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A Competition Ignites

chapter 45: A Competition Ignites

 

 

“Oh my, I had no idea Lady White admired and supported me so much. Thank you—I’ll gladly accept the handkerchief.”

 

With a smile as crisp as a freshly picked apple, Aracila snatched the handkerchief straight out of Nora’s hand.

 

Nora, who had spent several nights painstakingly embroidering floral patterns onto it for Damian, was left stunned and speechless.

 

“…Who said that was for you?”

 

“If you had any sense, you wouldn’t be offering it to a married man, so obviously, it must be for me.”

 

Aracila tilted her head.

 

“Besides, you never actually specified the recipient, did you?”

 

Of course, Nora had clearly extended the handkerchief toward Damian.

 

There was no room for misinterpretation.

 

However, with so many eyes on them, insisting otherwise would make her seem desperate.

 

If she appeared too eager to give a handkerchief to a married man, she risked ruining her own reputation.

 

Ugh, but I don’t want this woman to take the handkerchief I worked so hard on!

 

Aracila, noticing Nora’s flustered hesitation, gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

 

“I heard I’m the only female participant in today’s hunting festival. How thoughtful of you to have prepared a handkerchief just for me.”

 

“….”

 

“Or… perhaps you were serious when you said ‘I’ll be watching you’ last time? Have you fallen for me after seeing my face again?”

 

Just like the last time they met at the Vandemir estate, Aracila cupped her chin with her hands.

 

With her radiant smile, she looked as fresh as a flower in the morning dew.

 

“W-what nonsense—!”

 

“Well then, I’ll make good use of this. Thank you, Lady White. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a bit busy.”

 

Completely ignoring Nora’s outburst, Aracila grabbed Damian’s hand and pulled him away.

 

Damian wordlessly followed her lead.

 

Nora, left standing there alone, could do nothing but watch the couple walk away.

 

She had intended to provoke the wife by gifting the husband a handkerchief—but instead, she had lost the very handkerchief she embroidered with such care.

 

She’s infuriating! Absolutely infuriating!

 

 

After entering the tent, Aracila casually stuffed the handkerchief into her pocket.

 

Then, she pulled the white ribbon from her hair and handed it to Damian.

 

“Here, take this.”

 

“…What is this?”

 

“A replacement for a handkerchief.”

 

Originally, Aracila hadn’t planned on giving him anything.

 

But after seeing Nora offer him a handkerchief, she changed her mind.

 

If she didn’t give him anything, who knew what other noblewoman might try the same stunt?

 

Even though their marriage was a contract, they were publicly seen as a loving couple.

 

She needed to maintain appearances—and nothing emphasized a relationship more than exchanging tokens of encouragement before a competition.

 

Damian silently accepted the ribbon.

 

Her name was embroidered on the end of the fabric, making it obvious who it belonged to.

 

“…Isn’t it tradition to give a handkerchief embroidered by hand?”

 

“My embroidery skills are absolutely terrible. Trust me, you’d rather have this.”

 

Damian said nothing more and tied the ribbon around the hilt of his sword.

 

Then, he noticed that Aracila was still standing with her hand outstretched.

 

He raised an eyebrow.

 

“…Why are you still holding out your hand?”

 

“You need to give me something too.”

 

“……?”

 

Damian blinked, momentarily confused.

 

Although she wore no makeup, her lips and cheeks had a natural flush, making her look full of life.

 

After a brief pause, he finally understood.

 

She’s expecting me to give her something—like a handkerchief or a ribbon.

 

Raising both hands, he stated,

 

“I have nothing to give.”

 

“Look harder. If you don’t have anything, rip off a piece of your clothing or something.”

 

Aracila waved her hand impatiently, like a debt collector demanding payment.

 

With the competition about to start, her impatience was clear.

 

Damian quickly glanced down at himself.

 

Tearing my clothes isn’t an option…

 

After a moment’s thought, his gaze landed on his gloves.

 

Since he was right-handed, he removed the left glove and handed it to Aracila.

 

“This is the best I can do.”

 

“…Not bad. The Red Hawk insignia on the button makes it obvious that it’s yours.”

 

If they were competing as a couple, it only made sense for both of them to exchange something.

 

Aracila had no intention of letting Damian receive encouragement while she got nothing.

