The Wild Freedom I Choose

Fractured Glory

"I watched your competition livestream. You were amazing. Congratulations on making it to the next round."

For a moment I froze, lost in memories. He used to be the one who wore my victories like they were his own.

"Elara, I still love you. I was never truly against your dream. Once Celia has the baby, everything will go back to the way it was. Why do you have to make such a scene?"

I looked at him and let out a sharp laugh.

"Back to the way it was? What about your heart? Has that never changed either?"

Cyran said nothing, but I didn't need his answer anymore.

"I've already asked my lawyer to prepare the divorce papers. Once the competition is over, let's part on good terms."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but I turned away and went back to my room.

After that night, something in Cyran shifted.

I knew he didn't want the divorce, but it wasn't about me. It was about my family name, and the status it gave him and his child.

A few days later, as I was heading out for training, Cyran—who was resting at home—offered to drive me.

I didn't refuse. But Celia grew restless.

"Cyran, I'm bored sitting around all day. Can you take me with you? I've never even been to a stable before."

At first, he didn't want to. But when she pleaded with that pitiful tone of hers, he finally gave in.

While I trained, the two of them stood at the edge of the arena, watching.

Celia wouldn't behave. One moment she was gagging from the smell, the next she was shrieking dramatically whenever Acorn trotted past, pretending to be terrified.

I'd had enough. I pulled my horse to a stop right in front of her.

"If you can't handle it, then leave. Don't stand here getting in the way. And if anything happens to that baby you're carrying, do you really plan to blame it on me?"

Her lips quivered, and she put on that pitiful, wounded look.

"Elara, I know you don't like me, but how could you curse Cyran's child like that?"

She hurled her purse straight at me. It struck Acorn's hind leg. My horse reared suddenly, front hooves clawing the air, a sharp, piercing cry tearing from him.

I gripped tight with my knees and pulled hard on the reins, fighting to keep control, desperate not to be thrown.

Through the chaos, I heard Celia's shrill scream and Cyran's panicked shouting.

Then, Acorn came crashing down, bucked twice, and sent me flying.

I slammed shoulder-first against the arena rail. The pain shot white-hot—my arm went limp. I knew instantly my shoulder had dislocated.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Celia crumpled on the ground, clutching her stomach.

Clenching my teeth against the pain, I forced myself to stand, fury burning hotter than the injury.

"Celia, are you out of your mind? You almost—"

The word never left my lips. Cyran's hand cracked across my face.

"How dare you insult Celia?"

The sting of his slap split me open inside. Shock, fear, and humiliation—they flooded me all at once. Tears spilled before I could stop them.

Only then did Cyran glance at my hanging arm and seem to realize just how dangerous the situation had been.

Before a trace of guilt could reach him, Celia's sobs broke the silence.

"Cyran, my stomach hurts… I'm so scared."

The moment he saw her doubled over, Cyran didn't spare me a glance. He scooped Celia into his arms and carried her away.

I watched his back as he disappeared, and it felt as though my heart had dropped into a bottomless pit.

In six years of marriage, this was the first time he had ever raised his hand against me.

The stable's medical staff tended to my shoulder, resetting it with brisk efficiency.

By the time I finally made it home, night had already fallen.

Cyran was there, alone. His face was so dark it was almost frightening.

"Celia nearly miscarried. That damn horse of yours almost killed her—and the baby!"

With a furious sweep of his arm, Cyran knocked the trophies from the cabinet.

They clattered to the floor, the very trophies I had earned through years of sweat and sacrifice, the very symbols of triumph he once celebrated with me.

Now they lay shattered, just like everything between us.

Blood and Betrayal

"You're done with horseback riding. From now on, you stay home and wait for Celia to have the baby. If you keep this up, that ridiculous equestrian competition will end in disaster sooner or later!"

I suddenly felt drained, too weary to keep fighting with Cyran.

"We're getting divorced. You don't have any right to control me."

…

A few days later, during the championship round, I spotted Cyran and Celia in the stands. Their presence alone soured the air around me.

Acorn cleared a few obstacles, then gave a sudden shudder. His rhythm faltered, and one mistake tumbled into another.

When he leapt the final fence, his foreleg caught. The massive weight of his body crashed down, pinning me beneath him.

The officials stopped the competition at once. Cyran and Celia hurried down with the staff.

Acorn's leg was shattered. He thrashed helplessly on the ground.

A stabbing, tearing pain spread through my lower abdomen.

"I warned you this would happen—that riding would land you in trouble. But you never listen!"

Cyran's voice dripped with scorn, as if he had been waiting for this moment.

"This damned horse again. Last time it nearly made me miscarry. Now, it's crushed Elara. It doesn't deserve to live another day!"

Celia waddled closer, clutching her swollen belly. She crouched beside Acorn, raised her hand, and struck his broken leg.

"Stop!"

Her scream tore through the arena at the same time as my desperate cry.

In agony, Acorn lashed out. His hoof drove straight into Celia's stomach. A gush of blood erupted instantly.

Chaos erupted around us when one of the staff shouted in fury, "Who did this? Who put a long needle under the saddle?"

The words froze me. Rage and grief shot straight to my head.

And right then, Celia let out a wailing scream, twisting the moment to her advantage.

"Elara! You wretched woman! This is all your fault! You insisted on riding, you provoked Cyran, and that's why he slipped the needle under the saddle! My baby could be in danger because of you! You dragged me into this—it's all your fault!"

I stared at Cyran, utterly stunned.

In an instant, terror, fury, and betrayal crashed over me like a storm.

He shifted uneasily, holding Celia close, guilt flickering in his eyes. But just as quickly, he hardened, speaking with self-righteous indignation.

"I only did it because you refused to give up riding! We've been married six years and you still won't give me a child. Haven't I been patient enough? Now, Celia's child is in danger because of that beast you insist on keeping. Are you happy now?"

I looked at him, and suddenly he was a stranger.

Six years. And yet I had never seen the darkness, the cruelty, and the pettiness coiled inside this man.

Fine then. Some secrets didn't need to wait for the divorce to be spoken aloud.

"Cyran, don't act so heartbroken. Whether her baby survives or not—what does it matter to you? It isn't even yours."

Celia, who had been on the verge of fainting, snapped awake at once, her eyes wild. "You vile liar! How dare you slander me!"

Cyran glared at me with nothing but contempt.

"Even now, you can't resist throwing filth on someone else's name."

I sneered and told him to call my lawyer.

Cyran scolded me at first, insisting I was talking nonsense, but when he saw the panic on Celia's face, he still made the call.

A few minutes later, the phone went dead. His face had turned a stormy, iron-gray.

By then, the medical staff had dragged me out from under Acorn.

My white riding pants were soaked through with blood.

Cyran's eyes fell on me, and his expression shifted instantly. He lunged to the ground, trembling as he scooped me into his arms. "Elara! You're bleeding so much… Don't scare me like this!"

Pain and blood loss blurred my vision.

In the last fleeting moment before consciousness slipped away, I managed a bitter smile and whispered another secret. "Cyran… I'm pregnant."