Chapter 162: Accident
“Ah… I’m sorry, truly sorry.”
Oscar immediately bowed at the waist in apology. Frederick waved his hand dismissively.
“Forget it. I didn’t call you here for an apology.”
“……”
“Lord Vandemir, I’m placing my expectations on you. Your father, the duke, has always boasted about his son.”
Frederick crooked his finger, beckoning him closer. Fortunately, Oscar caught on this time and quickly approached, lowering his head.
Frederick leisurely grasped Oscar’s shoulder and continued.
“But from what I’ve seen lately, your situation doesn’t seem promising at all. Considering that scandal at the end of last year, it feels like you could use even a small achievement to show off to others.”
“……You’re right, Your Highness.”
Oscar couldn’t deny it and replied gloomily. At this rate, he’d be branded as a failure who couldn’t even produce a child with a commoner, and he might not inherit the dukedom.
A sense of crisis stronger than ever before made Oscar bold yet impatient.
Frederick smiled as if he understood that sentiment, but his voice carried a subtle pressure.
“In that case, it would be best if you started winning from today’s match onward. Don’t you agree?”
Oscar’s face flinched for a moment, then darkened with a heavy shadow. He knew Damian was participating in today’s equestrian event.
He had already conceded defeat to his half-brother in at least the physical aspects of their rivalry. Swordsmanship was a given, and he had no confidence in winning at riding either.
Oscar hesitated, then cautiously opened his mouth.
“Your Highness, it’s truly embarrassing and regrettable to say this, but… Damian is an ignorant brute, so he’s exceptional in physical matters. For me to surpass him and take first place would be a bit difficult……”
“Yes, I can see why you’d think that. But you have to consider my position as well.”
Frederick, unwilling to indulge the whining of a grown man for long, immediately reached into his jacket.
“If I’m going to introduce you as a friend in front of people from now on, you’ll need at least one trophy to save face, won’t you?”
He pulled something from his breast pocket and discreetly pressed it into Oscar’s hand. Oscar, receiving it unexpectedly, wore a bewildered expression.
“Your Highness, this is……”
“It’s a gift prepared just for you. You wouldn’t want to betray your father’s expectations—or mine—would you?”
“……No, absolutely not.”
Oscar nodded gravely. Frederick’s eyes turned cold, even as his lips curved into a gentle smile.
A short while later, Oscar exited the tent with his jacket pocket now bulging.
He hurriedly mounted his horse and took his place at the starting line last of all. Coincidentally, it was right next to Damian.
“Hey, Damian. Long time no see?”
Fresh from his meeting with Frederick and brimming with newfound confidence, Oscar greeted Damian provocatively.
But Damian merely stroked the mane of his mount, not even glancing his way. Irritated, Oscar craned his neck and sneered.
“Looks like you’ve been living well off the family’s back. Your complexion seems healthy.”
“……”
“Are you ignoring your older brother right now?”
As his voice grew louder, Damian let out a silent sigh and turned his head sideways to look at Oscar.
His gaze was filled with the annoyance of a buzzing fly hovering nearby.
He replied in a voice laced with irritation.
“There are two errors in what you said, Oscar. First, you and I aren’t family. Second, I’ve never lived off your back. Got it?”
He had completely discarded the “brother” honorific he’d maintained out of courtesy.
What little affection remained had evaporated entirely. With a full-scale war over the dukedom looming in the near future, he had decided there was no point in upholding unnecessary politeness anymore.
Oscar flared up and shot back at Damian’s words.
“You bastard! Didn’t you hold that press conference back then and spread the illegitimate child rumors everywhere? That’s the same as living off my expense!”
“If you hadn’t tried to frame me first, none of this would have happened. You’re blaming others for a disaster you brought on yourself.”
Unable to refute that, Oscar fumed with a resentful expression. Damian cast a pitying glance and turned his head away.
Glaring at Damian’s sharp, chiseled profile, Oscar soon lifted his chin defiantly.
“Hmph, arrogant punk! Let’s see how long you can keep that nose in the air. I’m not going to go easy on you anymore either.”
A smug confidence spread across Oscar’s face, but Damian, who hadn’t bothered to look, missed it entirely.
Infuriated by his brother’s complete disregard, Oscar ground his teeth and snapped.
“I’m going to win starting with today’s match. Just watch, you brute who only knows how to swing a sword mindlessly.”
“Do as you like, you brute who only knows how to swing your lower half mindlessly.”
Damian let out a scoffing chuckle and pulled on the reins.
Oscar, surging with anger, was about to spit out a curse when the herald’s shout rang out.
“The match begins!”
The first to bolt forward among the participants was Damian.
