Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

ON THEIR SECOND DAY at the Grand Basilica, Rishe and Arnold had breakfast in the dining hall, after which she saw him off to his duties and returned to her room. She took out a leather trunk filled with small bottles from under her bed.

After some contemplation on the contents, she retrieved three of the bottles. The uneven dents in the sparkling glass gave them a flowerlike shape. She stuffed the bottles in a small bag and headed for the floor Millia’s room was on.

Duke Jonal stood in front of the door.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

“If it isn’t Lady Rishe.” The duke turned to Rishe and put a hand to his chest, bowing politely. “I’m sorry. My daughter is still getting ready. I’m very grateful for your help with her festival preparations, especially considering you’re in the middle of your own ceremony as well. I fear that needing outside assistance means I am lacking as a father.”

“Please don’t let it bother you. I made a rather eccentric request myself.”

Her “request” was one of the things she’d gotten Arnold to agree to the night before. Realizing what she meant, the duke smiled and said, “Ah, yes. It wasn’t eccentric. I was very glad you asked.”

“I appreciate you agreeing so readily. She might be surprised when she finds out, though.”

A sulky voice rose from behind the door. “Papa, Lady Rishe, what are you two talking about?”

“Nothing, dear. Why don’t you come out already? You’re making Lady Rishe wait.”

Millia didn’t respond.

The duke sighed. “Are you listening, Millia? This is why I said we should have a maid come with us. It takes too long for you to get ready by yourself.”

“I can put a dress on by myself! I put it on just fine.”

“Then come out already. It’s almost time for rehearsal.”

“Please wait a moment, Your Grace. Could you stand down the hall for a short while?” Rishe had the duke move away from the door and then called through it, “Lady Millia, are you perhaps tending to your hair?”

She heard Millia gasp from behind the door and was confident that she’d guessed correctly. Reason number thirteen Mistress Millia won’t get out of her room in the morning: “Know that on humid days, my fluffy hair gets even fluffier!”

Rishe schooled her expression and whispered through the door, “If that’s the case, please allow me to assist you. Would it be all right if only I entered the room?”

There was a pause as Millia deliberated, and then the door opened just a crack.

Seeing that, the duke’s face lit up. “Millia!”

“You can’t come in, Papa! Only Lady Rishe can!”

“I apologize, Your Grace. Out of respect for a lady’s dignity, please wait a few minutes more.”

“Oh…” The duke was momentarily stunned by the rejection. Rishe left him in the hall and entered Millia’s room.

She was met with the sight of a half-crying Millia, her pale violet hair a poofy mess around her head. “L-Lady Rishe, I…”

The girl must have been struggling with it for some time. Gnarled violet strands wove through the brush in her small hand. No doubt she’d tried to muscle through and endured much pain as a result.

“What do I do? At this rate, we’ll be late to the rehearsal. But I can’t show myself to Papa and the archbishop like this!”

“Don’t worry. I can fix this.”

“But I woke up early and I’ve been trying this whole time! We’re not going to make it!”

There was a tray on her end table with what had been her breakfast. Her soup bowl was empty, but more than half of her bread was still there. She’d likely been struggling so hard, she hadn’t finished breakfast. We’ll have to fix this quickly so she can finish eating.

Rishe opened her bag and took the three bottles out. “Lady Millia, please open these bottles and smell them.”

“Do they smell like flowers?”

“Yes. This has the scent of a lily, this blue one has the scent of an orchid, and this clear one is lilac.”

Millia sniffed the bottles. “These smell good. What are they?”

“They’re oils for hair care. If we use these, we’ll be able to tame that frizz of yours.”

“Oil?! Doesn’t hair oil smell weirder, though? The ones I’ve seen have been kind of white too, but these are see-through.”

“These are made from the oils of plants, not from animal fat. They don’t smell bad when used in long hair, and they don’t solidify either.”

Most of Rishe’s preparations before leaving Galkhein had been for meeting Millia here. She’d not only prepared the stuffed bear she used in her magic trick but also several items Millia had liked in Rishe’s life as her maid, like homemade hair oils and hand creams. The three hair oils she’d taken out of her trunk were ones Millia had most often used in her other life.

“Which of these three do you like the most?”

