Chapter 48
“Thank you…”
Though such actions weren’t appropriate considering their ranks, Edith softly murmured her gratitude. Clyde’s firm demeanor as he gestured for her to take the seat he had prepared made it hard for her to refuse.
Nearby, a family sat cozily together on another bench, enjoying a moment of rest. The market’s transformed appearance caught Edith’s eye.
She had plenty of thoughts on city policies herself. After all, this wasn’t the capital’s only market. There were cattle markets, horse markets, and import goods markets as well. She had been researching ways to revitalize such places with minimal investment.
The deeper her thoughts delved, the more unsettled she felt.
If someone asked whether she disliked her current role of reviewing and proposing policies, she wouldn’t be able to answer easily.
Dedicating herself to the empire’s affairs had been exhausting yet undoubtedly rewarding. When her late-night, nosebleed-inducing policy drafts became the crown prince’s sword for securing victories in state meetings, there was a strange satisfaction to it.
On a professional level, planning her departure from the palace to avoid the “bloody purge” of the future left her with no small sense of regret.
When she first arrived in this world, she hadn’t cared about ambition or living earnestly. But her time as an attendant had gradually changed her outlook. If she could, she wanted to prevent a collision between Clyde and the aristocrats.
For someone who had always put self-preservation first, a budding desire to reshape the future had just begun to sprout like a tender seedling.
Whether it was truly possible, she couldn’t be sure.
On a personal level, however, Clyde’s affections still felt burdensome. Her feelings didn’t align with his, and this was a far greater issue than her duties as his attendant.
Every time he drew near, she felt uncomfortable. Even now, sitting on the crown prince’s coat spread out beneath her, she couldn’t feel at ease.
“Ha…”
No matter how much she pondered, the conclusion was always the same: she had to leave the palace.
“Why such a deep sigh?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“If something’s troubling you, you can tell me. I’d be happy to help if I can. And even if I can’t solve it, at least I could share the burden.”
His expectant gaze, so opposite to her own inner turmoil, made facing him unbearably difficult.
—
The day of the Grand Tournament dawned.
An auspicious date, chosen by the court astronomers, ensured the event coincided with the best possible weather. True to prediction, a clear blue sky and refreshing breeze graced the opening ceremony.
In this world, astronomy played a deeply entrenched role in daily life, as per the novel’s setting. It was vital for agriculture and closely tied to astrology. Among the empire’s various beliefs, celestial astrology held the greatest influence.
After a brief ceremonial offering to the heavens, the matches began.
The royal family and high-ranking nobles attended only the opening ceremony before dispersing. None of the VIPs stayed to watch the preliminary matches.
Clyde, too, knew it would be better to leave at the appropriate time. Lingering to spectate would only increase the pressure on the competitors.
Even so, he lingered in the royal box seats, dawdling aimlessly.
“I wish they’d hurry up and start,” he muttered.
A fellow attendant, substituting for Edith, nervously replied, “The first group will be entering the field shortly.”
“Edith is in the second group, right? I’ll stay until then and leave afterward.”
“A wise decision, Your Highness. Who would dare go against your wishes?”
Thanks to having registered early, her turn came near the beginning. Clyde felt relieved that the preliminary matches were conducted in order of registration numbers. Otherwise, he might have gone all three days of preliminaries from morning to evening without even catching a glimpse of her.
Edith was seated in the contestants’ waiting area.
From her seat, she could plainly see the crown prince, who showed no intention of leaving and seemed determined to watch the preliminaries.
While having him there gave her a certain sense of reassurance, shooting was ultimately a battle with herself, and she worked hard to keep her focus intact. In the midst of the bustling atmosphere, she alone stilled her mind.
The waiting area was packed with people, easily numbering in the hundreds. This was just the morning group—there would be a whole new batch of competitors arriving in the afternoon.
For infantry competitions requiring physical strength, participants were typically separated by gender or traits like Alpha and Omega. However, for shooting events—intended to develop future riflemen—competitors were grouped together regardless of gender or secondary traits. There were many Omegas, women, and even minors among the participants.
Because of this, Edith’s small frame and quiet demeanor didn’t stand out much as she sat on her chair.
When Group 2 was called, Edith headed to the arena.
The match format required ten contestants to line up and take turns shooting. With so many competitors, it was inevitable to have such large groups.
The process of verifying identities took longer than the actual shooting. The staff meticulously cross-checked their lists against each contestant’s registration papers, asking for names and origins. By the time the verification was complete, Edith felt drained from waiting.
Behind each contestant was an assistant or helper. Those who couldn’t afford one came alone, but most had someone to carry their equipment or offer coaching. Edith’s helper was the person who prepared her gun every morning.
At the signal to prepare, Edith silently accepted her loaded rifle.
The gun had been custom-made for her, entirely by hand. Its design closely resembled the royal family’s standard rifle but was optimized in every detail for Edith’s use.
