Chapter 53. Royal Ascot Day One in the Dream World
The next day, the four Uma Musume had fully recovered their energy. After breakfast, they headed out together to enjoy their vacation, while Shuta An remained alone in his room, gathering information on Ascot Racecourse.
Why was he planning to begin his short-term European riding campaign in the Dream World next Wednesday?
Because from next Tuesday through Saturday, Ascot Racecourse would host the annual Royal Ascot meeting. As its name implied, the British Royal Family would attend the event in person. Although Shuta An had not secured a mount for Tuesday's races, beginning with Wednesday's G3 Queen Mary Stakes, he had already received invitations from overseas Trainers and obtained several riding opportunities.
Of course, the greatest reason behind his diligence was another quest issued by the Attribute Viewer.
"Fame in Summer!"
After receiving an invitation from André Fabre, you, the Japanese champion jockey for two consecutive years, have decided to embark upon an expedition to Europe—the pinnacle of turf racing—together with your partner, Tokai Teio! Accumulate sufficient fame by conquering major races across Europe this summer! The greater your final achievements, the greater the reward!
Although the quest description did not specify the reward, Shuta An still remembered how the "SS Creator" effect obtained from the Sunday Silence quest had dramatically accelerated Silence Suzuka's growth. Judging from that precedent, he doubted this reward would be any less impressive.
"So I have absolutely no reason to relax."
With that mindset, the young man carefully analyzed Ascot's course layout and studied race footage across various distances, researching the optimal tactics for every race condition he might encounter.
"The professions of Horserace and jockeys really aren't the same."
As noon approached, this thought became his strongest impression.
"As a jockey, effort will always produce results. But for an Racehorse— if the talent simply isn't there—"
An entire morning slipped away.
Yet the deeper his understanding of Ascot became, the more astonished he felt.
Only now did he truly realize how difficult the Ascot course was.
At the same time, he became even more grateful that he had not arranged for any members of Team Sadalsuud to challenge local races there.
"That turf feels like something only Teio might be able to adapt to."
Shuta An rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Teio's next race in the Dream World is the Epsom Derby, which happens to be held at Ascot. I'll observe how he handles the course first. If he adapts successfully, then in the real world, Teio can try challenging Ascot next year as well."
His gaze lingered on the screen.
"For Japanese competitors, winning at Royal Ascot—a racing festival with more than two hundred years of history and the oldest horse racing celebration in the world—would create a shockwave no less significant than winning any other major international race."
After all, even today, forget the G1 and G2 events at Royal Ascot.
The Uma Musume of Central Tracen Academy had yet to win even a single ordinary-class race there.
That fact alone spoke volumes.
In the evening, after a simple dinner, Shuta An spent quite some time acting as a human clothes rack for Tokai Teio and the others.
Once that ordeal finally ended, he returned to his room, soaked in the hot spring for a while, and went to bed unusually early.
—
"I made a mistake—"
Opening his eyes, Shuta An could not help letting out a sigh.
"I should've realized earlier that I'd be spending the entire night on a plane in the Dream World."
At this moment, he was genuinely bored.
The aircraft in the Dream World offered no entertainment facilities whatsoever. As a result, Shuta An could only recline in his seat, occasionally chatting with Yoshida Katsumi, then drifting into one short nap after another.
The journey passed in exactly that fashion.
The following morning, before he could properly wake up, Mejiro Dober had already dragged him out of bed.
"Ann, don't lock yourself inside the room again today! Wouldn't it be nice to go out for a walk with me?"
Not with us.
With me.
That single word perfectly revealed Mejiro Dober's intentions.
"At least let me wash up and change clothes first."
The young man yawned.
Sleeping in both the real world and the Dream World did not replenish his energy twice over. On the contrary, it only left him feeling even sleepier.
Meanwhile, Tokai Teio and the others had apparently spent the entire night gaming in their room and were still fast asleep.
"I hope we didn't disturb Ann last night."
Holding her lover's hand, Mejiro Dober appeared considerably bolder than usual.
"Teio and the others were shouting the whole time while playing games. You could hear them clearly from the hallway."
"I wasn't disturbed."
Shuta An shrugged.
"But Dober, you reminded them to keep it down, didn't you? Later we'll have to apologize to the other guests on this floor."
"I did remind them—"
At that point, Mejiro Dober's cheeks suddenly turned bright red.