 

And the more visible their exchange was, the better it would serve to display their “affection” to others.

 

Satisfied, she slipped the glove onto her left hand.

 

It was too big, of course, but since she was also right-handed, it wouldn’t interfere with her grip on her staff.

 

 

“The hunting festival is about to begin! All participants, please step out of the tent and prepare for the starting signal!”

 

A royal attendant’s booming voice rang out.

 

As they exited the tent, Aracila spoke.

 

“Damian, don’t expect me to go easy on you just because we’re married.”

 

“That’s exactly what I was hoping for. And don’t expect me to hold back either.”

 

Bwooooh—!

 

The trumpet blared, signaling the start of the hunting festival.

 

The participants rushed into the forest.

 

Aracila and Damian moved forward at the same time.

 

Meanwhile, standing in the corner of the tent, Oscar waited until everyone else had left before reluctantly stepping outside.

 

The truth was, he hadn’t trained at all for the hunting festival.

 

Instead of practicing, he had used “training” as an excuse to sneak away and have fun with women.

 

That was why, even though he was jealous of Damian’s status as the leading contender, he had no confidence that he could surpass him.

 

So he lingered in place, caught between resentment and helplessness.

 

Damn it, I’m terrible at hunting. What do I do?

 

He sighed, his bow slung over his shoulder feeling unbearably heavy.

 

Just then, the Duchess appeared, having spotted him loitering near the entrance.

 

“Oscar! What are you doing here?!”

 

“Ah, Mother.”

 

Startled, Oscar quickly glanced around to check for his father.

 

Fortunately, the Duke wasn’t with her.

 

If his father had been present, he would have dragged him off by the ear.

 

Relieved, Oscar turned back to his mother.

 

“…Do I really have to compete? No one can beat that brute Damian anyway.”

 

Oscar firmly believed that Damian was nothing but a mindless, muscle-bound brute.

 

Whereas he, a cultured and refined gentleman, was his intellectual superior.

 

His mother, after quickly scanning the surroundings, lowered her voice and whispered.

 

“Don’t worry about that. We’ve prepared something.”

 

“…What?”

 

“Damian will not win today.”

 

“…!”

 

“So go out there and catch as much game as you can.”

 

From the moment Aracila and Damian arrived, they drew everyone’s attention.

 

Their striking figures, illuminated by natural sunlight as they walked in, resembled a painting.

 

But more than that, their contrasting appearances—one wielding a staff and the other a sword—clearly marked them as a mage and a knight, natural rivals.

 

“I heard the top contenders for this year’s hunting festival are the Vandemir couple and His Highness, the Crown Prince.”

 

“I wonder who will take the victory.”

 

“Well, a husband and wife wouldn’t seriously compete against each other, so it’ll probably be His Highness.”

 

Upon hearing these murmurs, Iris silently shook her head.

 

A couple wouldn’t seriously compete?

 

No. These two would.

 

Noticing the subtle yet intense atmosphere between her younger sister and brother-in-law as they approached, Iris was certain.

 

Aracila’s eyes burned with pure competitiveness, and Damian looked no different.

 

Even if the rivalry had been imposed on them, how did they both end up embracing it so naturally?

 

The fact that neither had tried to stop the other from participating—how perfectly in sync they were.

 

Iris let out a silent sigh.

 

Behind her, a small head peeked out—Adrian, dressed in a hunting outfit designed for children.

 

Although he was too young to participate, he had come as a spectator.

 

Upon spotting his second sister and her husband, his green eyes sparkled with excitement.

 

“Hello, brother-in-law!”

 

The moment Damian got close, Adrian ran forward, placed his hands over his belly, and bowed.

 

His round, eager eyes shone as he gazed up at Damian.

 

“I heard you’re competing in the hunting festival today! You’re definitely going to win, right? I’ll cheer for you with all my heart!”

 

This was the same Adrian who had vehemently opposed their marriage.

 

Now, he called Damian brother-in-law with the utmost sincerity.

 

Children’s hearts were fickle yet refreshingly simple.

 

In Adrian’s world, the tallest, strongest, and most handsome person was now Damian.

 

Naturally, he expected Damian to win the hunting festival.

 

On the other hand, Damian was at a loss.

 

Having had very little experience dealing with children, he wasn’t sure how to respond.

 

If I say, “Nothing in the world is certain,” will that… upset him?

