supriya_shukla

Chapter 279: The Hunting Began

Chapter 279: The Hunting Began


[Eleania’s POV—At the Hunting Competition]


"...Wow, the princess looks stunning today. Now I understand why Lord Osric fell for her," one noblewoman whispered beside me, her fan fluttering as her eyes followed Princess Lavinia’s every move.


Another leaned in, voice tinged with curiosity. "Do you think their engagement rumors are true? They haven’t made any official announcement yet."


"Maybe not," the first replied, "but look at him. The way Lord Osric is staring at her—it doesn’t look like rumor to me."


A third noble nodded softly. "He looks enchanted."


Their laughter and sighs felt like knives against my skin.


I forced a smile, though my fingers curled tightly around my skirt. Because there he was—my Osric. The man who was supposed to be mine. I was the one who laid my eyes on him. And yet, his gaze was on her, the golden princess, as though the rest of the world had turned to dust.


Every flicker of admiration in his eyes felt like betrayal. Every faint smile he gave her ignited a fire in my chest that burned hotter than envy—it was humiliation, sharpened by heartbreak.


Then, a cold hand slid over mine. The grip was gentle at first, then tightened until I winced.


"Ahhh..." I winced in pain.


Sirella.


Her painted lips curved in a graceful smile, the kind that fooled every fool in the court—but her eyes, her eyes gleamed like blades.


"My, my..." she whispered, her voice dripping with venomous amusement. "You’re glaring so hard, you’ll set her dress on fire."


I turned to her, whispering through clenched teeth, "She’s stealing everything. His attention. His love. Even his glory."


Her smile didn’t waver. "Then snatch it from her."


Her fingers tightened cruelly around mine, nails biting into my skin. "If you want Lord Osric, don’t waste your fury on tears, Eleania. Use it."


I swallowed hard, her words like poison seeping into my thoughts.


She leaned closer, her perfume heavy with jasmine and deceit. "Today is the perfect chance. Get Lord Osric to your side—or make sure the princess loses everything she holds dear. Either you Snatch him from her or...separate him from her. Just do it."


My heart pounded. "And if I fail...?"


Her smile faltered into something hollow and cold. "Then you’ll return to the alley where I found you," she said softly, her tone sweet but deadly. "And this time, I won’t drag you out. I will dispose you at the same place I picked you from."


My throat tightened. I dared not speak.


"Remember," she murmured, brushing invisible dust from her gown, "Princess Lavinia may be loved, but love is fragile. Break it once, and it’ll never be whole again."


I looked back toward the field—toward her—standing radiant beside her divine beast, basking in admiration from everyone. Her confidence, her gentle smile...are stinging my eyes like a thorn.


I felt something inside me shift, dark and certain.


Today... no matter what it takes, I’ll make her regret ever taking what I desired.


***


[Lavinia’s POV — At the Hunting Competition]


GLARE.GLARE.GLARE.


What in the seven burning suns...?


Why do I feel like someone’s trying to set me on fire with sheer hatred?


I shifted slightly on my horse, feeling that prickling sensation on the back of my neck. My gaze swept over the gathered nobles until—ah. There she was.


Eleania. Sitting like a porcelain doll dipped in venom, eyes locked on me as if she could stab me through sheer willpower. And right beside her—Lady Sirella, all smiles and grace, her face the picture of refinement.


"Oh, wonderful," I muttered under my breath. "Court vipers before breakfast."


"Lavi?" Osric’s voice pulled me back. "Did something happen?"


Osric was watching me with that familiar mix of concern and curiosity. I tilted my head toward him, still half-smirking.


"Nothing serious," I said lightly. "Just... someone’s glaring at me hard enough to melt steel."


He blinked in confusion. "Who—?"


I didn’t answer. Instead, I looked back at Eleania, who was still throwing metaphorical daggers my way, and—oh, the jealousy in her eyes was delicious. Was it because Osric was beside me? Because his gaze hadn’t left me once since I arrived?


Hmm. Tempting thought.


Heh. Should I provoke her a little more? It’s not like I get many chances to play villain for fun. Just a little. I mean, I’m technically innocent if I’m just standing here looking beautiful. Right?