"Then this morning I found out that the only other guest room on our floor is currently vacant."
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about."
Shuta An reached over and lightly pinched her cheek.
"Don't overthink it, Dober. What you did was correct. Whether there were other guests or not doesn't change that. You were helping me."
"That's good, then."
Mejiro Dober visibly relaxed.
"I was worried Ann might think I was meddling."
Even now, she still struggled to determine the boundaries between herself and the man beside her.
How much of her true self could she reveal? How far could she go before crossing a line?
Yet after hearing his answer, she discovered that the limits she had imagined were much stricter than reality.
—
After leaving the hotel, the two spent roughly ten minutes reaching the mountain cable car station.
"Rather than climbing all the way up and getting covered in sweat, let's just take the cable car."
Mejiro Dober immediately offered her suggestion.
"At this hour, even if we climbed, we'd probably miss the sea of clouds anyway."
Shuta An nodded.
After purchasing tickets, the pair soon boarded the cable car together.
"Mount TOMAMU is over 1,200 meters above sea level. Visitors can reach the summit, but the observation facilities are actually located along the mountainside."
Mejiro Dober enthusiastically introduced the mountain's attractions.
"How do we get around once we're up there?"
Since the map was currently in Dober's possession and he hadn't studied it closely, Shuta An simply asked directly.
"The day before yesterday, when Rice and I came here, I never actually visited the observation area."
Mejiro Dober closed the map.
"I stayed in the café right beside the cable car station all afternoon."
She smiled brightly.
"So this time, let's go see the sea of clouds together."
"I thought Dober already knew the route."
Shuta An looked mildly surprised as he took the map from her hands.
"Then let me study it and lead the way."
—
More than ten minutes later, the cable car delivered them to the mountaintop station.
"So this is Dober's preferred café."
Shuta An surveyed the cloud-themed establishment before them.
The menu was filled with cloud-inspired desserts and drinks.
Without hesitation, he ordered two signature Cloud Sea Coffees.
Though the name sounded impressive, it was essentially an ordinary latte decorated with cloud-shaped marshmallows.
"Let's rest here first."
Glancing at the map, he continued:
"After that, we'll head directly to Cloud Pool at the very top, then work our way down through all six observation facilities."
"Okay!"
Mejiro Dober naturally had no objections.
After all, she had yet to visit any of them herself.
Once they had rested sufficiently, the two left the Cloud Sea Café together.
The first attraction, Cloud Bar, was only five minutes away.
As its name suggested, the facility resembled a bar counter suspended above the sea of clouds, allowing visitors to sit and admire the scenery as though enjoying a performance from a bartender.
However, since they planned to explore the route from top to bottom, neither lingered there for long.
They simply continued onward.
Passing one observation facility after another, the pair eventually arrived at Cloud Pool.
The structure was roughly ten meters in length and width, resembling a giant hammock suspended in the air.
Perhaps because it looked somewhat intimidating, no other visitors were present.
Without hesitation, Shuta An led Mejiro Dober onto it.
Although it resembled a hammock, the structure was actually reinforced steel and perfectly safe.
Perhaps because it was the smallest facility among the six, no one else arrived for quite some time.
As a result, the two enjoyed the space entirely to themselves.
"To be honest, compared to Cloud Pool, I'm looking forward to Contour Bench and Sky Wedge more."
Walking ahead, Mejiro Dober suddenly stopped and turned toward him.
"Ann, which one are you looking forward to the most?"
"Cloud Walk."
Shuta An answered honestly.
"I think that one looks interesting."
"I don't like it."
Mejiro Dober rejected the idea immediately. Before he could ask why, she supplied the answer herself.
"Because it only allows one person at a time."
Then she extended her hand.
"And I want to walk hand in hand with Ann."
Her fingers intertwined naturally with his.
"Just like this."
The Contour Bench was a lengthy seating area modeled after contour lines on a topographic map. Since many tourists were gathered there, the two maintained a certain distance from one another.
For that reason, Mejiro Dober quietly urged him forward after only a few minutes.
By the time they reached Sky Wedge, however, no other visitors were present.
Standing upon the viewing platform shaped like the bow of a ship, they gazed out over the endless sea of clouds.
At that moment, inspiration suddenly struck Shuta An.