“How do I pick?! I like all of them, but maybe I’m in the mood for lilac right now.”

“Hee hee hee. Then let’s go with the lilac today. Have a seat.”

Rishe had Millia sit in front of her vanity and dumped some of the oil onto her hand. The sweet but mild scent of flowers wafted through the room. She rubbed the oil on her other hand and started working it into Millia’s hair from the inside out.

“I’ve never seen hair oil like this before. Is it popular in Galkhein?”

“No, it’s most often used on the eastern continent. It’s hard to get a hold of on this one, so I made it myself.”

“You made this, Lady Rishe?!”

“Yes. It’s easy to do if you can find the ingredients, so I can teach you how to make it later.” Rishe finished applying the oil and took the brush from Millia. She combed through Millia’s tangles, and the unruly locks gradually settled down.

Millia watched the process with sparkling eyes. “Wow! It was so frizzy before!”

“We have a little extra time, so let me put some braids in it. Is that all right with you?”

“Absolutely!” In the mirror, Millia’s cheeks flushed. “It feels like back when Mama would do this for me,” she added quietly.

She probably hadn’t intended to be heard, so Rishe smiled and changed the subject as she braided Millia’s beautiful hair. “And how was your dress yesterday?”

“I gave it back to them without putting it on! The measurements were right, and I didn’t want to waste time changing into it.”

“My. Isn’t it better to see it on you so you can adjust the hem and sleeves?”

“But we’re dyeing it, aren’t we? Even if I think a white dress should be a certain length, that’ll surely change if it’s pink instead! In that case, it’s better if it’s finished faster. If we dye it and I don’t think it looks right afterward, we can adjust it then!”

“Hee hee hee, I suppose you’re right, Lady Millia.”

Millia then faced the window while they were talking. Rishe followed her gaze and found Leo walking through the courtyard. He wasn’t headed for the forest, so he must have been doing some chores.

“Do you ever talk to Leo, Lady Millia?”

“I don’t want to talk to him. I mean, he treats me like a child.”

“But you’re a year younger than him, right?”

“Oh? It’s not the years you’ve lived that determine your maturity, it’s your experiences!” Though she was saying things that sounded wise beyond her years, Millia was swinging her legs in her chair in a rather childlike manner. She then hung her head, looking gloomy. “Papa didn’t hesitate at all to take him out of the orphanage.”

Rishe tilted her head, sensing sorrow and loneliness in Millia’s words.

“Papa suddenly brought Leo home one day as a servant. Schneider asked him to ’cause he was in an orphanage run by the Church and he was starting fights every day.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Papa brought this kid home with him without even asking me, and you know what he said? He said, ‘Leo will play with you. And I want you to learn that there are children with all sorts of circumstances in the world.’”

Rishe thought she could see where Millia’s irritation was coming from.

“When I told my maids about this, they said, ‘How mean of the master. He should have at least brought a girl to be your friend!’ and ‘He should have thought of your feelings more, Mistress Millia,’ and ‘Why didn’t he just get a puppy?’ But that’s not what I’m mad about. What upsets me is—”

“That what Leo wanted wasn’t considered at all?”

Millia’s eyes went wide as saucers.

“No matter the circumstances of his birth, he should live his own life. He shouldn’t have been made your friend or a lesson about the world for you. But you were all anyone was concerned about, and you didn’t like that, right?”

“Um, yeah.” Millia blinked. “That’s right.” She considered her words for a moment before continuing, “I hated that. Why did Papa take him just because he was in an orphanage? Maybe he had his own reasons for starting all those fights too. But since Papa didn’t say anything to me before taking him in, I couldn’t imagine he’d asked Leo what he wanted either.”

“I would like to agree with you, Lady Millia, but you know that you weren’t completely in the right, don’t you?” Rishe asked, and Millia winced.

“You mean getting mad at Papa all the time without explaining my feelings to him?”

“Yes. You didn’t explain your feelings to your father yesterday or today, did you, Lady Millia? Why didn’t you tell him there was something that made you angry and you weren’t just throwing a tantrum?”

“…”

“You were so honest with me. Is there a reason you can’t be that honest with your father?”

Millia’s expression clouded even more.

