Horsemanship Practice (Part 1)

Time flew by like a white steed, day and night rushing past... though it sounds like the opening of an elementary school essay.

Alright, it's been a year since I came here.

I stood in front of the mirror, hands on my hips, looking at the person inside with compliant eyes.

My blonde drill twin-tails had grown even longer.

My eyes were slightly upturned like a phoenix's, with emerald green pupils. My face had matured a little more than before, the baby fat receding, and the line of my chin was sharper.

My height had probably increased by two or three centimeters, but I was still short. My arms were thin, my wrists slender, and my whole body looked like a slightly elongated blonde bean sprout.

No matter what, this was truly myself. As someone whose 'preference' included tsundere young ladies, the blonde hair and petite figure were definitely in my strike zone.

I really wonder what I'll turn into in a few more years.

Anyway, with the help of the maid, I put on my white riding attire. The cuffs were tightened, the collar stood up, and a dark blue belt was fastened around my waist.

The skirt was shorter than my usual gowns.

It reached just to my knees.

Below were white riding breeches and black ankle boots.

How should I put it? It looked quite authentic.

“...Mm.”

The blonde girl in the mirror nodded, her expression serious, as if scrutinizing a beautiful stranger's portrait.

Then, I followed the servant out of the room.

Today's home lesson was horsemanship. It wasn't my first time. Living in a noble family meant having many private tutors; all lessons were held at the manor, with the teachers dressed in formal wear, respectfully deferential.

It would probably be... a year from now until I would go to grammar school, and the story would officially begin.

To put it plainly, this was all a training phase.

The equestrian grounds on the east side of the manor were extensive.

White fences enclosed an oval-shaped arena, the ground covered in fine sand that felt soft underfoot. Along the edge of the arena was a row of stables, housing five or six horses.

The largest black horse was named 'Nightwind,' said to be Father's mount, though I'd never seen him ride it. Beside it, the chestnut horse named 'Chestnut' belonged to Mother.

Next to them was a small gray horse, its mane neatly combed, its eyes as gentle as a large dog's.

Its name was 'Gray-gray'.

It was my horse.

To be precise, it was Loris's horse.

I couldn't help it; the name was chosen when I first started horsemanship lessons that year. Otherwise, with my taste, it probably would have been called 'Shining Night Jade Lion'.

Pretty wild, cool, and over-the-top, right?

After all, Changshan Zhao Zilong is the romance of men. I really like the image of loyalty and righteousness. I can still hum that line from the old version of Three Kingdoms: ♫Though we haven't sworn brotherhood, our fate was sealed in a past life♫.

I walked up to Gray-gray's stable, and it immediately came over, nudging its wet nose into my palm.

Seeing this, I took a small piece of apple, a horse treat, from my pocket. Then I opened my palm, and Gray-gray lowered its head, its lips rubbing against my palm, tickling me, before taking the apple into its mouth and crunching loudly.

“Good boy.”

I stroked its nose bridge. Gray-gray snorted, spraying my hand with slobber.

“...Good boy?”

I expressionlessly wiped my hand on its mane.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

“Sister.”

I turned my head.

Eliot stood there.

He was wearing a dark gray riding outfit, his silver short hair shimmering faintly in the sunlight. The young boy's height was already catching up to mine—though that was nothing to be proud of, as I wasn't tall to begin with.

His features were more defined than half a year ago:

The arch of his brows, the line of his nose, the shape of his chin—all began to show a hint of boyish maturity.

His emerald green eyes were similar to mine, but rounder, lacking some of my 'upturned' aggression and possessing more gentleness.

He was quite handsome. He'd probably be very popular when he grew up.

Of course, I wouldn't say that out loud. After all, my image was that of a villainess older sister, hehehehe. As someone who once had a younger sister, this kind of unrestrained bullying of a younger generation was an unprecedented thrill.

Of course, I'd stop before going too far. After all, I hadn't forgotten the most terrifying plotline and was still trying to find a way to survive.

“Why are you so slow?”

“S-Sorry... it took some time to change...”

Eliot lowered his head, a reprimanded reaction.

I noticed a small red mark on his neck, probably from the collar being too tight. His clothes weren't put on neatly either; the button on his left cuff was in the wrong hole, making it crooked.

