Chapter 454: Who’s Gonna Stop Me?

Luca spotted one of Riley’s friends, a young centaur named Verra who had just collected her winnings and was cradling a bulging coin pouch against her chest.

"Verra! Come here a moment, would you?"

Verra trotted over, her expression bright and eager.

"Hero! What can I do for you? Do you need more help at the grill? Because I was thinking—"

"Actually." Luca said, gesturing toward Sigrid. "The Commander here wants you to stop gambling right now. And she’d like you to hand over all your coins."

Verra’s face went pale. Her hands clamped around her pouch like she was shielding it from a predator.

"What? But I—I just won these! I put an impossible bet on Mella and she actually won and—"

She looked at Sigrid with something approaching betrayal.

"Commander, you can’t be serious! I earned these fair and square!"

"Sigrid insists." Luca said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "She wants to put a stop to all of this. You wouldn’t disobey your Commander, would you?"

Verra’s expression cycled through panic, despair, and finally a grim, sacrificial resolve.

"I...I suppose..." Her hands trembling, she began to extend the pouch toward Sigrid. "If the Commander truly orders it...my honor demands—"

"Oh, for the love of—!" Sigrid pinched the bridge of her nose. "He’s joking, Verra. Keep your coins. Go. Go."

Verra didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted like a spooked deer, clutching her pouch to her chest and casting fearful glances over her shoulder, as if Sigrid might change her mind and chase her down.

Luca rested his chin on Sigrid’s shoulder. "See? Even when you’re standing right in front of them, they can’t let go. It’s already in their blood."

Sigrid gritted her teeth. "Fine. Then I’ll bring this to the elders! If every single one of them insists the younger generation stop, they’ll have no choice but to listen."

"Oh, the elders. Yes. About that..."

He pointed toward a quieter section of the training ground, where several tables had been set up in the shade of a large tree.

"You might want to see something first."

Sigrid’s stomach dropped. She already knew she wasn’t going to like this.

She trotted over to the shaded area, and the moment the scene came into focus, her jaw went slack.

The elders were gathered around multiple large tables, four to a table, hunched over stacks of what looked like small rectangular tiles. They were playing some kind of game Sigrid had never seen before.

Tiles were being drawn, discarded, arranged into patterns. And in the center of each table sat a sizable pile of golden horseshoe coins.

"Ha!" Elder Filda crowed, slapping a tile down. "I win again! Pay up, you sorry lot!"

"That’s the third time in a row." Another elder grumbled. "You’re cheating. You have to be."

"Cheating? Me?" Filda pressed a hand to her chest with theatrical offense. "I would never. I’m simply blessed today. Now hand over those coins before I get cross."

"Insufferable woman."

"Lovable insufferable woman, thank you very much!"

At another table, Agnes was calmly arranging her tiles while the elder across from her was visibly sweating.

"You’re bluffing." The sweating elder said. "You have to be bluffing. There’s no way you have the tile you need."

Agnes smiled serenely. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Would you like to raise the stakes and find out?"

"...Ancestors preserve me. I fold. I fold."

"Wise decision, dear."

Sigrid stared. She stared some more. Then she turned to Luca, her voice barely a whisper.

"What...What is this?"

"Mahjong." Luca said cheerfully. "It’s a game from my world. Not specifically a gambling game, it’s actually quite strategic, very complex. But you can play it with stakes on the line."

"I figured the elders needed something suited to their...shall we say, more refined sensibilities. They can’t exactly sprint around a racetrack anymore, even with the new prosthetics. So I gave them something they could play sitting down."

"So, they’re basically gambling."

"Enthusiastically."

"Elders...The elders of our village."

"The very same."

Sigrid watched as Filda raked in another pile of coins with a cackle that was entirely too gleeful for a woman of her station.

"I’ve been stuck indoors for years with these old injuries." Filda was saying to no one in particular. "Even with the new legs, I can’t spend all day galloping. But this? This I can do. This I can do magnificently!"

"Don’t let it go to your head." Another elder muttered.

"Too late. It’s already there. And it’s decorated."

But just as she was about to gloat even more, she noticed the villages most stubborn centaur watching.

"Oh—!" Filda sat bolt upright. "Oh—Sigrid! Sigrid is watching us!"

Everything stopped.

The way it stopped was the most incriminating thing Sigrid had ever seen.

"Cover the money!"

"Quick, quick, hide the coins—"

"Get those off the table, get them—under, put them under—"

Within three seconds flat, every last coin in the betting quarter had vanished into pouches, robes, sleeves, and in one impressive case, into her prosthetics.

And every single elder was sitting up straight with her hands folded in her lap wearing an expression of utter innocence, exactly like a child caught with her hand in the honey pot.

"Sigrid!"

"Ah, there you are, dear."

"We were wondering when you’d arrive."

"Such a lovely day, isn’t it? We’ve just been sitting here. Talking."

"Talking?" Filda said, badly. "Yes. Talking. About, um—" She looked around frantically. "Weather."

Agnes did not even glance at her. "We were talking about the weather, Sigrid. Very pleasant."

Sigrid stared at them in dismay.

"Auntie Agnes. I saw you scoop a pile of coins into your apron."