I tilted my head, brushing a strand of golden hair behind my ear, and looked at Osric with a teasing smile.


"Osric... you didn’t tell me how I look today."


He froze for half a second, color rushing to his cheeks. Then, with that earnest, painfully sincere voice of his, he said, "As always... you look breathtaking, Lavi."


I smiled, leaning just a little closer. "You sure? Not a single thing out of place?"


He shook his head, flustered. "Not at all. You’re perfect."


Behind him, I could practically hear Eleania’s teeth grinding. I smiled sweetly, then gasped dramatically. "Oh! There’s an eyelash on your cheek, Osric."


He blinked, instantly reaching up. "Where?"


I grinned. "Let me help you."


I leaned in—close enough to feel the warmth of his breath—and brushed my fingers gently against his cheek. The world seemed to go silent for a heartbeat. His eyes widened, his face turned bright red, and somewhere in the audience, I swear I heard a very audible gasp from the seating pavilion.


"Hold still," I whispered, brushing my fingers against his cheek, slow and gentle. "There. Gone."


He froze, eyes darting toward me. "Ah... thank you."


I smiled. "You’re welcome."


Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Eleania’s expression twist into barely contained fury. She looked ready to storm the field and strangle me with her silk gloves.


Then, just as I was about to turn away, he said quietly, "I’ve put your handkerchief here—on my sword." He patted the hilt proudly. "I think with this, victory will be mine."


I followed his gaze... and grimaced. The poor handkerchief looked like it had survived a battle—my "flower" embroidery resembled a wilted cabbage more than anything remotely floral.


"Ah, yes..." I said weakly. "My beautiful... creation."


He grinned, completely earnest. "It’s special because it’s from you."


I groaned softly under my breath. "It’s special because it’s a miracle it didn’t catch fire while I was making it."


He chuckled softly, not catching the sarcasm. "Still, it’s perfect."


I rolled my eyes affectionately. "You’re hopeless."


He smiled at me, warm and genuine. "Hopelessly yours, maybe."


My cheeks flushed as he said that. I looked away, pretending to check my reins, just to hide the small smile tugging at my lips. And seeing him so happy, I couldn’t help the warmth that spread in my chest.


But even as I did, I caught a glimpse of Eleania again—her knuckles white, her glare burning brighter.


Heh. This was going to be fun.


And then a long, echoing horn split the air—deep, powerful, and commanding.


The start of the hunt.


A thousand birds burst from the forest canopy in a fluttering storm of wings. The ground beneath us seemed to hum with anticipation as the banners of Irethene rippled in the cold morning wind.


Trumpets blared again, and the herald’s voice rang out across the field:


"By decree of His Majesty, Emperor Cassius Devereux of Elorian—let the Imperial Hunting Festival... BEGIN!"


The crowd erupted into cheers. Horses neighed, metal clinked, and hunters surged forward in groups, their laughter mixing with the thunder of hooves.


I turned to Osric and smirked. "Ready to lose?"


He grinned back, eyes glinting with playful defiance. "You’re welcome to try, Your Highness. But don’t cry when I win."


"Oh please." I clicked my tongue and patted Marshi’s broad head. "I’ll be the one waiting at the finish line with the biggest kill."


Marshi growled approvingly, his tail flicking like a whip. The golden fur on his back shimmered under the sunlight, and even the other horses nearby whinnied uneasily at his presence.


I straightened in my saddle, feeling the rush of power as my cloak fluttered behind me. This was my element—no court politics, no delicate manners. Just instinct. Breathe. And the thrill of the chase.


"Stay close, Osric," I said with a grin.


He raised an eyebrow. "You’re worried about me?"


I smirked. "No. I’m worried you’ll get lost before I can gloat."


He laughed under his breath, and just like that—


CRACK!!!


The signal flare shot into the sky, bursting in a spray of crimson light.


The hunt had begun.


I kicked my horse forward, and the world blurred into motion. Wind tore through my hair as the forest loomed ahead—dark, endless, and alive. Marshi roared beside me, his claws digging into the earth, keeping perfect pace with my steed.


Behind me, I could see Osric’s smirk, his horse galloping close, and far in the distance, the desperate shouts of nobles trying to keep up.


The festival had officially begun and even the fun.