Bastian
Chapter 18 - The Hunting Ground

✧The Hunting Ground✧

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Odette gazed at the man with a furrowed brow, seated in the stands, as she beheld the captain’s number – 3 – worn by Bastian Klauswitz. It didn’t take long for her to grasp the reason for this commoner’s distinguished position on a team composed of the offspring of prominent families.

As the game unfolded, the player who had deftly secured the ball started sprinting towards the opposing team’s goal post, with Captain Klauswitz – number 3 – leading the charge. Today, he emerged as the shining star of the polo field, earning the title of hero for the Admiralty team.

As the Navy team took control of the game, the excitement in the stands reached a fever pitch. The passionate roars of the fans echoed through the clear sky, drowning out all other sounds. Spectators put aside their worries for a moment and focused solely on the action on the field. And the ladies? Well, they brought out their opera glasses, eager not to miss a single thrilling moment of the match.

Odette sat with poised elegance, watching the game unfold. It had been a decade since her last polo match, but her memories of the sport were still fresh. And with the game’s fluid rhythm, it was easy for her to slip right back into being a fan once again.

The spectators let out a chorus of sighs as one player was thwarted from scoring. Despite the setback, the game continued with unrelenting intensity, far from its original purpose of fostering camaraderie between the two teams. Amid the fast-paced action on the expansive field, Odette’s eyes zeroed in on Bastian, who stood out thanks to the pink ribbon adorning his stick. Despite being an unknown player, he was easy for Odette to spot.

As the man spoke with a calculated tone, Odette couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down her spine. He was cold and ruthless, but it was all part of the game.

She remembered Bastian’s unapologetic greed, which he had never tried to hide. This was the reason why she agreed to his marriage proposal, even though she was aware of it. Though the news of his secret affair with Countess Lenart was unsettling, it was simply a personal matter that had no bearing on their business relationship.

But then, something caught her attention, a pink ribbon tied to Bastian’s polo stick. With that simple gesture, all the confusion in her mind vanished, as she focused her attention on the game.

“Go! Move it! Push harder!”

Suddenly, a thunderous roar erupted from the spectators, who were on their feet, cheering. They were chanting Bastian’s name, as he charged forward with unrelenting determination.

The audience leaped from their seats and began chanting in unison one player’s name. Bastian. That man was the one who was fiercely attacking once more.

Bastian swung the stick hard, sending the ball sailing across the goal as Odette considered how to react.

The Navy’s first goal.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Bastian, sensing his horse’s slowing pace, directed it towards the stables, where fresh mounts were kept. With effortless grace, he made the switch, hopping from one horse to another, and galloped onto the field atop a white stallion known to be the fastest of all the polo horses.

The sound of clashing polo sticks filled the air as Bastian skillfully wrested the ball from his opponent and aimed for the enemy goalpost. The game was at its climax, the offense and defense constantly shifting, with the final score tied in a nail-biting showdown.

Bastian galloped away at full speed after once more launching the ball a long distance. The Army captain, who had been denied possession of the ball he had grabbed in front of the goalpost, ran after him in a rage. It didn’t take long for a corner battle involving eight horses to break out when the players from both teams to arrive to assist and to join in.

Bastian, galloping forward with a small gap, leaned his upper body and put all of his weight on the left hand that was gripping the reins. Even though he was still far from the goal, the tenacious defense made it hard to safely advance the ball in front of them.

Bastian decided to take a chance at that point and swung his stick ferociously. The ball sailed into the bright white light as he sat erect, his upper body bowed down so far that it was parallel to the lawn.

With unbridled speed, Bastian’s horse thundered across the field, carrying its rider to victory. And as he rode, the sound of Erich’s voice could be heard echoing through the arena, filled with wild excitement.

“I love you, you crazy spirit!” Erich cried, his voice filled with a frenzied joy.

And then, in the blink of an eye, it was all over. The red flag was waving, signaling the score. The whistle was blowing, signaling the end of the match. And as Bastian circled the field, taking in the cheers of the crowd, he saw her. Odette. Sitting in the stands, watching him. As the enthusiastic crowd erupted around her, she remained poised and collected. Her face was expressionless, yet she cheered on his victory. With a silent bow, she congratulated him with grace and poise.

Bastian couldn’t help but admire Odette’s perfect demeanor, as she effortlessly carried out her duties without ever giving more than what was required. Though her demeanor was reserved, her devotion to her responsibilities was unwavering.

After acknowledging her bow, Bastian gently turned his horse’s head and rode off, satisfied knowing that Odette had fulfilled her duties to the fullest. For him, that was all that mattered.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Sandrine stumbled upon a chance discovery in the players’ waiting room as she celebrated the victory. Engaging in conversation with her cousin Lucas, she was unable to locate Bastian who had retreated to take a champagne-soaked shower.

