Chapter 41
Edith asked in the same tone as before, “And what about the shooting competition? That’s practically the highlight… The winner gets the special privilege of joining the Royal Rifle Corps, after all.”
He answered smoothly, as if he had prepared his response in advance.
“Just like everyone else, the Graves family will also have participants. We’ve called in some distant relatives from the countryside to train.”
“Really? Are they skilled?”
“They’re very passionate about hunting. I think they have a shot at winning.”
“Wow! That would be wonderful if they won.”
The top winners are directly recruited into the Royal Rifle Corps, and those ranking below are given the opportunity to join the military near the capital.
The Emperor’s standing army is known for being a stable job, so many people aim for military enlistment even if they don’t win the Royal Rifle Corps spot. Anyone eligible could enter the competition, and it was common to see people borrowing guns and firing a few shots, hoping for good luck.
Given this atmosphere, it was natural for Peyton to send a relative to the shooting competition.
“Peyton, do other families also send many skilled participants?”
“Yes, there are more than I can count among those I know. It’s a chance to increase one’s influence in the palace.”
“True. It’s a fair opportunity. So, who do you see as your rival?”
He smiled confidently. “I think my people are the best.”
Peyton seemed to have a personality that didn’t particularly favor humility. He had a style of openly showcasing what he excelled at and was proud of.
This straightforwardness had both advantages and disadvantages, but it was something Edith needed to consider. She would decide on the marriage once she felt confident enough after getting to know him better. If they were to marry, his boasting might become intolerable.
But there are also people who match well with such a personality. Some even find excessive humility irritating.
So, Edith didn’t make any strong judgments about Peyton, either positive or negative. She decided to see him a bit more.
“Could you perhaps show me the skills of your participants?”
“Of course.”
He readily agreed, seemingly eager to showcase his people’s talents.
The shooting range used by Peyton’s family was a short carriage ride away. Someone was already practicing there. It was unclear if these were the same people she had glimpsed earlier; she couldn’t remember their faces, but the guns they carried were indeed the same as the Royal Rifle Corps’ guns.
Peyton had no idea that Edith could distinguish between guns. For an ordinary noblewoman, it would be unusual to have handled a gun, let alone distinguish the latest models by subtle differences.
However, Edith had studied various guns closely under Clyde’s tutelage, comparing them side by side to modify a male-oriented Royal Corps gun for her use.
The type of gun was crucial in shooting. She had heard endless discussions about balance, barrel length, and so on.
“This way, Edith. This is my relative, Cedric. And this is the Duke of Katsumorris, who serves as an attendant to the Crown Prince.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“It’s an honor to meet you.”
As Peyton casually introduced one of the shooters, Edith greeted them without showing any reaction.
She flashed a polite smile while glancing at the gun. It was indeed a Royal Corps gun.
Very few people knew that she practiced shooting at the royal shooting range at dawn. The only ones present were discreet palace staff and loyal knights.
The fact that Edith was preparing for the competition was top secret.
Her participation was intended to observe how smoothly the event would be conducted. She was to act as a covert observer.
During the competition, she might catch wind of any sabotage attempts by opposing factions. Or, she could identify unforeseen operational issues.
While showcasing exceptional skill might reveal her true identity, it was better to stay under the radar for as long as possible. The later she was exposed, the better.
For these reasons, Edith played the part of an ignorant spectator.
She even pretended to be startled by the sound of gunfire.
“Wow, the sound is really loud.”
Peyton acknowledged her with a knowing smile. “Edith, you probably haven’t been this close to a shooting before.”
Just then, another shot rang out, and she covered her ears. It gave her an excuse not to respond. It was okay to lie a bit for her duty, but smoother was always better.
“Are the others joining the competition along with Peyton’s relative?”
“Yes, they’re friends from the same hometown as Cedric.”
It seemed that Cedric was the least skilled, while the others performed well.
It appeared that the Graves family had set up a figurehead to represent the family while bringing in sharpshooters. They didn’t seem like actual hometown friends; judging by their attire and manner of speaking, they looked like hired guns.
Edith wondered if other families were doing the same. She didn’t show any reaction but pondered internally. There was an unexplained unease lingering in her mind.