He was probably practicing dressing himself. His personality was quite good, well-regarded compared to me, who enjoyed treating servants badly.

“...Come here.”

Eliot froze for a moment, then walked over cautiously, each step tentative, like approaching a cat ready to pounce.

I helplessly extended my hand.

He instinctively flinched, pulling his neck back.

Then my hand landed on his collar.

“...Huh?”

“Your button's wrong. Are you an idiot?”

I unbuttoned his cuff and re-fastened it. When my fingers brushed his wrist, his skin felt slightly warm from embarrassment. I loosened the top button a bit to make his neck more comfortable.

“Pay attention next time. It would be an embarrassment to the Aldheim family if word got out.”

“...”

Eliot was too embarrassed to speak.

I looked up at him; he had his head down, his reaction a mix of being scolded and shy, blushing from his earlobes all the way to the tips of his ears.

He was probably feeling guilty.

His emerald green eyes were cast down, his eyelashes trembling slightly.

“...Did you hear me?” I maintained my stern demeanor, wanting him to look up. Why was his personality so weak?

“Y-Yes, I heard you.”

His voice was as soft as a mosquito's.

I wanted to say more but held back, finally waving my hand and turning to Gray-gray. It wasn't that I wanted to be so harsh; hadn't he noticed I had considerately helped him with his buttons just now? The verbal attacks were to mask my kindness towards my younger brother; this was the only way I could subtly alter the plotline.

Though to outsiders, everyone would think I treated him terribly.

...

A moment later.

“Mount your horses, both of you. Today, we'll practice trotting.”

The horsemanship tutor arrived as scheduled. He never interfered much, but upon seeing me, he would nervously take out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow.

Then, silence fell for a few seconds behind me. I heard Eliot's footsteps as he walked towards his cyan horse.

His horse was named 'Azure Mist,' a year older than Gray-gray and more spirited.

He stepped into the stirrup, his movement to mount the horse fluid, much better than when he first started a month ago. I also stepped into the stirrup, gripped the pommel, and pushed hard—but didn't get on.

My short height was a disadvantage.

One more time.

Pushed hard—and I was on.

Gray-gray twitched its ears, looking back at me with an expression that seemed to say, 'Are you heavier again?'

Although I never cared about my weight—after all, that was something only girls worried about—this silly horse's gaze annoyed me, so I patted its head.

Soon, its eyes became as clear as my brother's.

“Walk two laps around the arena to warm up.”

The horsemanship tutor instructed.

I pulled on the reins, and Eliot also nodded. He gently squeezed his horse's flanks. Azure Mist began to walk, its hooves making dull thuds on the sand.

Gray-gray followed behind, step by unhurried step, like an old man out for a stroll.

The sun was bright, and the October wind blew from afar, carrying the scent of the maple leaves at the edge of the equestrian grounds. The maple leaves had already begun to turn red, green tinged with red, red with yellow, layered upon layered, like someone had spilled a palette of paints across the sky.

I looked at Eliot ahead of me.

He sat very straight on the horse's back, his spine as rigid as if measured by a ruler. He held the reins properly, heels down, knees pressed against the saddle—his posture was standard.

He had made great progress this past month.

From barely being able to sit steadily at first, to now being able to control a horse independently, he had fallen countless times. Each time he fell, I would stand by and say, 'So stupid,' 'You can't even learn this,' 'You're disgracing the Aldheim family.'

Sarcasm was also an unavoidable part of the experience.

I felt like I'd gone from a villainess to a mischievous brat.

Of course, I would also offer praise, though much less than my sarcastic remarks, because the limitations of the plot system prevented me from making significant changes.

“Sister.”

Eliot ahead suddenly spoke.

“Mm.”

“Next year's Royal Capital Horsemanship Competition... will you come to watch?”

I paused.

Royal Capital Horsemanship Competition? It seemed to be a traditional autumn event among noble youths each year.

Most participants were youths aged nine to fifteen, grouped by age. Events included show jumping, dressage, and speed racing. Eliot had just turned nine last month, meeting the minimum age for participation.

“You want to participate?”

“Father said... I should try it.”