Stepping behind Mejiro Dober, he wrapped his arms around her waist and shouted toward the clouds:
"I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!"
Fortunately, Mejiro Dober had sensed danger in advance.
Her ears folded down instantly.
Otherwise, she might have been startled badly.
"Why did you suddenly shout something like that?"
She turned around in confusion.
Shuta An casually pinched her cheek again.
"I just felt like saying it."
Of course, there was another thought he kept to himself.
Maybe if I get the chance, I'll shout it once in the Dream World too.
—
Since Mejiro Dober disliked Cloud Walk, they skipped it entirely.
Eventually, they returned to Cloud Bar, where they chatted, took photographs, and prepared content for Team Sadalsuud's official Twitter account.
There, Mejiro Dober unexpectedly brought up her future.
"I can still compete in the Twinkle Series for one more senior year."
She looked out at the scenery.
"But after that, I don't really want to enter the Dream Trophy Series immediately."
Turning toward him, she asked,
"Ann, do you have any suggestions?"
"What do you want to do?"
Shuta An asked in return.
"Creative work? Something else?"
"Probably creative work."
Mejiro Dober hesitated slightly.
"I feel like my artistic skills are slowly reaching a rut. I might need further study if I want to improve."
"Then attend an art academy."
The suggestion came immediately.
"Uma Musume from Central Tracen Academy are welcomed almost anywhere for further education."
He paused briefly.
"Well, except medical school."
"I don't want to study medicine!"
Mejiro Dober protested instantly. Then she added in a quieter voice,
"But if Ann supports me, that's even better."
"Well~"
Shuta An flicked her forehead lightly.
"I'll always be Dober's strongest supporter. If there's something you want to do, don't worry so much."
"Mhm!"
Mejiro Dober nodded happily.
Then, without warning, she leaned forward and stole a quick kiss.
—
By the time they returned to the hotel, it was exactly noon.
"Let's eat lunch before heading back."
Naturally, Mejiro Dober agreed.
After a simple lunch centered around mountain vegetables, the two returned to the floor where their guest rooms were located.
"Teio and the others usually come looking for me around this time."
Mejiro Dober voluntarily released his hand.
"See you tonight."
"Mm. See you tonight."
For once, Shuta An found himself being left behind. Returning to his room, he sat on the edge of the bed and plugged in his phone.
"Going to see the sea of clouds with Dober wasn't part of today's plan."
He glanced toward the study.
"In that case, I'll just finish all of today's work this afternoon."
Setting his phone on the bedside table, he didn't even bother resting.
Instead, he immediately stood up, entered the study, opened his computer, and threw himself back into work.
Every potential opponent in the Yorkshire Oaks required careful analysis.
Now that Mejiro Dober had returned to her winning streak, Shuta An had no intention whatsoever of allowing anyone to interrupt it again.
That night, with Mejiro Dober nestled in his arms, Shuta An gradually drifted into sleep and entered the Dream World once more.
Having already arrived in London, he did not linger for sightseeing. Instead, accompanied by Yoshida Katsumi, he headed directly for Ascot Racecourse.
For at least the next week, his life would revolve entirely around two places: the hotel near Ascot and the jockeys' quarters inside the Racecourse itself.
"We'll have to part ways temporarily here, Katsumi-san. Will you be alright on your own?"
Shuta An wasn't worried about himself. His English was more than sufficient for daily communication. Yoshida Katsumi, however, possessed a level of spoken English that could only be described as— delicate.
"No problem."
Yoshida Katsumi waved dismissively.
"I've already contacted an old university classmate to act as my interpreter."
"That's good."
Shuta An nodded.
"I also asked André Fabre in advance for two staff passes. Since I expected you might bring someone along, I requested an extra one."
Fortunately, he had anticipated this possibility long ago.
After checking into the hotel, Shuta An took a long shower to wash away the exhaustion accumulated during the journey. Only afterward did he arrive at Ascot Racecourse carrying his luggage.
Unexpectedly, he encountered André Fabre right at the entrance.
"I'm truly sorry, Mr. Shuta."
The French trainer spread his hands helplessly.
"During Royal Ascot this year, I can only provide seven horses with realistic winning chances."
The gesture looked slightly amusing.
In the Dream World, Shuta An's height as a jockey could only be considered average. Yet André Fabre still stood noticeably shorter than him.
"Seven is already more than enough."
