"Congratulations, Prince Rostislav, it seems you are still the better rider."
Only a minute after Rostislav stopped, the other two riders also arrived, and Edward Wessex immediately congratulated the Prince.
"Edward, you're holding back again. You deliberately didn't use the warhorse you usually ride, didn't you? You really went to great lengths for me."
Rostislav unhesitatingly exposed the Englishman's feigned weakness.
Edward, whose deception was exposed, showed no embarrassment on his face, only the familiar smile of a fox, which was a smile the Prince knew well.
"That's more like it."
The Prince said, looking at the Wessex heir who grew up in Hungary.
Edward grew up in Hungary, a country that still had a strong nomadic flavor. How could his horsemanship be poor? Many riders there could still control a warhorse with just their legs.
And the Prince was certain that the man in front of him possessed such skill, after all, he could now ride neck and neck with the Prince, a man of the saddle, even on an unfamiliar warhorse, which showed the strength of his horsemanship.
"And my horsemanship is truly poor, my Lords."
Yang said with a touch of helplessness. He had pushed himself to the limit just to barely keep up with the two of them, and it turned out someone was holding back, which was a huge blow to him.
However, Yang had long been accustomed to this. After all, he had learned many things only after coming into contact with Rostislav, and he had long recognized his shortcomings. Compared to these two nobles who had practiced horsemanship since childhood, he truly couldn't compare.
"Yang, don't be too disheartened. Your horsemanship is already excellent. Few people in all of Northeast Rus' can compare with you."
Edward comforted him from the side, and what he said was not false; in the Northeast Rus' region, few people had better horsemanship than Yang.
These two had come specially today from their respective garrisons to visit Rostislav, and upon arriving on the outskirts of Moscow, they were summoned by Rostislav and then came to this horse race.
"Alright, stop talking there, come over and have a drink."
Rostislav dismounted very nimbly, walked to one side of the racetrack, picked up a cup full of kvass, and poured it into his mouth, while the other two followed with smiles.
Originally, a drink like kvass was not something a Prince should drink; it was a substitute made by the lower and middle classes to cope with a shortage of beer. However, the Prince really liked the feeling of kvass.
Moreover, the kvass just taken out of the cellar was ice-cold and very refreshing to drink, perfect for the hot summer.
Furthermore, this kvass was not the common variety found outside, but a refined product with added honey, and even the bread used for fermentation was specially made white bread, completely befitting the Prince's status, and it wouldn't lose value even if brought to a banquet.
And for Rostislav, the taste of this kvass was already very close to that of later generations, which made him even more fascinated by it; his water flask was filled with it whenever he traveled.
"You actually have such good stuff, Rostislav, I really didn't realize it. I thought this was just ordinary kvass."
Edward tasted the extraordinary quality of the kvass with just one sip and said with some surprise.
"Just a small improvement, that's all. If you like it, you can take quite a bit. Oh, by the way, where is my aunt? Why didn't she come this time?"
Rostislav generously expressed his kindness; after all, it was nothing to him. Then he asked about his aunt.
"Ah, she can't leave the territory unmanned."
Speaking of the territory, Edward, who always wore a foxy smile, his expression fell. That place was truly giving him a headache.
"Is there any problem?"
Rostislav asked subconsciously, his tone filled with strong concern. Edward was his kin, someone who needed strong assistance, someone who could become his strong supporter in the future.
The Moscow Prince never stinted on support for his two relatives; he truly wanted these two to firmly establish themselves in their territories.
"I'm doing alright here, mainly I have to busy myself arguing with those farmers every day, needing to spend a lot of words to make them pay taxes and fulfill their obligations. Sometimes I even have to send troops to kill a few people, which is quite a headache. But in comparison, that Polish lad next door to me is constantly setting things on fire. He doesn't have as much patience as I do, so he just takes his knights to burn villages. After burning a few villages, those farmers become much more obedient."
Listening to Edward's words, the Prince couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Fortunately, it was just a complaint about the troubles of governing the territory. He had thought it was unstable rule, which would have been troublesome.
Looking at the situation now, Edward's side was fine, but that Meshko lad had big problems. Rostislav considered whether to send some people over and go persuade the lad himself. Unilateral violence and suppression could not achieve peace.
But that was for later, and now Rostislav looked at the other person.
"Yang, are there any problems in Suzdal? Do those people still obey you?"
The Moscow Prince was very concerned about the situation in Suzdal; it was originally the most independent region in Northeast Rus'.
Moreover, the alternative name for Northeast Rus', the Behind-the-Forest Land, was most fitting for Suzdal; even within Northeast Rus', Suzdal was "behind the forest."
And during the Bulgar invasion war, Suzdal had produced a great traitor. Although the traitor Olaf's territory and property had been divided, the Prince was still uneasy.
If not for this, he wouldn't have sent his personal guard leader to oversee things there.
"They are relatively well-behaved. Olaf's property allowed the nobles of Suzdal to feast, so they have no intention of causing trouble. Also, Vasily's family helped me a lot; if not for them, I wouldn't have been able to take over everything so quickly."
Yang explained everything in an orderly manner. Vishata had not failed to teach his son various administrative knowledge, which was why Yang did not complain after going to Suzdal.
"Also, I suggest letting Vasily take over my position. I am currently the Mayor of Suzdal and cannot stay by your side for long. Vasily is a good young man, and this way we can tie the Kherunsky family firmly to our warship."
"Mm, I will consider it."
Rostislav was already considering what Yang said. Vasily was indeed a loyal knight; the Prince still remembered that he would rather be captured by the Bulgars and become a prisoner than surrender.
Just as the words fell, a rider rushed in. The man looked very nervous, which made the Moscow Prince instinctively stand up, and the news he brought made the Prince's heart tighten.
"Prince Rostislav, your wife has gone into labor."
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