Recalling how he had made Adrian cry during their first meeting, Damian chose his words carefully.

 

Glancing to the side, he saw that Aracila—who clearly viewed him as her competition—had no intention of helping him out.

 

When their eyes met, she simply gestured with her chin, as if telling him to hurry up and answer.

 

“…Ahem. Thank you. I’ll do my best to win.”

 

He placed his hand atop Adrian’s head, but since the boy’s head was so small compared to his large hand, his fingers felt awkwardly positioned.

 

“Yes, brother-in-law!”

 

Thankfully, it seemed to be the right response—Adrian grinned brightly.

 

For a brief moment, Damian thought to himself, This family all smiles in the same way.

 

Then—

 

“Adrian, do you not know that your sister is competing too?”

 

Aracila, who had been watching the heartwarming exchange, interjected with a sharp pinch to Adrian’s cheek.

 

“You’ve changed, huh? How could you cheer for Damian instead of your own sister? Do you like my husband that much?”

 

“A-ah! No, sis! That’s not what I meant—I want you to win too!”

 

Flailing his hands in protest, Adrian frantically tried to explain.

 

Aracila crouched and firmly squished both of his cheeks.

 

“Adrian, there can only be one sun in the sky.”

 

“…Huh?”

 

“Damian can only be the runner-up. The winner will be me.”

 

“We’ll see about that. People who boast too much tend to fail early on.”

 

Damian, unwilling to lose, immediately countered.

 

Aracila let go of Adrian’s face and straightened up, staring directly at her husband.

 

The sparks of competition crackled in the air between them.

 

Iris pressed her fingers to her forehead.

 

“Aracila, Sir Vandemir. You’re a married couple. Take care of each other first. Winning comes after that.”

 

She tried to sound firm, but it seemed to go unheard.

 

Just as Iris let out another deep sigh, the Marquis and Marquess arrived.

 

“You two, be careful out there. The competition is secondary—what’s most important is having fun and staying safe.”

 

“Oh my, Ned. Weren’t you the one who wanted one of them to win?”

 

The Marquess playfully teased her husband before addressing the couple,

 

“But yes, don’t push yourselves too hard. Just enjoy the festival.”

 

Faced with Aracila’s parents, even the fiercely competitive couple couldn’t continue their battle of wills.

 

They obediently nodded.

 

Soon after, an announcement rang out:

 

“All participants, please gather at the green tent.”

 

Saying their goodbyes to their families, Aracila and Damian walked toward the designated area together.

 

Other participants were also arriving from different directions.

 

Around them, noble ladies hovered, waiting for a chance to gift their handkerchiefs to certain competitors.

 

Because of this, the tent’s surroundings were crowded with hopeful admirers.

 

As they carefully navigated through the throng to avoid bumping into others, someone suddenly blocked their path.

 

“I wish you victory in today’s hunt.”

 

A soft smile accompanied a gracefully extended handkerchief—held out by Nora White.

 

She was dressed as if she were attending a ballroom, elegantly styled and glowing with sophistication.

 

She looked completely different from Aracila, who had tied her hair up and dressed in practical hunting attire, devoid of makeup.

 

“This is a gesture of respect and encouragement—so please don’t misunderstand.”

 

Nora’s eyes curved slightly as she spoke.

 

She had directed her words at both Aracila and Damian.

 

It was true that gifting a handkerchief to a participant wasn’t always a sign of romantic interest.

 

Some noblewomen gave handkerchiefs to young, promising men as a form of encouragement.

 

But in this case, Nora was neither an older noblewoman nor was Damian an unattached young man.

 

Does she think phrasing it that way will make this acceptable?

 

Aracila silently observed Damian, who made no move to accept the handkerchief, and Nora, who continued to offer it persistently.

 

Hmph. A random woman giving my husband a handkerchief when even I haven’t…

 

Although it seemed Damian had no intention of taking it, Aracila deliberately stepped forward—positioning herself between them.

 

With a booming voice, she exclaimed,

 

“My goodness! Lady White!”

 

Her powerful projection immediately drew the attention of everyone nearby.

 

Startled, Damian instinctively stepped back, leaving Aracila and Nora face-to-face.

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Comment

  1. Dancing in the moonlight says:

    that’s my girl

    thanks for the chapter

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