She pressed her knees lightly into Shivanar’s sides, urging her forward in measured strides. The mare responded instantly, her powerful legs carving a clean path through the sand.
The wind tore through Reiya’s veil, whipping strands of her hair loose, but she paid it no mind. Annaïs’s stallion was fast—blisteringly so—but speed alone was reckless.
And reckless riders lost races.
The first outcropping appeared, a cluster of uneven rock breaking the smooth dunes.
Annaïs’s horse hesitated for half a heartbeat—a misstep, the stallion’s momentum thrown slightly off as she adjusted too late. She veered sharply to avoid the hazard, losing precious seconds as she fought to regain control.
It was all the opening Reiya needed.
She leaned forward, murmuring into Shivanar’s ear, “Steady now. We know how to handle this.”
The mare flicked her ears back—listening, trusting—before slipping seamlessly into the rocky stretch.
Where Annaïs slowed, Reiya flowed.
She navigated through the winding terrain with precise, practiced ease, shifting her weight just enough to keep their rhythm smooth. Her Aethonian training had prepared her for narrow roads, for pathways requiring balance and control rather than brute speed.
And now, in the heart of the race, it didn’t fail her.
Gasps echoed from the onlookers as she overtook Annaïs in a single, fluid movement.
The open sands stretched ahead once more, the final portion before the finish. Annaïs pushed hard, but it was too late. Shivanar surged forward, hooves barely making a sound against the compacted sand, and with one last effortless stride?—
They crossed the finish first.
The silence lasted only for a beat before a roar of applause erupted from the gathered court.
She slowed Shivanar to a halt, fingers brushing lightly along the mare’s damp neck in a silent praise. Exhilaration thrummed beneath her skin, but she schooled her expression into careful composure.
Annaïs arrived seconds later, smile still intact, but the stiffness in her shoulders betrayed her.
The crowd saw, and so did the king.
Kaelen and Alarik approached, their faces wreathed in smiles. Reiya didn’t miss the pride gleaming in their eyes.
“Well done,” Kaelen murmured for her ears alone.
Alarik wrapped his arm around her waist and brushed a kiss against her cheek.
Neither display went unnoticed.
King Azarion stepped forward, his expression one of open approval. “A spectacular match, wouldn’t you all agree?”
He turned to the gathered nobles, who clapped once more, some even cheering her name.
Then, he turned to Reiya, his gaze keen. “You ride beautifully, Princess. Where did you learn such control?”
Reiya inclined her head, and answered humbly, “In Aethonia, thepaths are narrow, winding through olive groves and cliffside trails where a single misstep could send a rider tumbling into the sea. There, we share our roads with farmers’ carts and merchant wagons, and maneuvering requires patience and precision. I learned early that control matters more than speed—especially when the path ahead is uncertain.”
She let a hint of warmth soften her voice as she added, “The sea teaches resilience, Your Majesty, but the land teaches us to move with intention.”
This time, when the murmurs stirred through the court, they carried not just admiration but respect.
Reiya let her gaze sweep briefly across the gathered nobles before settling, just for a breath, on Annaïs.
Her flawless poise had not faltered, but Reiya saw the flicker in her dark eyes, the one she worked hard to hide. A tinge of frustration. A whisper of something begrudging.
