“I’m not particularly busy these days.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Ah, and I have a decent eye for picking out the right steeds.”

Evan felt a wave of disappointment wash over him. He had no clue why he had lied that day. In truth, Evan was a complete amateur at appraising horses. Of course, he knew how to saddle and ride a horse, but the ones he rode were always the finest thoroughbreds, handpicked and prepared by the servants. He knew how to choose the right horse, but choosing for personal use was completely different than choosing at the races. And it didn’t help that he had never taken interest in such racing events.

“I can’t stand it when people lie. It’s awful.”

The declaration he said when he first met Laria continued to ring in his head. She would ask Evan various things if he followed her to the races, which meant she’d arrive at two conclusions. One: He was a hypocrite because he couldn’t bear lies yet lied constantly. Or, two: He bragged about things he was completely clueless about.

Worse, Evan had graduated at the top of his class at the academy, but to his dismay, no one had shared that detail with his wife. Everyone’s negligence in informing Laria of that grand fact troubled him deeply, but not as much as his deceit did. He had lied about something he couldn’t take back, so there was only one option now. He had to turn that lie into truth—in two days.

That was why he had been obsessively dedicating himself to the books in the reading room, absorbing all there was to know about the history of horse races: the different breeds, racing fundamentals, and other related topics. He might not have hands-on experience to explain the intricacies like a professional, but sufficient knowledge would be enough to impress Laria and cover his lie.

A few fitful meals were all he ate while he toiled away in the library. At times, he let out long, wistful sighs while questioning his sanity, wondering why he was doing this.

Why? Oh, why do I do this to myself?

Honestly, he had thought she was beautiful when he saw her beside his father. Her feathery rose hair, round violet eyes, and warm cheeks complemented her charming appearance. Her innocent features and petite frame reminded him of a puppy.

There were other charming girls at the academy, of course, but they had avoided approaching him. They either questioned why Duke Icardes’ son was attending their school, or they were put off by his dark, frightening demeanor.

Contrary to his cruel peers, the first words from his wife were, “Congratulations on your graduation.” As soon as Laria said that, he realized he had been unconsciously waiting for those words. Something so mundane and normal for everyone else... Something he didn’t have.

In Evan’s mind, beautiful girls like Laria had always been the most shallow, always quick to judge and avoid him. But he couldn’t deny he did feel somewhat excited when she said, “Let’s be the kind of couple who is sweet and affectionate to each other.” He never expected to hear that from anyone. He wondered if she was around, maybe the estate wouldn’t feel so miserable anymore.

Even her soft touch, like when she had gently run her fingers through his hair, brought him joy. He didn’t want her to think ill of him.

Through sheer will and determination, Evan successfully learned many facts about horses in two nights. He took great care analyzing and choosing a thoroughbred to recommend to Laria. He was ready for the ride to the venue, armed with a host of knowledge. However, Evan fell asleep on the way to the races. By the time he woke, they were already at the grounds.

“Evan! Evan! Wake up. We’ve arrived.”

He woke the moment Laria gently grabbed his hands to stir him awake. Still groggy, he said matter-of-factly, “It’s not night right now so it doesn’t matter if we hold hands. We won’t be able to make a baby. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Her eyes seemed to smile, gently sloping downward like an innocent puppy’s. “I know. I know.”

He held her hand without saying a word and stepped out of the coach.

* * *

The racetrack was lively and filled with festive sounds. There was so much flurry in the venue that I could hardly focus on anything. The sky was a beautiful sheet of blue, and my surroundings were bursting with sights and curiosities.

“Over there. That one is called Ahrovos. A decent stallion to bet on.”

Whenever we came upon a horse, Evan would explain a myriad of facts to me. He spoke to me about distinguishing superior breeds, popular race horses, the bets on each steed, and the relationship between the riders and horses. I was surprised his proclaimed horse expertise wasn’t false.

His knowledge was so expansive that even the duke mentioned his surprise. “Did your studies mostly revolve around steed literature?”

I knew most things from the original work, but Evan’s keen interest in horses was a new detail.