Shuta An immediately bowed slightly.
"Besides, I should be the one thanking Mr. Fabre. Your recommendations allowed other trainers to notice me and offer additional riding opportunities."
"Most of those mounts are in handicaps."
Fabre shook his head.
"There's really no need to thank me."
Then he smiled.
"If you insist on thanking me, win a few races under Her Majesty's watchful eyes."
"Naturally." A brilliant smile appeared on the young man's face. "I came all the way from Japan for exactly that purpose."
"To win."
After entering the jockeys' quarters, Shuta An took a moment to look around.
Perhaps because Royal Ascot was underway, the facilities far exceeded his expectations.
The lounge was spacious and elegantly decorated.
The recreational facilities were complete, household appliances were readily available, and the refrigerator was stocked with enough food and drinks to satisfy several days of isolation.
At the very least, he had absolutely nothing to complain about.
"My first ride isn't until tomorrow."
He stretched lazily.
"I'll use today to adjust to the time difference."
The young man glanced toward the bed.
"I can't exactly be yawning in the saddle tomorrow."
Without hesitation, he changed into pajamas, slipped beneath the blanket, and closed his eyes.
—
Knock. Knock.
The sound of knocking pulled him awake.
"Who is it?"
His expression became slightly cautious.
"Are you the jockey from Asia?"
A voice answered from outside.
"My name is Thierry Jarnet. I'd like to meet you."
After hearing the response, Shuta An straightened his pajamas, rose from bed, and opened the door.
The instant the door swung open—
Bang!
A shower of confetti exploded directly into his face. Fortunately, he reacted quickly enough to shut his eyes.
Otherwise, the prank might genuinely have injured him.
"Welcome to England!" Thierry Jarnet grinned broadly. "This is our welcome gift for you, Asian kid!"
"A very thoughtful gift."
Rather than becoming angry, Shuta An smiled.
"I'll return the favor on the Racecourse tomorrow."
Then he calmly closed the door.
Outside, Thierry Jarnet turned toward the group of jockeys accompanying him.
"Wow." His grin widened. "It seems the youngster favored by André Fabre is very confident."
"An Asian jockey?"
Another jockey sneered.
"Let's teach him a proper lesson tomorrow."
—
The following day, Shuta An once again immersed himself in studying Ascot Racecourse.
The so-called "welcome gift" had reminded him of fraternity initiation rituals in America.
He had experienced similar situations while studying to become a Trainer.
"How was that resolved back then—?"
The young man closed his eyes.
Then the answer surfaced immediately.
"Secretariat stormed into the academy and beat every single one of those idiots half to death."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
Unfortunately, Secretariat wasn't here now.
In the Dream World, there was no one who could solve his problems for him.
"I'll have to handle everything myself."
And he understood one thing very clearly.
The only way to earn the respect of these Europeans was through victory.
Not arguments. Not explanations.
Victory.
Win enough races.
Win enough major races.
Win a G1.
Only then would they truly acknowledge him.
"Let's begin with the Queen Mary Stakes tonight."
Thus, he continued studying Ascot's track conditions in meticulous detail.
—
That evening, Shuta An's first assignment came in the second race of the day at Ascot Racecourse:
The G2 Queen Mary Stakes.
A 1000-meter turf sprint restricted to two-year-olds.
The mount had not come from André Fabre.
Instead, he had accepted an invitation from Trainer J. Wharton to ride Snipe Hall. The filly had won both of her previous starts and entered the race as the second favorite.
As preparations were underway, a member of Ascot's staff approached him.
"Her Majesty the Queen will attend every day of Royal Ascot this year."
The staff member spoke with obvious seriousness.
"Please refrain from any disrespectful behavior on the Racecourse."
"I understand."
Shuta An nodded obediently.
Privately, however, he felt slightly disappointed.
Originally, he had considered making a throat-slashing gesture toward yesterday's pranksters after winning.
Apparently, that idea would have to remain abandoned.
—
The 1000-meter course at Ascot resembled the straight sprint course at Niigata Racecourse.
It contained no turns whatsoever.
Just one uninterrupted charge toward the finish line.
As a result, gate position mattered very little.
Ironically, Snipe Hall drew the outermost gate.
Click!
The gates sprang open.
At the instant of release, Shuta An loosened the reins and drove forward aggressively. Snipe Hall burst from the stalls like an arrow released from a bow. Within moments, she had established nearly a one-length advantage.
