Page 70 of How to Date a Prince

We’re totally exhausted by the end, and the four of us collapse on the green behind the house by the finish line. The crew medic comes to check us out, and we’re told to find shade and rehydrate and are given electrolyte drinks.

Eventually, as we practically sway in exhaustion in the shade of the rose garden at this time of day, Colin films the recap with us. “And to sum up,” he says, “it’s a three-way tie for the triathlon between Wilson, Thomas, and Auggie with no overall event winner. Given the heat, we won’t do a tie-breaker challenger today. So, we’ll give you each a point instead. Which means for the triathlon event, Thomas and Wilson have two points, and Auggie has one. Thomas leads the overall standings, followed by Auggie in second.” Colin gazes at me, amused. “Well, old boy, how badly do you want to win?”

I hold Colin’s gaze steadily. “I’m here to win. I’m highly motivated, in fact.”

“And Thomas?” Colin asks. “How about you?”

“Oh, I’m here to win. Believe me.” Thomas tilts his head, entirely assured. He shrugs. “I’m also highly motivated to beat Auggie in particular.”

“Watch out, gentlemen. You’ve heard them.” Colin chuckles. “Now, I’ll leave you all to cool down and stretch. Remember, tomorrow is the final sporting event of the week—the steeplechase! It’s due to be a thrilling ride through grueling heat. The event is at 11:00 a.m. You can go down to the track for 9:30 a.m. and meet your mounts and walk the course.

“Well, let’s see how everything shakes out tomorrow with our leaders, Thomas and Auggie, and their growing rivalry that we’ve observed the past couple of weeks. State and Crown and all that,” says Colin. “Will one of them win the steeplechase? Or will Wilson come up to steal the lead? Or will we have more surprises in store with a dark horse breaking through? Oh, and will our formerly Olympic track equestrian steal the show tomorrow?” He chuckles. “We have a full field of our eight for tomorrow. Till then, gentlemen!”

There’s a round of mumbles as they try to figure out who was Olympic track. I keep my mouth shut, hurrying away before they figure it out.

ChapterTwenty-Four

The good thing about a triathlon is that it guarantees a solid night’s sleep. Usually. When I’m not up half the night missing Thom. And this morning, we’re in the stables, meeting the horses that have been assigned to us. We’ve already walked the course. More precisely, I’m in my horse’s box stall. For the event, I have a Thoroughbred horse called Midnight, a proven steeplechase champion, according to the stable hand. Midnight nuzzles my chest after I give him chopped-up carrot from the palm of my hand. This morning, I’m trying hard not to think about the tangle of emotions Thomas has left me with, so near the surface, raw and vulnerable.

“That’s all I have, I’m afraid.” I pat his neck, then slip on a halter and lead rope. We have help with the grooms, but I like to personally check my mount before the event, his hooves, and get him ready under my watch.

Thomas is further down the stables with his chestnut horse already in crossties. His horse seems a little more spirited, but the rumor going round this morning that his mount is an elite racer, Elemental Dream, the fastest in the group. Connor’s been looking up the stats on the horses and calling them out down the aisle of the stables.

And now the word’s out about me. I’m getting sharp looks from some of the men, complaining about an unfair advantage. The rumor mill is going overtime that it’s a competition between me and Thomas, and Wilson’s terribly irritated, angling to take the lead.

“Do you feel ready, Auggie?” Colin asks me as I brush down Midnight, who swishes his tail while the film crew records.

“Born ready. I think that’s the phrase, isn’t it?”

Colin chuckles. “Very good. That’s the winning spirit. What do you think of your odds of winning the race today? I understand you are a champion at jumping and eventing yourself.”

“I was, once. A long time ago.” I scratch Midnight’s neck. “And I’ve done steeplechase before, but it’s been some time. But I do like going fast, it’s true.”

“You qualified as a favorite for the Olympics at eighteen and shocked the equestrian world—especially the jumping community—when you withdrew from Olympic competition, after chasing your mother’s lead to establish a new royal tradition.”

My lips twist.

Don’t lose focus. Don’t think about Mum. Or about telling Thom about how much Mum and horses all mean to me. Or how I shut him down.

“Mm,” I acknowledge finally. “It was a complicated time. But I’m ready to race today.”

“That’s what we want to hear.” Colin nods his approval. “I also hear Thomas is a champion rider. Do you have any thoughts on that?”

“Several.” I smile nonchalantly. Riding Thomas has to be the best elite sport of all. My guts twist as I think of him. “But can he keep up with me?”

“We’ll have to see,” agrees Colin, pleased.

I pause with the curry comb in my hand, switching it for a pick. Jill, the stable hand, joins me, and Colin leaves us to get ready.

It’s not too long before we’re ready to go, saddled up. I lead my horse out, then mount easily under the watch of the cameras. I adjust the fuchsia scarf at my throat, my addition to the crimson silk I wear. The sun is blistering. We have an audience of more than the crew to watch us take the course, extras and others associated with the production. It adds to the electric feeling this morning.

Midnight bobs his head, whinnying, picking up on the energy. I’m one of the first out, and we wait to the side. Gradually, they all come out, with Thomas and Wilson one of the last, and we’re given the signal to get ready to start. Then, it’s the three of us jostling for prime position. Wilson’s horse sidesteps into mine. I frown, reaching to adjust a stirrup. Thomas’ horse snorts and stamps, rearing ever so slightly in the crush. But none of us wants to give the other any space. My horse throws back his head. And Wilson presses in.

“Another turn,” calls the announcer over the loudspeaker since we’re not in a level starting position. I’m doing my best to ignore Wilson being an arse. Thomas is focused on his mount, and I’m on mine. This time, the horses and riders even out.

“And they’re off!” calls the announcer.

We thunder down the turf course to the first jump in a series of large hedgerows that will test the courage of all riders and horses. We’re all experienced riders but not all experienced with steeplechase. But I love the thrill of speed, and adrenaline’s already soaring through me like lightning. Midnight flies, and the three of us—myself, Thomas, Wilson—are running neck and neck with our horses, so close it’s tough to call.

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