While meeting Peyton, Edith felt like she was constantly probing his demeanor, trying to uncover any hidden aspects.
She had read very little about Peyton in the original story. As a supporting character who appeared briefly in one of the twenty-five episodes, he didn’t leave much of an impression, nor did he show any signs of being a villain.
But people don’t change overnight. There might still be some villainous traits lurking within him. If Edith detected any signs of such traits, she would withdraw from the marriage talks; if not, she would consider continuing to meet him.
Furthermore, just as much of the story had changed, there was a possibility that Peyton would not turn out to be a villain.
From the start, what concerned Edith about him was this uncertainty. She wanted to observe him objectively without jumping to conclusions.
Keeping various aspects in mind, she pretended to be timid and watched from a distance.
Nearby, there was a cart equipped with various gear, from large storage boxes to extra bullets, gunpowder, and paper targets with concentric circles.
There were also papers with bullet holes, indicating much practice had been done. The papers were scattered in individual storage boxes, each person’s belongings.
But something strange caught her eye.
A quick glance at the nearest box revealed bullet holes in unusual patterns.
On some papers, the shots were nearly perfect, hitting the center almost every time. On others, they barely scored above one point.
It seemed too consistent to be a matter of fluctuating skill.
Half of the papers showed perfect scores, while the other half showed scores below one.
There was no mix of perfect and low scores; they were completely polarized.
A chill ran down her spine, as if she had stumbled upon a secret she shouldn’t have seen. It was clear that they were intentionally missing the target.
Practicing to miss… but why?
Peyton didn’t seem to notice the scattered papers. Edith also pretended not to see them, turning her head away without touching the box.
“Everyone here is quite a marksman. Who’s the best shot?”
“Nixon has the best results. He’s the young man with the brown, tousled hair over there.”
The name “Nixon” was scrawled on the corner of the box with chalk.
Edith felt a shiver run through her entire body.
She hoped her expression didn’t visibly change. It was challenging to maintain a nonchalant demeanor in such a situation.
“Oh, so I’m getting a preview of the future champion.”
“Winning…”
For a moment, Peyton, who had been bragging continuously, trailed off. He had been claiming that his people were the best marksmen, so was he unsure about winning?
“Well, winning is possible, too,” he answered hesitantly.
If he was suggesting that Nixon was the best shooter but might not win, it was a serious concern. Peyton was clearly up to something.
She could surmise that he had a specific purpose. While she couldn’t determine exactly what he was planning, it was likely something undesirable related to the shooting competition.
She needed to return to the palace quickly and inform Clyde about this.
Additionally, she felt a growing desire to postpone any marriage talks with Peyton.
In an arranged marriage, she mentally deducted about fifty points from a perfect score of one hundred. The remaining fifty points were left out of consideration for Peyton’s position. There might be some context or reasoning behind his scheming.
* * *
A carriage from the palace came to pick her up.
Edith got into the royal carriage without needing to borrow Peyton’s.
She had much to think about and felt tired. Still unaccustomed to waking up early, she was already exhausted by early evening. She leaned her head against the cushion of the carriage and closed her eyes.
The rhythmic sound of the carriage’s wheels was steady.
Suddenly, the carriage stopped. Thinking they had arrived, she looked outside and saw they were still in the city.
“What’s going on?”
Just as she called out to the coachman, the door suddenly opened.
A man with his hat pulled low burst in. He sat next to Edith and slammed the door shut.
“Move.”
The man’s voice was familiar. There was a lot of anger in his curt tone.
He roughly pulled off the scarf that was covering his face along with the hat. The coat, which seemed borrowed and was tight around his shoulders, was thrown off uncomfortably.
Finally, he pushed the hat back.
His dark hair, obscured in the dim light inside the carriage, looked almost black. He ran his fingers through his hair, which left it tousled.
“If you were trying to test me today, Edith…”
“Clyde.”
He pushed closer to her, crumpling her skirt as he moved across the seat cushion.
There was no escape in the narrow carriage. Even if there was room, Edith had no way to fend off Clyde’s angry movements. She froze like ice, unable to move.
His strong arm snaked around her, pulling her close.
“You’ve really pushed me this time.”