Yet instead of attempting to angle inward, Shuta An deliberately maintained a perfectly straight line.
His conclusion from countless hours of study had been simple,
"In a pure straight 1000-meter race, every unnecessary movement is wasted ground."
Fortunately, Snipe Hall possessed excellent balance. She drifted only slightly under acceleration, requiring merely a few corrective taps from the whip.
"My push-riding might not have an advantage in Europe."
That had been his pre-race concern. Yet even so, he kept Snipe Hall prominently positioned near the front.
Then the decisive phase arrived.
As the sprint intensified, Shuta An suddenly realized something unexpected.
The jockey ahead of him appeared—weaker. At least in terms of raw pushing strength.
The realization surprised him.
Then he recognized the rider.
One of yesterday's pranksters.
Instantly, his competitive spirit erupted. Grinding his teeth, he drove harder.
Snipe Hall responded immediately, finding another gear.
The gap disappeared.
Shuta An lowered his head and launched into his signature style.
Whip. Push.
Whip. Push.
Each strike was accompanied by explosive leg drive. His entire body moved rhythmically with the horse's stride.
Compared to every other jockey on the course, his motions appeared almost exaggerated.
At some point, the outside world vanished.
Only three sounds remained.
The thunder of hooves. The crack of the whip. And the pounding of his own heartbeat.
Then—
The finish line.
"EXTRAORDINARY!"
The commentator's voice exploded through the air.
"SNIPE HALL CROSSES THE LINE FIRST! THE AMERICAN TRIPLE CROWN-WINNING JOCKEY FROM JAPAN CLAIMS A HISTORIC VICTORY IN HIS VERY FIRST APPEARANCE AT ASCOT!"
After crossing the finish, Shuta An performed a smooth flourish with his whip.
"This is only the beginning."
—
Forty minutes later came the day's feature event.
The G1 Coronation Stakes. 1594 meters on turf.
This time, his partner was Elizabeth Bay, trained by André Fabre himself.
As he rode through the paddock, a familiar voice called out.
"Go, Shuta-kun!"
Yoshida Katsumi.
Turning slightly, Shuta An raised a thumbs-up in response. Meanwhile, another thought drifted through his mind.
"Elizabeth Bay..."
He glanced down at his mount.
"Queen's Bay."
Then toward the royal enclosure.
"And Her Majesty's name is Elizabeth."
Of course, that association carried no deeper meaning. The Queen was approaching seventy years old.
Shuta An merely found the coincidence amusing.
Nearby, André Fabre stood beside Yoshida Katsumi.
"To be honest, Elizabeth Bay isn't my strongest three-year-old filly."
The Frenchman folded his arms.
"She's simply the only one eligible for this race."
He looked toward the paddock.
"But if Mr. Shuta wins the Coronation Stakes today, I can confidently introduce him to even more owners."
His eyes gleamed.
"At that point, obtaining a mount capable of winning the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe will no longer be a fantasy."
"That won't be necessary."
Unexpectedly, Yoshida Katsumi disagreed.
"Because Shuta-kun already has a horse capable of winning the Arc."
André Fabre raised an eyebrow.
"Tokai Teio? I admit he's exceptional. But if the weather turns even slightly unfavorable—"
"I can't answer hypothetical situations." Yoshida Katsumi spread his hands. "But I know one thing."
His gaze met Fabre's directly.
Without hesitation. Without fear.
"In Shuta-kun's heart, his partnership with Tokai Teio is invincible."
For a moment, André Fabre fell silent. Then he sighed softly.
"Perhaps you're right."
His eyes returned to the Racecourse.
"Let's focus on the Coronation Stakes."
The race itself featured only five runners.
A remarkably small field for a G1; yet the quality was astonishing. Among his opponents stood names known throughout Europe.
Gerald Moose. The French legend who had conquered the Arc.
W. R. Swinburn. Ireland's legendary rider.
Thierry Jarnet. The British prodigy who had won the Derby at nineteen aboard a claiming horse.
And M. Hills. The reigning champion apprentice.
Any one of them could headline a race meeting.
Yet Shuta An was no longer an unknown outsider. He was already famous in Japan.