Having had to navigate all sorts of dangerous situations to survive until now, he was highly skilled at handling horses.
Even though this was their first time together, the bay horse followed Damian obediently. It was remarkably intelligent, turning and moving exactly as he desired while charging ahead.
‘I don’t particularly covet any special prize.’
Lowering his body to urge the horse faster, Damian thought.
‘But I should at least earn a kiss from my wife.’
The warning Oscar had thrown earlier had already evaporated from his mind. That’s how little of a threat Oscar posed to him.
By the time they had circled halfway through the forest, the race’s outcome was becoming clear. The gap between the top group, including Damian, and the rest was widening steadily.
Two riders were desperately chasing Damian. One was Prince Noah from the Kingdom of Kale, and the other, surprisingly, was Oscar.
‘If there’s one thing I’m confident in, it’s riding—even if I’m hopeless at everything else!’
Unlike his half-brother, who was naturally athletic, Oscar had been trained in equestrianism from a young age, and it was the one thing he excelled at despite his clumsiness.
He gritted his teeth and closed in tightly on Damian’s tail.
‘Just a little more, just a bit closer…!’
Even as he drew right up alongside, Damian didn’t spare Oscar a single glance, focusing solely on driving his horse forward indifferently.
Oscar had always hated that about Damian—the way he ignored his blatant presence, as if he were the true legitimate son, attending only to his own business.
It was exactly how Oscar treated servants, so being on the receiving end fueled an inescapable inferiority complex.
‘This is ridiculous… How long do you think you can stay above me!’
The finish line was gradually drawing nearer. The crowd cheered, awaiting the one who would cross first.
Oscar roughly gauged the remaining distance and stole a sideways glance. The relentless Damian only accelerated, never slowing down.
He deliberately stuck close to Damian while riding and pulled a small pouch from inside his jacket. Then, seizing the moment, he flung the powder inside toward Damian’s horse.
“Heeeyah—!”
The moment it inhaled the powder, the horse, which had been galloping obediently, suddenly grew agitated. Despite Damian’s desperate attempts to calm it, his efforts were futile.
“Ugh, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden!”
“I’m going on ahead, Damian.”
Oscar, tossing a smug remark at Damian as he struggled to rein in his rearing horse, gleefully charged toward the finish line.
Damian instinctively sensed that Oscar had pulled some kind of trick, but he couldn’t confront him right then and there.
“Whoa, whoa…!”
It was because a major accident was about to happen—he was on the verge of colliding with Prince Noah, who had been racing closely behind them.
‘Injuring a prince from another kingdom would be a disaster.’
If someone had to get hurt, it was better that it was just him. Making a split-second decision before the situation spiraled further, Damian yanked the reins hard.
“Heeeyah!”
The horse reared, its front hooves lifting as it let out a shrill cry. Damian narrowly managed to steer its head away from Prince Noah’s path.
Thanks to that, the prince passed by unscathed, but it left Damian in even greater peril.
The horse, charging at full speed, crashed into a tree and recoiled violently. Naturally, Damian could no longer hold on and was thrown from the saddle.
If he fell like this, he’d likely break at least an arm or a leg. If luck wasn’t on his side, he might even damage his neck.
Having already steeled himself to lose a limb, Damian curled his body to protect his neck and spine as much as possible. It was then—
“Damian!”
A familiar voice pierced the air with a scream-like sharpness. At the same moment, a powerful gust of wind enveloped his airborne body.
Aracila, positioned where she could clearly see the racecourse, had witnessed the accident and cast a protective spell.
Thanks to the excessively potent shield of magic, Damian landed on the ground with all his limbs intact.
As soon as he touched down safely, Aracila vaulted over the spectator stands.
“Woo! I’m number one! I, Oscar Vandemir—argh!”
She shoved past Oscar, who was obliviously cheering in triumph after crossing the finish line first, and raced forward.
Oscar stumbled, his feet tangling as he fell, shouting something in protest, but she ignored him. With only Damian in her mind, she rushed frantically to her husband’s side.
“Damian, are you okay?!”
“I’m fine. Was that your magic, my lady?”
“Yes. I mean, how did this happen? Your horse was so well-behaved!”
Damian gave a curt nod, his icy gaze fixed on Oscar. Oscar, who had been brushing off his clothes with a grumble, flinched under the weight of that stare.
Then, whistling nonchalantly, he feigned innocence with shameless audacity.
“Thank you for saving me, my lady. Let’s go.”
After offering his thanks, Damian took Aracila’s arm and walked toward the finish line.
The crowd, having forgotten the race entirely due to the accident, had gathered and was whispering among themselves. Truly, only Oscar had been reveling in his victory.
“Sir Vandemir, are you alright?”
