The final hunting event of spring was scheduled for another Tuesday.
This day symbolized the Eternal Blazing Sun, and the hours from midnight to one, seven to eight in the morning, two to three in the afternoon, and nine to ten at night were all known as "Sun hours." Friday belonged to the God of Artisan, whose "Venus hours" ran from six to seven in the morning, one to two in the afternoon, and eight to nine at night.
Large masses, sacrificial ceremonies, and certain formal public events were generally held on the days and at the hours associated with the relevant god whenever possible. Saint Roch Cathedral's grand Tuesday mass, for instance, was usually scheduled for seven in the morning to welcome the rising sun. In Intis, where the Eternal Blazing Sun was the principal faith, respectable public events carrying an element of blessing were also often held on this day.
Even aristocratic social gatherings have to be this formal, as though they're putting on a show for someone... Sitting in the carriage, Charlotte grumbled inwardly as she listened to the wheels creak along the country road.
The organizer of this hunt was Earl Foulis of Suhit City, and the hunting ground lay on his country estate. September through March of the following year was the ideal season for aristocrats to hunt on horseback. With the season now drawing to a close, quite a few nobles from the surrounding area had caught this "last ride."
When the carriage stopped, Raoul stepped out first, then offered Charlotte a hand.
She carefully lifted her skirts, ducked her head to avoid the doorframe, and stepped onto ground that had clearly been deliberately leveled and cleared of weeds.
Today, she had changed into a woman's riding habit. The fitted, waisted jacket was modeled after a man's short hunting coat, with lapels and conspicuous buttons. Beneath it, she wore a linen underskirt, a waistcoat, and a narrow cravat. Her lower half was still clad in a slit long skirt suited to sidesaddle riding, with adjustments inside to make riding easier. Low-heeled tall riding boots covered her feet, a man's felt tricorn sat on her head, and she held a leather riding crop.
Compared with all those layers of formal gowns, this outfit is practically agile. At least I won't look like a mop dragging across the floor... Grumbling inwardly, she maintained the composure expected of a young noblewoman and held her father's hand as she approached the light-brown mare a servant had led over. Excitement stirred within her.
Before transmigrating, she had never even touched a horse, let alone ridden one!
But once she actually settled into the sidesaddle, she realized it was not so simple. The original Charlotte had indeed learned to ride, and her memories contained experience in adjusting her skirts, hooking her right leg over the saddle pommel, and directing her mount with the reins and her lower leg. Yet this body had not ridden seriously in a long time. The slightest movement of the horse made the awkwardness of riding sidesaddle painfully apparent, and she nearly toppled backward.
Fortunately, the Beyonder power granted by the Arbiter potion came into play.
Charlotte steadied herself, tightened the reins, and let her expression turn slightly stern. Lowering her eyes toward the horse's neck, she exuded an air that brooked no defiance, while a command formed in her mind:
Stay still!
The mare, unsettled by the growing number of people and carriages around them, had been about to turn its head. Suddenly, as though sensing something, its neck muscles tightened, its hooves stopped shifting restlessly, and it grew almost docilely quiet.
It seems an Arbiter's authority doesn't work only on people. It affects animals to some extent, too. I suspect it has something to do with the animal's intelligence, or perhaps its spirituality. A mouse probably wouldn't be frightened of me unless I swung a stick at it... And this influence is more like suppressing a target that's already manageable than taming an animal. If a horse has already panicked and gone out of control, a look won't solve the problem.
She quietly made a note of this, then used her elevated position on horseback to survey the hunting ground.
White tents had been erected on the open lawn. Servants busied themselves arranging tack, leading hunting dogs, and carrying food and drink. Several long tables draped in white cloth were laden with cold roast meat, bread, cheese, and wine.
This was where nobles, officials, and invited guests could rest and mingle. Only the young aristocrats who enjoyed excitement truly intended to venture deep into the woods to hunt. Even among the young ladies who had mounted horses, most merely wore riding habits for a brief ride within the safe area before returning to the tents to discuss marriage, family, and the latest fashions in Trier with the other ladies.
