Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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“Lady Georgiana,” came the stiff voice over the speakers.

At the other end of the course, Lady Georgiana, an equine young woman; long nose and thin face, taller than almost all present, began to ride. I sighed; she was the 9th person to go, and the course was almost 10 minutes long.

As long as a piece of string.

Yeah, you see, that doesn’t work.

Why not?

Because you wouldn’t get a piece of string as long as the course.

You wanna bet?

Er...

I must have sighed rather hard as I broke away from the one group only to pursue my way to the next, because Philippe accosted me.

“Are you ok?” he asked concerned.

“Fine,” I replied.

“Oh,” he said, “Will you watch me riding in a minute?”

“If you’d like,” I said, stifling another sigh.

“Sadly I can’t ride Siri, that’s my stallion back home,” he explained, “But the head groom – wonderful chap – found me a magnificent race horse. Called Sugar.”

“Oh, I know her.”

“You do? She’s certainly beautiful.”

“Lovely colour,” I added.

“Certainly.”

Urgh! Stop repeating that word!

What word?

Certainly!

Hah, you said it!

Argh!

James advanced on us, giving a slight frown in Philippe’s direction.

“You riding in a moment, Philippe?” he asked.

“Straight after you,” Philippe nodded.

James gave a stiff nod. I raised an eyebrow.

Do I detect a slight rivalry?

“May the best man win?” Philippe asked, sticking out a hand to shake.

May the best human win, you mean.

What about the horses?

I don’t think they mind who goes round a stupid course fastest. Just whether they got oats or hay for tea.

“Yes,” James said, shaking the hand stiffly.

Neither seemed eager to be the first to let go.

“James,” I interrupted, “I think you’re up.”

“Oh.”

They broke apart reluctantly.

If we’d have waited one minute…

James headed off, taking the reins from a groom who stood nearby with Falcon, mounting up and trotting to the start. Philippe sat down next to me, casually crossing his legs, though I could see his foot jiggling nervously.

“Is he a good rider?” he asked.

“I haven’t seen him race, but we went out the other day. He seemed competent,” I replied.

“Uhuh,” Philippe said, swallowing.

“The Earl of Aramathia, James Jacinthe,” called the voice over the speaker.

At the other end of the course James urged Falcon into an immediate gallop. He rode fast, only clipping the edge of one jump, finishing well ahead of most of the other riders. Philippe nodded as James finished and his time was announced, standing up and anxiously pacing over to Sugar, who stood patiently with a groom.

“His majesty, Prince Philippe of Lorainya.”

I want to strangle that annoying voice…

Strangle away.

Where’s it coming from?

Good point.

James turned up next to me, pulling off his gloves roughly.

“He’s fast,” he said gruffly.

“Sugar’s fast,” I replied, “He rides well though.”

James nodded.

Philippe finished, his time read over the speakers.

“Damn!” swore James.

“What?” I asked.

“He’s exactly the same time as me with penalties!”

“Without?”

James didn’t say anything.

“Faster?” I added.

“Faster,” he growled.

I laughed.

“What?”

“You just sound so grumpy!” I replied, "It’s just a race.”

“Yeah… just a race.”

“Well what is it then?”

“It’s about honour, Phil!”

I snorted, then stopped when I saw the look on James’ face.

“Yes,” I said seriously, “Honour.”

I stood up, taking a deep breath.

“Where are you going?” James asked.

I thought a moment.

“Princess duties,” I lied.

I walked away from the party and towards the stables, where Peter stood out of sight holding Anoushka, already saddled and ready. I stroked her nose for a moment, then went to pick up my switch and riding hat.

“How’s Freya?” I asked Peter.

“Going fine, we had an ultrasound the other day,” he replied.

“And?”

“Both perfectly healthy by the looks of things.”

“Good,” I sighed.

“You’ve got about five minutes,” Peter reminded me.

“Thanks,” I said, swinging my leg up and over.

I took a moment to canter up and down the courtyard, letting Anna stretch her legs, though not enough to tire her out already. There was only one person in between me and Philippe; the Lord Gregory. Then I was the last to ride, the 13th.

Unlucky for some.

Lucky for us?

Hopefully…

I heard the speakers crackle with Lord Gregory’s time, so I began to trot towards the start. Nobody looked up as I passed, they were chattering amongst themselves. Philippe was the current leader, thinking he had it in the bag. Maybe he did… I gritted my teeth.

I had to come at a respectable time, or I’d look like a complete idiot.

Plus, I want to put James in his place for not kissing me sooner.

It was hardly a proper kiss.

Well, that’s just another reason to beat him.

“Her Majesty Princess Meredith of Adria,” called the intercom, a slight hint of interest entering the monotonous tone.

Heads snapped up, frowning and curious, but I was already riding.

I urged Anna forward quickly, flicking the switch against my own thigh in anxiety. Teeth gritted, I took the first jump easily. The scenery seemed to fly past, but I knew better than to be deceived; the course was longer than it looked. I nearly swore when Anna shied on the seventh, but she didn’t drop me and we simply went round in a tight circle.

I finished, thankfully without any other error.

James came over to take my reins before a groom could, Philippe following close behind with a gaggle of nobles.

“Bravo!” called Lady Georgiana.

“Nice one!” called a younger lad, quickly adding ‘majesty’ to the end.

Lord Gregory simply sniffed and gave a brisk nod of his head. Then my time came over the intercom, a crackly buzz to my stinging ears. Suddenly people were clapping and cheering, James laughing in disbelief, Philippe frowning but smiling at the same time.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“You beat all of us!” Lady Georgiana replied, “ten seconds faster than the Prince.”

“I did?” I cried in disbelief.

“You did!” she cried.