UNPREDICTABLE

That night, Prince Wade stood on the balcony, a glass of wine resting in his hand. The cool air brushed against his skin as he gazed into the distance.

Footsteps approached.

“Your Highness.”

Wade didn’t turn. “What is it, Eric?”

The butler stepped forward, holding out a folder. “The information you requested.”

Wade took it. “Thank you, Eric. You may leave.”

Eric bowed and quietly departed.

Wade opened the folder, scanning its contents. It contained Claude’s personal information.

Then he paused.

His brows lifted slightly as his eyes landed on one detail.

“…Eighteen?”

A faint chuckle escaped his lips.

“Everyone thinks you’re twenty, yet you’re only eighteen…” he murmured. “So you’ve been lying about your age this whole time.”

He leaned back against the railing, amused.

“You’re just a kid,” he added under his breath. “No wonder you’re so short.”

The next morning, Claude arrived in the capital and registered for the horse race.

He led his horse to a quiet corner, gently patting its flank.

“Well then, my dear South,” he murmured softly, “one day, I’ll make you my partner in the World Cup.”

“Wow, listen to you.”

Claude turned, surprised.

“Jay?”

His friend grinned, raising a fist. Claude returned the gesture, bumping it with a smile.

“So, you’re here to compete?” Jay teased. “Aren’t you the famous Cloud Dasher?”

Claude laughed awkwardly. “Quit it—that was ages ago. What about you? Competing too?”

Jay shook his head. “Nope. I work here now—bartender.”

“Oh,” Claude said, a little surprised. “I thought you’d go for the prize.”

Jay chuckled. “Nah. Riding those beasts isn’t for me. I’d rather mix drinks.”

An announcement echoed through the venue.

“All participants, please prepare. The race will begin in ten minutes.”

Claude straightened.

“Guess that’s my cue,” he said.

“Good luck,” Jay replied with a grin.

At the starting line, Claude mounted South, steadying his breath.

Then—

His gaze lifted.

Prince Wade had just arrived at the balcony, accompanied by his siblings.

Claude’s eyes narrowed slightly as he spotted something familiar tucked near Wade’s chest.

My handkerchief…

As expected.

His grip tightened.

A sharp crack split the air.

The race began.

South surged forward like a bolt of lightning, leaving the other riders struggling behind.

Wade’s POV

At first, Wade and his siblings watched the race with mild interest.

Then—

Their expressions shifted.

“That kid is fast,” Prince Warren remarked, leaning forward slightly.

“Indeed,” Princess Wendall added. “His horse’s movements are exceptional.”

Wade said nothing.

His gaze remained fixed on Claude—on the way he rode, confident and unrestrained.

Warren noticed.

He smirked, patting Wade’s shoulder. “What’s with that stare?”

Wade flinched slightly. “Nothing. His speed just caught my attention.”

“Isn’t that the boy who delivered wine at my banquet?” Warren asked.

“He’s my classmate,” Wade replied.

Warren hummed thoughtfully.

“You should recommend him for the international horse race. The director’s been looking for talent. He’d be perfect.”

Wade scoffed lightly. “With that attitude?”

“I don’t think he’s cocky,”

Warren said calmly. “If anything, I think you made him uncomfortable.”

Wade frowned.

Warren’s tone softened, but his words carried weight.

“You can be arrogant sometimes, Wade. Learn to be patient. You never know when someone you underestimate might end up helping you.”

Claude’s POV

Claude crossed the finish line first.

Victory.

He leaped off South, his face lighting up with joy.

“We did it!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around the horse. “We won, South!”

Moments later, he received his gold medal and prize money.

After taking a group photo with the other competitors, he left the venue, leading South beside him.

Wade’s POV

From the balcony, Wade watched Claude walk away.

Warren called their butler over and whispered something. The butler nodded and quickly left.

“At first, I thought he resembled Lord Claudio,” Warren said thoughtfully. “But Claudio died years ago… along with his son. He’s just a commoner.”

Wendall crossed her arms. “Still, the resemblance is uncanny.”

Then she glanced at Wade, smirking.

“By the way, I heard Father is having trouble finding you a spouse.”

Wade stiffened. “What? Already?”

“Of course,” she said casually. “You should start looking, or you’ll end up like our dear brother—engaged at thirty.”

“I heard that,” Warren said dryly.

Wendall rolled her eyes. “At least I found mine right after graduation.”

Warren smirked. “At least I don’t go after minors.”

“What? The law says eighteen!” Wendall shot back.

“Enough!” Wade snapped, cutting them off.

They both turned to him.

“Your standards are exhausting,” Wendall muttered.

Wade exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re both already thinking about marriage. I’m not. I’m open to anyone, so just drop it.”

Without another word, he turned and left.

Wendall scoffed. “Well, that’s your fault.”

“How is that my fault?” Warren protested.

Claude’s POV

“Grandma! I’m home—I got your favorite curry!”

Silence.

Claude frowned slightly.

He searched the house. The shop. The storage room.

“Grandma?”

No response.

A sense of dread crept in.

Then—

He found her.

Collapsed in the garden.

“Grandma!” Claude rushed to her side, panic flooding his chest.

“What happened?!”

He carried her into the carriage, shouting for help.

An hour later, they were at the hospital.

Claude sat beside her bed, his hands trembling.

The doctor approached.

“She’s suffered a stroke,” he said.

Claude’s heart dropped.

“…She can recover, right?”

The doctor hesitated. “It’s possible. But she’ll need constant care.”

Claude’s vision blurred.

Just then, Uncle Henry arrived.

That was all it took.

Claude broke down.

Henry placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get through this,” he said gently. “We’ll take care of her.”

Later, Claude stepped outside the hospital, trying to steady himself.

Then he noticed them.

A group of men… watching him.

His heart skipped.

He took a step back.

Then another.

Suddenly—they moved.

Claude ran.

Footsteps thundered behind him.

He dashed into the street—

—and collided with something hard.

A carriage.

He fell, disoriented, but quickly realized his injuries were minor.

The door opened.

A man stepped out.

“I didn’t expect to meet you here, Claude.”

Claude froze.

“…How do you know my name?”

“Come with me,” the man said calmly. “His Highness Warren wishes to see you.”

Claude hesitated.

Prince Warren…?

“I don’t know what I did, but I’m not going with you.”

“Hey!” voices shouted from behind.

The men had caught up.

The butler sighed. “This complicates things.”

Claude grabbed his arm, panic rising.

“Fine—I’ll go!”

Without wasting another second, the butler ushered him into the carriage.

The doors shut.

And within moments, they sped away—leaving the men behind.

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