Oh, that old geezer. Given his personality, he would indeed do that. Having lived here for a year, I clearly understood the gloomy atmosphere of this family.

My younger brother's voice held a hint of caution.

“Then go ahead,” I said indifferently. “Don't come back to me if you don't place.”

“...Yes.”

He lowered his head, his voice muffled.

He probably wanted me to encourage him. I really wanted to cheer him on, but I couldn't; Heaven's will was watching.

A few minutes later, the warm-up ended, and we began practicing trotting.

I gently squeezed Gray-gray's flanks, and it switched from a walk to a trot. Its steps were steady, its rhythm even, a gentle bobbing motion, like sitting in a small boat.

My body rose and fell with its rhythm, my seat lightly leaving the saddle, my knees and ankles absorbing the vibrations.

I had grown quite fond of horse riding over the past half-year.

At first, it was just to acquire another skill, but then I thought, what if I needed to ride a horse to escape someday? With that thought, I would come to the equestrian grounds at least three times a week.

As I practiced, it became a daily routine.

Moreover, Gray-gray was a good horse, gentle, patient, and never spooked suddenly, much like the son of Big Bad Wolf.

I had only fallen once, because I hadn't sat steadily. I remembered that time it stopped, looked back at me, and nudged my face with its nose, as if asking, 'Are you okay?'

I was fine.

Just my backside hurt.

“Too slow.”

Snapping back to reality, I caught up to Eliot and rode beside him.

“At this pace, you'll be left behind in a race.”

“...Yes.”

He gently squeezed his horse's flanks.

Azure Mist sped up, transitioning from a trot to a canter.

Sand kicked up by the hooves splashed onto my calves. I was momentarily speechless, then decided to swallow it.

This kid really does whatever he's told.

I chased after him, and the two horses ran side-by-side in the arena.

The wind whistled past my ears, and Eliot's silver hair was blown back by the wind, revealing his smooth forehead.

His expression was very serious, his lips slightly pursed, his emerald green eyes focused on what was ahead. On horseback, he was a completely different person from the 'rabbit' who usually kept his neck tucked in.

I suddenly remembered something.

It was about three months ago, I think. When I went to the equestrian grounds, I happened to run into Eliot and a few of his friends of the same age. They were all children from noble families: a count's second son, a marquis's young master, and a few squire knights of similar age. They were gathered around Azure Mist's stable, chattering away.

I stood far away, scratching my head, and didn't go over to eavesdrop.

“Eliot, is your sister really that scary?”

A brown-haired boy asked.

Eliot's expression became subtle in that instant. He straightened his back, his tone calm: “Don't speak of Big Sister that way.”

“But everyone's saying... the Aldheim family's young lady has a very bad temper...”

“I said.”

Eliot interrupted him, his voice not loud, but very clear.

“Don't speak of Big Sister that way.”

The brown-haired boy flinched, then awkwardly fell silent. The young master from the Marquis family quickly smoothed things over: “Alright, alright, let's not talk about that. Eliot, can you teach us that horsemanship move you did last time again?”

Eliot nodded and mounted his horse.

Having only studied for a month, he possessed outstanding talent. Whether it was hard work, natural gift, or a combination of both, his demeanor was very composed, completely different from the timid appearance he had in front of me.

He demonstrated a sharp turn, clean and fluid, and his friends applauded.

“Eliot's amazing!”

“Teach us another one, teach us another one!”

He smiled slightly, a faint but natural smile. It wasn't the cautious smile he showed in front of me; it was a genuine, heartfelt smile, one he would only show when with friends.

I guess I suppressed him too much normally.

After all, according to the original plotline, he was driven to PTSD and became a shut-in hikikomori at home.

But it was good. I was happy for him; at least in this worldline, he could smile. The only flaw was that as his older sister—a good older brother who once had a younger sister—I couldn't give him a happy childhood.

Instead, it was a childhood of 'a slap with a date.' I'm truly sorry.

—Speaking of which.

So, my little brother is like this in front of others.

Generous, composed, admired by friends, smiling as he taught others—he was practically two different people compared to the timid rabbit who cowered in front of me.

But I suppose it wasn't his fault. It was Loris—the original owner—who turned him into this.