“Yes, thanks to my wife, I’m unharmed.”
“But why did your horse act up like that all of a sudden?”
At a noble’s question, Damian responded in a voice as cold as frost.
“I suspect my dear brother might know something about that.”
“Lord Vandemir?”
“Yes. For some reason, my horse started acting strangely right after he passed by me.”
At that, all eyes turned sharply toward Oscar.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying Lord Vandemir attacked his own brother?”
“No way… Would he really endanger his own sibling just to take first place?”
“But the accident did happen right after they were riding so close together. It is a bit suspicious.”
As the crowd began to murmur, Oscar hesitated for a moment, visibly flustered, before puffing out his chest and responding boldly.
“Don’t pin this on me, Damian. You handled your horse poorly, so why are you blaming me?”
“My horse was running perfectly fine until it suddenly went wild. Are you saying that has nothing to do with you?”
“Maybe that horse just couldn’t handle its rider’s rough treatment. Were you pushing it too hard because you were afraid of losing to me?”
Buoyed by the satisfaction of beating Damian for the first time, Oscar’s arrogance soared to new heights.
The reason he could act so brazenly innocent was that he didn’t care in the slightest that his victory had been achieved through underhanded means.
He tilted his chin up, looking down on Damian—or at least attempting to, though the height difference didn’t quite produce the effect he intended.
Damian furrowed his brow at Oscar’s shameless deflection. He was certain of his suspicions, but the lack of tangible evidence was the problem.
“Hm, seeing how confidently Lord Vandemir carries himself, it’s a bit confusing. Maybe it’s not true after all.”
“Exactly. Would he really attack his own brother to the point of death? They were riding close, sure, but it didn’t look like he directly harmed the horse.”
“Maybe Sir Vandemir is mistaken? He might be overly sensitive and suspecting someone who was just nearby.”
The crowd’s sentiment began to shift in Oscar’s favor.
Frowning at the unfavorable turn of events, Damian suddenly recalled how Oscar had kept fidgeting with his chest pocket. He spoke up abruptly.
“Then, would you mind if we checked your jacket pocket?”
“…What?”
Oscar’s complexion shifted in an instant. Though he tried to hide it, his face betrayed a palpable sense of crisis as he shot back.
“Why my pocket?”
“Because I have a feeling the cause of the horse’s frenzy is in there.”
“Hah, no! What gives you the right to dare search me?!”
“It’s not a full body search—I’m just asking to check your inner pocket. Why are you reacting so defensively? It’s like you have something to hide.”
Those golden eyes bored into Oscar with piercing sharpness. Instinctively, he twisted his body, pulling back the left side of his chest where Frederick’s gift was tucked away.
If this gets exposed here, it’s all over. This was his hard-earned shot at redemption, bestowed by the crown prince himself; losing even this would send his parents into a rage.
“No, the very act of rummaging through my pocket is treating me like a criminal! I absolutely refuse, so drop it. If you’re so desperate to check, go ahead and report me to the imperial family this time.”
The crowd buzzed loudly as they realized his final words were a sarcastic jab at the incident involving Marquis Grant’s accusation.
There was a blend of astonishment at Oscar for brazenly raising such a touchy subject and curiosity about whether Damian would truly go so far as to denounce his own brother.
Damian, observing Oscar’s unyielding resolve to guard that left pocket at any cost, was contemplating whether he might need to resort to force.
“Lord Vandemir, come now—don’t be difficult. Cooperate. It’s not about labeling you a culprit; think of it as a chance to dispel any injustice against you.”
Lucas stepped forward from the encircling crowd.
Though he hadn’t joined today’s competition, he was present as one of the delegates on the emperor’s orders.
He had been watching the race from a distance and, startled when Damian’s horse began to buck wildly, had dashed out of the tent.
“We’re not asking to strip you bare for inspection—just a peek at your jacket’s inner pocket. Why get so worked up over it?”
With his signature smooth, ingratiating smile, Lucas subtly applied pressure on Oscar.
Oscar, who could be rude to Damian but not to a prince, hesitated, and in that pause, the onlookers began to chime in one by one, siding with Lucas.
“Exactly—what’s the harm in showing your jacket pocket? Why make such a scene?”
“If it were me, I’d whip off the jacket entirely. Proving my innocence? That’s nothing.”
“Is the lord really hiding something in that jacket pocket? That’s why he’s acting this way, isn’t it?”
Cold sweat trickled down Oscar’s spine as he found himself increasingly backed into a corner.
Damian stood resolute like an unyielding pillar, with Lucas and the spectators looming behind him like an immovable mountain. There seemed no way out.
It was in that moment that a profound despair cast its shadow over Oscar’s ashen face.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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