Eager to keep busy, Sandrine set her sights on Bastian’s gear, finding the unmistakable sight of the infamous pink ribbon tied to his equipment.

It was unprecedented. A shocking and absurd sight to behold. The gaudy ribbon tied to the polo stick was a testament to Bastian’s audacity, a man who had built a reputation as a formidable polo player since his days at the military academy.

Every year, he had taken center stage as a starting player in major competitions, yet he had never bothered with the pre-game ceremony. A blatant disregard for the timeless tradition that considered it a disgrace to not receive a token of a noble lady.

The inaugural moment should have been exceptional. Sandrine had always envisioned that when the day finally arrived, she would be the shining star. It was an unspoken understanding between them. But now, as she stood before Bastian’s equipment, her heart ached with doubt. Had Bastian Klauswitz become just another insignificant man? She tenderly untangled the ribbon, unraveling it with ease as she struggled with her conflicting emotions.

Sandrine’s eyes, which had been roving over the busy officers, lingered once more on the ribbon in her grasp. Its acquisition had been a momentary impulse.

“Are you departing so soon? Would you not linger a while longer?” Lucas enquired, as he searched for a new cigarette to light. Sandrine gave a bright smile, masking the ribbon with fluid grace.

“My apologies, but I don’t believe now is the appropriate moment for a meaningful conversation. Let us make plans for the next opportunity.”

“I understand. I will inform him of your visit,” replied Lucas with a nod.

“Thank you, Lucas. And what of Lady Odette? Will she be joining us for the players’ celebration?”

“It is a possibility. However, you are Bastian’s companion. Have no fear,” Lucas reassured with a soft smile and a dismissive wave of his hand.

“I understand your concerns, but trust me, Sandrine. He’s merely trying to impress His Majesty. We all know Bastian is in a difficult situation due to the impulsive princess.

“Yes, I am aware,” replied Sandrine.

“Just have faith and wait. She will be cast aside once he extricates himself from the predicament. She may have made a poor first impression, but I assure you she is a respectable woman.”

Lucas spoke with animation, but abruptly cut his words short.

“Why was the first meeting so disordered?” Sandrine asked, intrigued.

“Let’s just say, Bastian and that woman will never be a match,” Lucas replied, mysteriously elusive.

Despite her attempts to delve deeper, it seemed like she would have to wait for a more opportune moment to get a clearer answer. Resigning herself to the situation, Sandrine gracefully concluded the conversation with a smile. As she made her way out of the steamy waiting room, surrounded by the musky scent of men and the warm air, her heart felt heavy and cold.

It was undeniable, Lady Odette was a stunning woman.

In the kingdom, personal emotions were not taken into consideration. It was a mystery why a gorgeous woman such as Lady Odette would devote her entire life to being a servant, attending to her unsightly father.

She could have easily become a second spouse or the concubine of a wealthy man, had she so desired.

Sandrine’s heart was filled with apprehension. She feared that the beautiful Lady Odette had a hidden weapon that she was not aware of. What if her seemingly simple life was merely a guise for a greater ambition?

Bastian Klauswitz was a ray of sunshine that illuminated Sandrine’s life. With his popularity as a polo player and the support of the Emperor, he was a valuable catch. However, Bastian was a wise and discerning man, and Sandrine could not help but worry that she may not be able to win his heart.

He was, after all, a man in his prime, heroic or ambitious. Odette was also a lady with nothing left to lose. She would be that man’s wife if she were to foolishly fling herself into the world and have even one child.

She was driven to give Odette a modest gift as soon as she stepped foot in the clubhouse garden.

Sandrine quickly picked a good location after carefully scanning the area. It was a pool formed by the melting of the leftover snow that was beside the trail and was shaded by a tree.

With unwavering resolve, Sandrine made her way forward, her fingers clasping a ribbon of the finest silk. The delicate stitching of Odette’s initials was a testament to her exceptional craftsmanship. As the wind picked up, carrying the scent of blooming flowers, Sandrine loosened her hold on the ribbon. It danced in the breeze before finally coming to rest upon a tranquil pool of water.

The bravest of hunters might capture the most majestic of game in this region, which offered great opportunity. With the benefit of time and wisdom gained through experience, Sandrine could now completely appreciate the profundity of the advice her mother had previously given her on the day of her debut.

Before departing from the verdant garden, Sandrine cast a final glance towards the token she had left behind. The soft pink ribbon, now ensconced in the mire, was a vivid contrast to its surroundings, catching the eye with its hue.

She had nothing against the poor woman, but the situation was a little different when it came to competing for the same prey.

It was in that moment that the hue, which had previously irked her, now appeared to be a shade of captivating beauty.