It's like they've moved a ballroom out into the countryside... Charlotte swept her gaze across the crowd and soon spotted Green Randall beside a long table-the man who had helped her at the Printing House and fought alongside Roselle.
He stood beside a respectably dressed middle-aged man whose expression was rather reserved.
Green spotted Charlotte as well and immediately smiled, but he did not approach to greet her. Instead, he touched the brim of his hat and bowed slightly, greeting her from a distance.
That must be his father. It looks like he was invited to the hunt, but sees the other nobles as his social prey... Charlotte returned his smile thoughtfully, then continued scanning the gathering and noticed another figure beside a tent.
The man had the black hair common in Intis, frosted white at the temples. His gray-blue eyes were rather sharp, with deep lines at their corners and across his forehead, and his short beard was meticulously trimmed. He watched the other nobles and guests chatting with a mild expression, yet there was something unapproachable about him.
Just then, Raoul Sauron, mounted on another horse beside her, noticed his daughter's gaze and looked in the same direction. After a moment, he said:
"That is Morvan Durand, a highly respected lawyer in Sushit. Many judges, merchants, and municipal officials know his name. He helped us a great deal with Etienne's case."
A lawyer?
Something stirred in Charlotte's mind.
Etienne, the suspected cultist accomplice, had been a "lawyer" in both the societal and mystical senses. Having only recently become a Beyonder herself, she naturally paid more attention to this profession and could not help taking a closer look at Morvan.
Perhaps sensing her gaze, the guest, who was over fifty, suddenly turned his head toward her.
Charlotte instinctively looked away, pretending to study something else.
Strange. Why would I be afraid of a lawyer? Does he have an aura like an Arbiter or a Lawyer? Or can an ordinary person of genuine standing exert this sort of pressure too...? She pondered it but reached no conclusion.
Beside the area enclosed by the tents and long tables, servants were checking the hunting dogs and horses to prevent the animals from becoming agitated and injuring the earl's guests.
After briefly adjusting to riding sidesaddle, Charlotte wandered around while looking for Roselle. She had only just drawn near when several hunting dogs began barking at her. Their barks were not particularly fierce, but came one after another.
The servant holding their leashes hastily pulled them back.
"Please be careful, miss. They're rather excited today."
Charlotte nodded and did not approach any closer. She simply lowered her gaze toward the dogs, composed her expression, and summoned the same feeling she had used to calm the mare.
The dogs' barking suddenly grew quieter. The two closest to her even lowered their forequarters and tucked their tails, leaving only their noses twitching.
The servant seized the opportunity to lead them away, remembering to glance back at her curiously.
The hunting dogs farther away remained restless. Barking, hoofbeats, and the laughter of the young people soon drowned out this minor disturbance.
Thank goodness. If all the hunting dogs had dropped to the ground and submitted to me at once, I can't imagine what rumors would be circulating tomorrow... Charlotte quietly slipped aside, establishing the approximate range of this Beyonder power in her mind.
The horses and hunting dogs must be reacting out of fear rather than obedience, because I haven't given any actual commands. Even if I said them aloud, they wouldn't understand... Humans capable of thought probably wouldn't be frightened so easily. They would only instinctively feel that they shouldn't defy me. Actual Beyonders, on the other hand, might realize this influence comes from a Beyonder ability...
It seems I can't use this ability carelessly, except in a private, one-on-one setting, or in battle to unsettle an enemy through my words and expressions... As she considered this and prepared to return to her father, she suddenly felt a gaze upon her from behind.
Don't tell me someone's following me again? A surge of resentment rose within her, and she whipped her head around in that direction.
Roselle Gustav stood there.
Today, he wore a well-fitted dark-green hunting coat, with a short hunting knife at his waist and a flintlock pistol tucked into a leather holster. His tricorn sat slightly askew, revealing a face that looked more spirited than Charlotte remembered. His blue eyes studied her thoughtfully.
Charlotte immediately recalled his hesitation to speak at the Printing House, as well as her father's assessment of him.
I was planning to sound him out during the hunt, but he's started observing me first... She maintained a calm smile, unsure whether he had seen her frighten the hunting dogs.