WTSP - 29

Today was the long-awaited spring festival of the Carlot Empire—a day all citizens had been anticipating.

From early morning, the servants moved about with motor-like speed, their hurried footsteps echoing through the halls.

The chaos was so intense that the sound of shattering glass rang out every hour as plates met the floor in pieces. Each time, the head steward’s shouts followed suit.

Dressed in the hunting attire Madam Ruavle had delivered yesterday, I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

The beige pants were cut like modern boot-cut trousers, with flared hems that allowed freedom of movement without constriction around the thighs or calves. It felt effortless to wear.

“If only I’d worn something like this sooner.”

The fabric was thick enough to handle the temperature fluctuations of early spring, providing warmth and comfort.

As always, Lena and Evlin showered me with compliments, fawning over my appearance.

Looking at my snow-white hair, reminiscent of a pristine mountain range, their praise didn’t feel entirely unwarranted.

Had Ophelia Meredith not been one of the Emperor’s consorts, dozens—perhaps hundreds—of men would surely have pursued her.

“Well then, shall we go? We’ve got about thirty minutes left, right?”

“Yes, Your Highness! The other noble ladies have likely already arrived at the hunting grounds.”

“Speaking of which, didn’t Her Majesty the Empress and Lady Yuriel say they wouldn’t attend?”

“That’s correct. Both announced beforehand that they wouldn’t participate. Perhaps they aren’t confident in physical activities?”

Evlin hastily clapped her hands over her mouth after blurting out the speculation.

Even though neither was present, her comment bordered on disrespectful for discussing royalty so casually.

She glanced nervously around, but I couldn’t help but chuckle softly at her unease.

“The Empress probably doesn’t enjoy such gatherings. That’s perfectly fine.”

“By the way, Your Highness, what shoes will you be wearing? What about those low-heeled flats His Majesty gifted you?”

“They’re comfortable enough, but still not ideal.”

Instead, I pointed to navy leather shoes resembling loafers—one of the more tolerable pairs sent by Madam Ruavle. Tailored precisely to my measurements, they fit perfectly, almost like Cinderella’s glass slippers. Awkwardly self-conscious, I shook off the thought.

“I don’t need to bring a bow, right? Oh no, look at the time. Let’s hurry.”

With a lighter outfit than usual, I stepped out of the Empress’s quarters alongside Lena and Evlin.

Once outside, the warm spring sunlight caressed my shoulders gently. The air was crisp and refreshing, free of humidity.

Lena and Evlin chattered cheerfully about the beautiful weather as they trailed behind me.

Fortunately, the hunting grounds weren’t far away.

“My goodness, there are so many people! It seems every noble in the empire has gathered here.”

Lena’s eyes widened in astonishment.

Indeed, the entrance to the hunting grounds was crowded with attendees. At a glance, there must have been over a hundred people.

As we approached, two knights from the royal guard stationed at the gate bowed deeply to me.

Their initial surprise vanished in an instant.

“Empress Ophelia.”

“I’m not too late, am I?”

“Not at all. There are still twenty minutes before the start. Shall I escort you to the waiting area?”

One knight, his voice deep like a cavern, gestured politely to the right.

It seemed separate waiting areas had been prepared for men and women.

I nodded and strode confidently forward.

After walking just a short distance, the space designated for noblewomen and young ladies came into view.

As expected, all eyes turned to me the moment I entered. Though unintended, it was an entirely predictable reaction.

“Oh, dear heavens. Is that…?”

“Yes, it’s Empress Ophelia. I saw her at the imperial ball last time.”

“What an unpredictable person. And what indecent attire!”

Most of the women stopped their conversations to stare openly at me. Some hid amused smiles behind their fans.

Lena and Evlin beside me clenched their lips tightly, trying to maintain composure. The sudden shift in atmosphere clearly unsettled them.

I slowly turned my head to survey the surroundings. The ages of the gathered nobles ranged from teens to fifties, each holding varying ranks. Among them, I spotted a few familiar faces.

They formed small groups scattered across the area, but the largest cluster revolved around Second Empress Melia.

“It’s been a while, Ophelia. Did you decide to become a man? Your outfit is quite… unusual.”

“Yes, Lady Melia. It’s been some time. I simply chose attire suited for a hunting tournament.”

Melia’s sarcasm wasn’t surprising; every other woman wore dresses or skirts, making my choice stand out starkly.

Though no one wore elaborate party gowns, no one else sported pants like mine either.

Most opted for corset-free dresses, creating a uniformity among the attendees—from teenage girls to middle-aged noblewomen.

Melia herself wore a crimson mini-dress that matched her fiery red hair, its knee-length hem adorned with fluttering lace.

To someone from the modern world, her outfit seemed better suited for a ball than a hunt. Yet, to them, my appearance was the oddity.

“True, women sometimes wear riding habits over riding pants, so perhaps my choice seems strange. But I don’t regret having tailored these hunting clothes.”

Comfort aside, it was frustrating how others failed to appreciate the practicality.

The hunting tournament was largely superficial anyway. Anyone truly serious about winning wouldn’t have come dressed in impractical attire.

Brushing imaginary dust off my spotless shirt cuffs, I added nonchalantly:

“One should value inner beauty over outer appearances, Lady Melia. After all, even the most beautiful face loses its charm if the soul rots within.”

I smiled sweetly as I passed by her, ignoring the irritated energy radiating behind me.

Eager for the tournament to begin, I sat at an empty table nearby.

“Empress Ophelia, isn’t it?”

Just as I closed my eyes to rest, a youthful voice chimed in.

Opening my eyes, I found myself looking at a girl who appeared barely fifteen, her braided red hair reminiscent of Anne Shirley.

“That’s right… Who are you?”

She looked too young for formal address, yet she plopped down in front of me without hesitation, her freckled cheeks glowing.

“You shouldn’t pay attention to what that mean sister says. I really like your outfit!”

“Mean sister? You don’t mean Lady Melia?”

“Yeah, but keep it a secret. My family would freak out if they knew.”

Her gray eyes sparkled earnestly. Clearly, she genuinely admired my attire. Was this child also participating in the tournament? A fleeting question crossed my mind.

“I actually hate wearing dresses too. I trip over them all the time. I’m so glad you wore pants!”

“Thank you. But what’s your name? Surely you didn’t come alone…”

“Huh? They’re blowing the whistle! I’ve got to go! You must win first place, okay? Fight hard for me too!”

The pigtailed girl dashed off before I could ask anything more, vanishing into the crowd. For someone so small, she was surprisingly fast.

At that moment, Lena and Evlin approached to inform me the tournament was starting.

“Your Highness! It’s time to choose your bow and weapons. Hurry before the good ones are taken!”

“Alright, let’s go before it’s too late.”

Adjusting my outfit, I followed where they led.

So it begins.

Puu, puu. The deep call of a whistle pierced the tranquil spring noon.