the field, but she positioned herself just in front of the high platform where Salvador sat. While the chances of an assassin being present were slim, it was always better to be cautious.

With where she was standing, she would be in a prime position to intervene immediately if any threat to the king arose.

Ryan and the three princes arrived with their horses. They stood at the back of the line, waiting for the other competitors to finish their rounds before they took their turn.

The tension in the air was palpable, with even Ryan feeling sweat gathering in his palms. The scale of the event was overwhelming, especially with the sandy track and the imposing hurdles. The whole competition weighed like a heavy pressure on everyone involved.

But the greatest pressure, without a doubt, came from the spectators in the elevated viewing box.

Kylie was also feeling the weight of the moment. She kept casting anxious glances toward the staging area, but was unable to spot Connor among the others. When Salvador had been accepting congratulations from his ministers, Kylie had hoped to send someone to fetch Connor. However, both the Mystic Army and the guards had informed her that Victoria had given strict orders to not disturb Connor.

Frustrated, Kylie ground her teeth, powerless to do anything. She could only wonder about Connor's current state. Was he confident, or would he be overwhelmed with nerves?

She feared a repeat of the Verdant Hunt incident. If he lost the race and broke into tears, how would that be handled?

If that happened, the name of the crown prince written in the royal edict would likely be changed.

Kylie cast a glance at Grace, expecting her to be just as nervous. But to her surprise, Grace was leisurely nibbling on some candied fruit. She looked utterly unperturbed, without a trace of worry in her demeanor.

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Then, Kylie's eyes shifted to Sylvia, whose expression was cool and detached her gaze unwavering as if no one around her existed. Her. indifference seemed to reach the very edges of the room; not even a flicker of emotion passed across her face.

A cold smile curled at the queen's lips. Who could have imagined that the once adored and spoiled Sylvia would end up in such a state? But then again, it was her own doing. She had allowed herself to entertain thoughts she shouldn't have.

Just as Kylie's mind was tangled in thoughts of Sylvia's misfortunes, a sudden and thunderous drumbeat broke her concentration. The sound startled her, and she quickly turned her attention to the racetrack.

The competition had begun.

The thundering of hooves filled the air, and dust was kicked up in clouds. It was as though an army of wild stallions was charging across the track. The speed was so great that the riders were little more than fleeting shadows atop the horses.

The racetrack was vast enough to accommodate dozens of horses galloping at

full speed, each one racing along its predetermined path.

The sound of the horses' hooves was deafening, and the cheers of the crowd only added to the excitement. The scene was enough to stir the blood of any man. Even Salvador stood, clapping his hands in approval.

Unfortunately, the dust and the sheer speed of the race made it impossible for him to discern who was currently in the lead.