Yes, the Emperor was admonishing—or rather, threatening—Serena, making it abundantly clear that she had to win, bring glory to the nation, and not disgrace the reputation of Eastlyn's noblewomen.
Serena cursed inwardly, but on the surface she responded with respectful fear.
Damn it... He hadn't cared about her match with the Su Clan before, so why was he suddenly elevating it to a matter of national pride? Now her victory or defeat was no longer a personal issue.
But since when did Serena get to represent Eastlyn's noblewomen? Did the Emperor ever ask for their opinion—or hers?
Even if Eastlyn's noblewomen wanted to be represented by a woman with a ruined reputation like her, she didn't want to be their mascot. If she won, it was "honor for the nation"—if she lost, it was her head on the line.
Ninth Royal Uncle stood to the side, listening, the coldness on his face softened by a faint, mocking smile. He gave the Emperor a meaningful glance, full of irony.
Seeing that he'd achieved his goal, the Emperor decided to stop while he was ahead. With a grand gesture, he declared, "Let the duel begin!"
As soon as the Emperor's words fell, the consorts behind the screen finally smiled. A few had ambiguous glints in their eyes, but with the screen blocking them—and considering they were all the Emperor's women—no one dared look directly at them, lest it cause any misunderstandings.
Serena and Su Rou both used their own horses. The Imperial Guards came forward, escorting Serena and Su Rou to the competition grounds. At the entrance, Serena caught sight of Dominic Zhai in full armor, making exaggerated faces at her.
He was telling her to relax—he was in charge of the racetrack’s safety and had checked everything. There were no problems at all.