I can see why he wanted to come to the races so desperately. I mean, the boy’s a real aficionado.

Countless people acknowledged us as we strolled through the grounds.

It was eye-opening, and a little sobering, to observe the status and power of the duke. Most people went on about how charming I was and how Evan and I looked so great together, but their eloquence couldn’t hide their insincerity.

“It’s been a long time since I last saw a couple as young as these two. Unquestionably, you two are the epitome of a perfect match.”

I could feel how phony those exaggerated words were, but I didn’t mind the compliments.

“On a family outing, are we, my lord? Such familial love. It warms my soul.”

The shower of kind words solidified my belief that flattery was the key to my survival. After all, everyone drops their guard when they have been praised.

I swung around the surrounding throng of people, noticing that children seldom visited these events without supervision. Even though aristocrats viewed this as an appropriate amusement, they seemingly still required their young children to be chaperoned.

It’s nice to be out here together.

It was our first family outing. Although my motives were primarily financial, my heart fluttered with excitement. It was as if we had embarked on a genuine family excursion.

We weren’t close as a family, not at all, but I was content knowing we were a picturesque trio.

“My Lord Icardes!” At that moment, a middle-aged man sporting a fantastic, long mustache squeezed through the silk and velvet barrier. “I received word you were to grace us with your presence today, your lordship. Per your requests, please allow me to escort you to the finest seats we have to offer.”

The mustachioed man beamed at us and gave a bow. “Greetings, greetings. I’ve been informed of your recent marriage, and I would like to extend my sincerest congratulations. I am Olav Sadvar, the master of these tracks.”

I had to admit one thing: Duke Icardes was truly on another level. He hadn’t yet reached the peak of power among the nobles, but he was still quite above the common gentry. He is so powerful that all he has to do is show up, and the master of the races scampers out to receive him. Wealth and power sure had their perks. He must appreciate power—he was willing to marry his son to a dying girl to gain more of it.

“I appreciate the gesture. I am Evan Linnaeus Icardes, and she is”—Evan cleared his throat before continuing—“my wife, Laria Rose Icardes.”

I gave a deep curtsy, to which the race master answered with a bright smile and clasped hands. “I heard you married so young because of your parents’ untimely passing. I... Well, you see, I took on a wife when I was just fourteen myself,” he said, chuckling and combing his mustache. “Anyway, are the two of you acquainted with the races? Curiosity may have brought you here as a spectator, but the true thrill comes only with bets.”

“That’s a pity,” the duke remarked gruffly. “I’ve little interest in watching horses race.”

How could he, with a straight face, tell the master of the races he wasn’t interested in races? Brutal.

“I reluctantly tagged along, or else my daughter-in-law wouldn’t have left me alone,” the duke explained.

Uh-huh, is that right? The idea of coming here was so awful you instructed them to give us the best seats. A most logic-defying move, but never mind that... His reply was as haughty and eloquent as possible, although there seemed to be no truth or conscience behind it.

“Then may I assume that my lord, Evan, holds no interest in my races either?”

“I believe Verto, Ahrovos, and Khalid deserve equal bets. A trifecta bet, to be specific,” Evan told Olav with confidence.

“Bless my soul! You would place a triple bet... on first, second, and third place?” Olav marveled at the boy’s words. “It appears to me that you’re well-versed in the art of betting, young lord. No serious betters go for trifecta unless they are truly competent in analysis.”

The two went for a while like that, discussing different topics related to horses and the races. And from their conversation, I learned there were many, many types of bets. There was a bet to predict the winner; a bet to pick three horses in the top ten rankings; a bet to predict the first five places—one for every gambler out there! As far as I could tell, Evan had mastered the game already, but I, on the other hand, was clueless.

“Is the young lady at all familiar with the races?” Olav inquired, still maintaining his luminous smile.

“No... I’m afraid I don’t know it well enough...” But I knew one certain thing, something they didn’t know. “So I’m thinking of just betting on a single horse. You know, the most simple wager.”

And I’ll win more money than Evan could ever make today.