***

In the first loop, with her engagement broken and her reputation in tatters, Rishe roamed with nothing but the clothes on her back. Fortuitously, she met a merchant caravan willing to buy her jewelry. Finding them a good-natured band, she hitched a ride to a neighboring country.

From the merchant caravan, she learned a trade, studying how to procure stock and balance ledgers. Eventually, she set out on her own to travel the world. Her upbringing as a daughter of the nobility meant that, even at fifteen years old, Rishe possessed a keen sense for beauty.

She collected things that caught her eye and sold them to whoever found delight in her wares. Before she realized it, she had become a major vendor, employing a full staff. She had even done business with the king of a desert nation and the prince of a frozen country up north. She traveled to many distant places, realizing a dream born from her cossetted former life spent doing nothing but preparing to be queen.

Five years passed, and just as she had only one country left to visit, Rishe fell victim to the war sweeping across the continent.

The next thing she knew, she was fifteen years old again and back at that party, with the prince poised to make his pronouncement.

“Rishe Irmgard Weitzner! You are a vile woman! A truly malicious creature unworthy of the crown prince! As of this instant, our engagement is off!”

Naturally, she didn’t understand what was going on at first. She looked around. Everything was the same. She stood in the same place wearing the same dress and draped in the same jewelry she’d sold to the caravan.

Was it a dream? Or was everything that had happened up until then the dream? In her confusion, all she could do was stare.

Rishe hurried out of the ballroom, the impending threat of exile hanging over her and the prince’s entreaties to halt ringing in her ears.

This is perfect! Now I can get it right! I’ll grab everything valuable from my room.

Rishe had enjoyed her life as a merchant, but she had always felt a stirring of regret about this night. If only she’d brought some funds from home, she would’ve had the capital to establish her business much sooner!

Speaking of this regret always prompted disbelief from her customers, including the king of the desert. “What?That’swhat you’d want to do over?!”

When she arrived back at home on the night of her second life, Rishe grabbed her jewelry box and as many of the books her late grandmother had left her as she could carry, then made haste to the forest to meet the caravan. But the stop at her house took time, and she missed them completely.

In that moment, Rishe made a stark realization. Different choices meant different mistakes. Opening one door would close another.

And so the easy path to a life in commerce was closed to her.

Sure, she couldtryto build her business from the ground up, but personal connections were almost as essential to being a merchant as business savvy. It just wasn’t realistic without a single acquaintance.

Sorting through her belongings in resignation, she came across a foreign encyclopedia of herbs among her grandmother’s books. Taking it as a sign, Rishe sold her jewels elsewhere and used the funds to cross the sea and pursue the study of medicine.

Fortunately, Rishe retained all her knowledge from her previous life. She remembered that certain expensive herbs could be acquired cheaply in other regions. When word spread of a disease running rampant in a neighboring country, she recalled that too. This foreknowledge proved invaluable, as did her wide travel and exposure to many different teachers with many different points of view.

As such, Rishe led a successful life as an apothecary. She saved a feeble prince, synthesized a number of rare medicines with her mercantile knowledge, and thus spent her days in the simple joy of helping those in need.

Unfortunately, all the joy in the world couldn’t stand up to an epidemic. Thus ended her second life.

Once again, she found herself in the moment of her broken engagement, the curtain rising on the third loop. Her next four lives proceeded much the same way. As a skilled lady’s maid, she helped a young noblewoman to a fortuitous marriage. Once, she even disguised herself as a man and became a knight. Every life was worth living, and she enjoyed them all. She enjoyed living, period.

There was just one problem.

No matter what I do, I die at twenty.

She enjoyed her lives, but she was not permitted to do so for long. With this time limit always hanging over her, she spent each loop in a state of constant activity.

I would love to take it easy for a while. Is a little leisure time too much to ask? Obviously I don’t want to die either! This time, I’ll make as much money as I can in the first five years. Then, when I turn twenty, I’ll live a life free of worldly cares. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to stay alive!

Her mind made up, Rishe began her seventh life in a dead sprint through the palace. Regardless of her future plans, she was in a race against time. She needed to beat the messenger bearing news of her scandal.

As she ran, she yanked off her hair ornaments; she planned to sell them and didn’t want to risk losing one. Her hair billowed out behind her, falling in loose waves.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to her, one she hadn’t had in any of her previous six lives.

Leaving through the palace gardens would be faster. I can climb down a tree from the balcony.

Rishe had gone to war as a knight in the life just before this one. After the punishing battlefield training, climbing trees was nothing.

Seamlessly, she changed direction. She raced for the balcony, where she ran into something at full speed.

“Bwargh!” Rishe let out a very unladylike grunt, staggering a few steps. She looked up to see what she’d bounced off of. “Oh…”

An exceptionally handsome man stood in her path.