"...Did you?"

"I did."

"That’s—" Agnes adjusted her collar. "That’s a purse. Not coins. Just a purse I was moving."

"With three hundred of them in it?"

"You’re counting my purses now?! Is that what a Commander does!?"

Sigrid opened her mouth, then closed it.

Because what, exactly, was she going to do?

Scold her elders? Walk up to women who had protected this village for six decades and given her every scrap of discipline and honor she had, and lecture them about gambling?

The thought made her want to sink into the ground.

She couldn’t. Not one of them. It would be like a child scolding a mother. Like telling the sun it shouldn’t rise.

And Agnes knew it. She was sitting there with her hands folded and her expression perfectly composed, and there was something twinkling in her eyes.

Sigrid closed her eyes, exhaled slowly, and walked away.

Behind her, she heard the coins come back out and the game resume with renewed vigor.

Luca’s whisper was warm against her ear. "Giving up yet?"

"Absolutely not!" Sigrid growled. "There’s still one person who can stop all of this. One person whose word is absolute iron authority. If she commands it, everyone will obey without hesitation."

"You mean—"

"Queen Poppy."

The name hung in the air like a battle standard. Sigrid straightened, a look of grim resolution settling over her features.

"As long as Lady Poppy tells everyone to stop, they’ll stop. There won’t be any argument, any hesitation. Her word is law."

Luca was silent for a moment. Then: "Pfft."

Sigrid whipped her head around. He was covering his mouth with one hand, his shoulders shaking.

"What?" She demanded. "What’s that sound? Why are you—Sir Luca, why are you laughing?!"

"No reason." He managed, his voice strained. "No reason at all. Just...go over to the betting area. The main crowd. You’ll see."

—

Sigrid pushed her way through the crowd.

There were more of them than ever—the last race had just ended and a new one was being set up, and the whole rail was deep with women clutching tickets.

She elbowed her way forward, apologizing under her breath, and finally got to the front row.

And there, standing right at the rail, hooves on the bottom bar, horn swinging wildly with every emphatic shove of her body—

"GO! GO! GO!"

Sigrid’s soul left her body.

"FASTER! SHE’S CATCHING UP, SHE’S CATCHING UP—MOVE, MOVE—"

Poppy flung one arm out, ticket flapping.

"I BET EVERYTHING I HAVE ON YOU, IF YOU LOSE THIS I’LL HAVE YOU THROWN OUT OF THE CLAN AND LOCKED IN THE DUNGEON FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE—"

Thea stood beside her, looking profoundly exhausted.

"My lady, please lower your voice—"

"DON’T TELL ME TO LOWER MY VOICE, THEA! THIS IS IMPORTANT!"

"But my lady, the other spectators—"

"I DON’T CARE ABOUT THE OTHER SPECTATORS! IN FACT, THEY SHOULDN’T BE CHEERING FOR THE WRONG HORSE!"

Poppy spun around and jabbed a finger at a nearby centaur who had been shouting encouragement at one of the other racers.

"YOU! STOP CHEERING FOR HER! CHEER FOR MY HORSE INSTEAD! THAT’S A ROYAL COMMAND!"

The centaur blinked. "But, my lady, I have money on—"

"I DON’T CARE! ROYAL! COMMAND!"

On the track, the racers thundered toward the finish line. Poppy’s chosen centaur, a young mare named Zara was neck and neck with Riley. For one breathless moment, they were dead even.

And then Riley pulled ahead.

"NO!" Poppy wailed. "NO, NO, NO! THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!"

Riley crossed the line first. Poppy stared at her ticket as if it had personally betrayed her. Then she whirled on Thea, her eyes glistening.

"They’re sabotaging me, Thea! They’re sabotaging me! They don’t want me to win!"

Thea sighed. "And who, exactly, is sabotaging you, my lady?"

"I don’t know!" Poppy threw her hands up. "Evil forces! Dark powers! Someone who knows how magnificent I am and wants to tear me down! It’s a conspiracy, Thea!"

"A conspiracy."

"Yes! A conspiracy of...of sabotagers!"

Thea pinched the bridge of her nose. "I see."

But Poppy wasn’t done. She spun around and marched straight up to the betting platform where Mavis sat, her little legs pumping with regal fury.

"MAVIS!"

Mavis looked up from counting coins. "Yes, my lady?"

"More money! More coins! I need them!"

Now, if anyone else had come up to Mavis demanding free coins, she would have laughed in their face and told them to go earn it like everyone else.

But this was Poppy and Mavis knew exactly what to do.

"Of course, my lady." She said, reaching into a special pouch she kept to the side. "Here you are."

Poppy snatched the coins with both hands, her face transforming from fury to radiant joy in an instant.

"Thank you, Mavis! You’re the best! I forgive you for all those times you called me dumb!"

"I never called you dumb, my lady. I simply suggested that humans have a different definition of—"

"Whatever! I’m going to win this time!"

And Poppy was already dashing back to the track, waving her new coins.

"ZARA! I’M BETTING ON YOU AGAIN! DON’T LET ME DOWN THIS TIME OR I’LL—I’LL THINK OF SOMETHING EVEN WORSE THAN THE DUNGEON!"