Being the preliminaries, the skill levels of the participants varied greatly. Some missed their targets completely, leaving no mark on the target sheet. One contestant even mistook their target and accidentally shot at their neighbors.
Finally, after a long wait, it was Edith’s turn to shoot.
She fixed her gaze on the target through the sights.
‘Don’t overthink. Just focus on shooting well.’
She steadied her breathing and pulled the trigger.
But as soon as she fired, the contestant after her also shot prematurely before their turn. Two gunshots echoed almost simultaneously. Her concentration was nearly thrown off.
‘Could it have been intentional?’
She glanced briefly at the contestant beside her—a seemingly ordinary man.
Fortunately, Edith’s shot landed dead center, scoring a perfect 10.
During the match, she had to fire a total of ten rounds. However, the contestant after her kept making mistakes. He stomped his feet noisily, and at one point even raised his gun prematurely during her turn, forcing the staff to intervene.
This disrupted Edith’s focus, and her final score fell short of her usual performance.
‘An unexpected challenge,’ she thought, slumping her shoulders as she exited the arena. She was boiling inside from not having performed to her full potential.
Still, her score was among the higher ones, and she passed the preliminaries without issue. The disruptive contestant also barely made it through. Fortunately, the order for the finals would be determined by random draw, so it was unlikely she’d end up next to him again.
On her way to collect her qualification notice, she passed groups of contestants chatting among themselves. She could have taken a quieter route along the back of the arena but deliberately slowed her pace, keeping an ear out for anything of interest.
Spotting a sturdy-looking woman standing in line for the qualification notices, Edith joined the queue behind her.
“Wow, looks like you passed. Congratulations!” the woman said energetically, turning around. She glanced at Edith’s outfit and responded without hesitation, “A noble lady competing? Congratulations to you too.”
“Thank you. I just enjoy shooting as a hobby,” Edith replied with a polite smile.
“Oh, my husband owns a rifle, so I practiced with his help,” the woman said cheerfully.
Edith refrained from revealing her true status as a duchess and imperial attendant. She wanted to get a better sense of the atmosphere among the tournament participants and chose to keep things casual.
“If you’re just coming out now, that means you were in Group 2. I was in Group 2 as well,” Edith remarked.
“Yes, Group 2,” the woman confirmed.
“It was harder than I expected, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, you’re telling me! They said anyone and everyone was signing up, and I guess that turned out to be true.”
“Exactly! Seriously…”
“The worst were those who shot at the wrong target and the ones who disrupted others. If they’re that unskilled, they shouldn’t have participated at all.”
“Well, it’s the preliminaries, so I guess we have to put up with it.”
“But that troublemaker messed with my focus too. Just awful.”
Hearing the perspective of someone like the woman, who had diligently prepared for the tournament, was a valuable insight for Edith. It seemed even among amateurs, someone as disruptive as the contestant next to her was a rare case.
This experience was worth keeping in mind. It might just have been bad luck, but there was also the possibility that it had been deliberate.
Edith left the arena and stepped outside, where the crowd was even larger. The space, as wide as a public square, was packed with people.
Just as the waiting area had been filled with contestants, their companions—mostly families—filled the grounds outside. Many carried rifles slung over their shoulders or crouched on the ground sorting through equipment cases.
Among those waiting, her attendants stood at a distance. Yet, mingling discreetly among them, Edith caught sight of Clyde.
Though he wore a hat and scarf to hide his face, his tall, lanky frame and broad shoulders made him unmistakable.
‘What’s he doing here? Of all places, why wait for me here?’
While she grumbled internally, a small part of her couldn’t help but feel pleased.
Pushing her way through the bustling crowd, Edith headed toward her group. Contestants and their families were engrossed in enjoying the event, forming tight circles and chatting animatedly. One person bumped her shoulder as she passed, oblivious to their action.
The noise was overwhelming, louder than a bustling street market. Guns were everywhere, and the sound of metallic clicks was common as people tinkered with their equipment.
Making her way through the chaos, Edith’s eyes stayed on Clyde. Despite her inner complaints about his unexpected appearance, she felt a faint flutter of excitement.
Amid the sea of rifles, she suddenly noticed one aimed directly at her.
The barrel of the gun was perfectly level, pointing straight at her, and behind it, she could feel the cold gaze of its handler.
A chilling sense of foreboding gripped her. She turned her head sharply, seeking the source of the threat.
In the middle of the commotion, one figure radiated an unmistakable hostility. A round gun barrel came into focus.
Behind the long rifle, a man was aiming directly at her.
“What…?” she muttered, freezing in place, her eyes widening in shock.
If he wasn’t merely adjusting his weapon, then what would happen to her in the next moment? The surreal nature of the situation left her paralyzed, her arms and legs slack.
‘I need to move.’ Even if it was a misunderstanding, safety had to come first.
These thoughts and actions passed through her mind in a single instant. The entire sequence lasted no longer than the time it took for a small pebble, kicked by her foot, to hit the ground.