He had refined, patrician features and cruel, thin lips. He was slender yet powerful; even through his clothes, Rishe could tell his body was well conditioned. His jet-black hair covered his ears, creeping down to the nape of his neck. The tips of his locks bounced with his movements. They looked to be soft to the touch.

From head to toe, he was a pleasure to look at—but what held Rishe’s attention were his eyes. They were long in shape and impossibly blue, but they possessed a blade-sharp intensity. His gaze was clear, beautiful, and cold as ice. His eyelashes cast shadows on his striking face. He was a work of art.

Currently, this work of art was staring her down with a look that could kill.

He laughed. “You barreled right into me. For a moment, I thought I’d been attacked by a wild boar.”

It was an exceedingly rude thing to say to a stranger, but as luck would have it, this man was not a stranger. At least not to Rishe.

“What are you even doing here?” the man went on. “The party is in the—”

Rishe interrupted him with a wordless shout of dismay. The man drew back, reflexively reaching for his sword. He composed himself with visible difficulty. “Who are you? You look like any noblewoman, but your manner is…”

“Emperor Arnold Hein!”

The man’s eyes widened. He didn’t mistake her surging contempt. Rishe had crossed swords with this man. Recently. He was the one responsible for ending her sixth life.

He must be a guest at the banquet. It makes sense.

Arnold Hein was the scion of a military nation not far from Rishe’s home country of Hermity, the one in which they now stood. Their kingdoms, so recently at war, had brokered an ostensible peace, and the two ruling families met from time to time. Crown Prince Dietrich’s engagement party would be one such occasion. He’d gathered elites from far and wide to introduce to his beloved Mary.

The man eyed Rishe with rising curiosity. “You know me? This is my first time in Hermity.”

Uh-oh.Rishe pasted on a smile as her mind spun in circles. This man was dangerous. She had to avoid entanglements with him at all costs. Five years from now, Arnold Hein would invade Hermity.

He was an extraordinarily skilled swordsman and, with a powerful military at his back, was destined to conquer kingdom after kingdom. He had done as much in her second, third, fourth, and fifth lives. In her sixth, Rishe had faced him in battle herself and died by his hand.

We never had a chance. That war was lost before it began.

Arnold’s brilliance lay not in his swordplay but in his skill as a tactician. He set countries up for conquest and knocked them down, swallowing them one by one.

I know him, but he doesn’t know me. We haven’t met in this life. I need an excuse fast.

Rishe curtsied slowly. “My name is Rishe Irmgard Weitzner. We’ve never been introduced, but I’ve heard of you.”

Arnold donned an amused smile. “You plant your weight like a trained swordswoman. Your center of gravity is perfect.”

“You exaggerate,” Rishe demurred. “That was simply a curtsy to an esteemed guest.”

“I must have misheard, but I swear you called me ‘emperor’ just now.”

Rishe froze.

“My father yet lives,” Arnold said. “I am simply a crown prince. Why would you call me that?”

“Uh, um…” Rishe floundered for an answer.

She’d made such a foolish mistake. Arnold’s gaze cut right through her. It felt like he’d see through any lie she told right down to her soul. She remembered this from the battlefield—how his attention alone felt like a sword thrust.

But why even bother to lie?They’d never meet again, so who cared what he thought of her? Sure, she harbored a hard feeling or two over the recent slaying, but there was no point complaining about it tothisArnold. Calling him the emperor was boorish, but Rishe was in the process of being forcibly exiled. Why play at diplomacy?

She took a deep breath and bowed low. This was not the curtsy of a noble lady but of a servant bowing in supplication to her master.

“My humblest apologies, Your Highness. I was in a rush. Such a rude slip of the tongue.” She raised her head. “My ex-fiancé just annulled our engagement, so I’ve got a lot on my mind. If you would excuse me.”

“He annulled your engagement?”

At that, Rishe turned and fled.

This unexpected run-in with Arnold had taken up valuable time. She threw open the door to the balcony and hiked up her skirts, kicking off her shoes in anticipation of jumping into a tree. Looking down, she realized the ground was far closer than she’d feared.

Excellent! I can just drop into the garden!

Arnold, who up until now had been rendered speechless, shook himself out of his fugue as Rishe clambered over the railing. “Hey!”

Rishe’s moonlight-silver dress flowed around her as she leapt. The lawn was soft, but the fall was still far enough to risk injury.

Weight evenly distributed on the soles of my feet, roll to transfer the impact to my shins and thighs, then onto my hips and my back.

She landed safely, rolled nimbly in her dress, and popped back up. Her hair was covered in leaves.

I need to hurry up!

Bracing against a nearby rock, she used her weight to snap the heels off of her shoes. There. That would make running a little easier. Satisfied, she slipped them back on and made haste toward the family estate.