As the introductions concluded, the commentator's voice rang out:
"TODAY MARKS THE FIRST CONFRONTATION BETWEEN ELITE JOCKEYS FROM EUROPE AND ASIA! UNDER THE GAZE OF HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN, THE CORONATION STAKES PROMISES TO DELIVER A MAGNIFICENT BATTLE!"
Whether it would be magnificent or not, Shuta An couldn't say.
But one thing was certain. His battle with Thierry Jarnet was far from over.
The starting point of the Coronation Stakes was located at the upper-right corner of Ascot Racecourse, at the very end of the auxiliary track.
Shortly after the start, the horses would rejoin the main track in the middle of Swinley Bottom. In other words, the racehorses began at the lowest point of the turning course and, from the very outset, had to traverse an entire stretch of gently rising side track before passing through the final bend and entering a long, 500-meter uphill straight that led directly to the finish line.
This terrain alone determined that seizing the lead early was a poor choice.
Advancing on an uphill section required additional stamina, so who would willingly do such a thing?
At the very least, none of the four legendary jockeys had any intention of doing so.
Only Hills, fearless as a newborn calf, directly allowed Nicer, the horse he rode, to take the lead.
Meanwhile, Shuta An settled behind Sumuto, ridden by W. R. Swinburn, and Zarani Sidi Anna, ridden by Thierry Jarnet, carefully marking both of them.
Behind Shuta An was Gold Splash, partnered with Gerald Moose.
"It looks like Shuta-kun isn't in a hurry to improve his position. When did he study the Racecourse?" Yoshida Katsumi wondered inwardly.
"Or did he simply glance at the terrain and immediately understand that pushing the pace would be disadvantageous?"
"He's a genius, isn't he?"
Yoshida Katsumi had long since lost count of how many times he had sighed that sentence.
After gradually climbing the uphill section, Shuta An checked his internal clock and immediately sensed that the pace in front was exceptionally slow.
"This should be the norm for European racing," the young man thought. "With such a slow early pace, everyone is probably betting everything on the final straight."
Having already confirmed during the previous race that his pushing power was not inferior to that of the local jockeys, Shuta An had no reason to rush Elizabeth Bay forward.
Thus, the field maintained its formation all the way until they entered the final straight.
The final straight at Ascot Racecourse was an uphill section approximately 500 meters in length.
Because of this, Shuta An did not immediately ask Elizabeth Bay for acceleration upon straightening for home.
Instead, he gradually increased the pressure he applied.
He was concerned that Elizabeth Bay's acceleration response might not be ideal. After all, the pace had remained slow throughout, and many racehorses struggled to adapt to a sudden surge in speed after conserving energy for so long.
Under Shuta An's steady and persistent guidance, Elizabeth Bay gradually released the explosive power she had been storing.
Two hundred meters from the finish line, Shuta An finally cracked his whip.
Then, once again, he unleashed his signature technique—whipping and push-riding simultaneously.
Following behind, Gerald Moose could not help but watch for several moments.
"This guy has incredible strength. Is this what it means to be young?"
A faint trace of envy surfaced in Gerald Moose's heart.
Yet he had no intention of surrendering.
"This is a G1. I have to give everything I have."
Shuta An could hear the pounding hoofbeats of Gold Splash closing from behind.
However, it was equally clear that Elizabeth Bay's gradual speed remained superior.
Neither Thierry Jarnet nor W. R. Swinburn could halt the young man's momentum as he surged relentlessly toward the finish.
"COULD IT BE THAT SHUTA AN IS ABOUT TO CLAIM CONSECUTIVE VICTORIES?!" the commentator could not help but exclaim.
"Go!"
André Fabre was equally excited.
He had won the Coronation Stakes only once before, four years ago. Now, he saw the opportunity to win it for a second time. For a French Trainer, winning a G1 at Britain's most prestigious racing festival carried a unique sense of satisfaction.
To the French, defeating the British on one of their most important stages was every bit as gratifying as mocking British.
Few things could truly replace that feeling.
Shuta An did not disappoint him. Elizabeth Bay maintained her relentless charge all the way to the finish line.
Although Gerald Moose pushed with everything he had, Gold Splash still fell short by half a length.
"What a decisive young man."
Seated in her exclusive viewing area, Her Majesty the Queen raised an eyebrow and could not help but voice her admiration.
"To withstand the pressure exerted by Gerald Moose at such a young age is truly impressive."