This won’t do. She’s not going to tell me. Rishe sensed Millia wasn’t going to confide in her yet, so she gave up on that line of questioning and picked up a lemon-colored ribbon.

“How does this look, Lady Millia?”

“Wow! It’s wonderful!” Millia sounded thrilled when she saw herself in the mirror. Rishe had bound the hair on the side of her head in two high, small loops resembling the ears of a bear cub. Under those, she braided the rest of her hair around the back of her head, where she’d tied a ribbon. It was a simple but cute style that suited Millia very well. “What is this? It’s so cute!”

I know you liked your hair like this when you were younger, Mistress. Remembering days from her fourth life brought a smile to Rishe’s face. As Millia grew older, she stopped fussing for her hair to be done this way, but at ten, she was thrilled about it.

“Thank you, Lady Rishe! Now I know the rehearsal will go great!”

“Tee hee, we should get going, then. Your father’s still waiting in the hall. Can you give him a big smile when you go greet him?”

“Why, I can’t do that! I must greet him elegantly, like a lady, to match my hairstyle!” Millia pumped herself up and scurried to the door.

Rishe followed her, thinking about what she’d have to do next. There’s still plenty for me to do, though I can’t let this opportunity pass me by.

The rehearsal began shortly afterward, and it went smoother than anyone thought it would. Millia followed all the archbishop’s instructions and played the part of the royal priestess with solemnity and grace. She completed her walk through the cathedral’s nave to the altar with perfect etiquette, thus showing her pious respect for the goddess. When she recited the lengthy psalms with no problems, the bishops were all stunned.

Rishe sat in the back and observed the rehearsal with a smile. Mistress Millia is a hard worker. I’m sure when she was chosen to stand in for the royal priestess, she started practicing in secret.

Although Millia wasn’t Rishe’s mistress in this life, Rishe cheered her on all the same. She felt proud of the girl’s accomplishments.

Someone sidled up next to Rishe—it was Schneider. “This is fantastic. The rehearsal is going so well.”

“Greetings, Your Excellency.” Rishe acknowledged him with a smile. “I apologize for my behavior last night. Prince Arnold was taking so long to return that I just missed him to bits.”

“Ah, um, that’s quite all right.” Schneider grew sheepish, remembering the affair. He cleared his throat and turned back to Millia, who was before the altar. “I apologize for getting you wrapped up in the festival when you’re only here for your own ceremony, Lady Rishe.”

“Please, think nothing of it.”

“We truly appreciate it, really. To be frank, we probably should have chosen someone of a more mature age to serve as royal priestess, but…the priestess’s lineage has a certain hair color, you see.”

Rishe recalled the mural on the balcony she’d seen the day before.

“We chose Lady Millia to fulfill that aspect of the priestess’s appearance, even if she is only performing as a stand-in.”

“You’re referring to the line in the psalm about a girl with hair the color of flowers.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that. Most common translations of that psalm call her a girl the color of spring.”

“Someone told me how that psalm is meant to be read, you see.” She kept Arnold’s name a secret just in case. That made her curious about something else, however.

I wonder what Prince Arnold thought of that. What are the chances he noticed that when he read the psalms? Since it’s Prince Arnold, there’s a chance he realized everything from the get-go. If that’s the case, then his expression back then makes a lot more sense.

While she was deep in thought, Schneider studied her. His eyes were calm, almost lifeless. When Rishe’s eyes met his, he smiled and said, “You yourself have a lovely hair color.”

Rishe started. Schneider didn’t notice, but she was sure that Arnold would have.

“Someone with hair of your shade would have been picked immediately to stand in for the royal priestess. It’s a shame you weren’t born in the Holy Kingdom of Domana.”

“In a ceremony devoted to the goddess, faith and passion are of paramount importance,” Rishe replied with a smile, and Schneider’s eyes nearly popped out. “Wouldn’t you say, Your Excellency?”

“You’re…absolutely right.”

“Lady Millia is taking her duty very seriously. If I can help her complete her task in any way, I consider that a great honor.”

Schneider had gone quiet, so now it was Rishe’s turn to question him.

“If you’ll allow me to change the subject, you said something rather strange yesterday, Your Excellency. Why did you tell me not to marry Prince Arnold?”

“Er, perhaps we could discuss that at a later time, somewhere more—”

“Lady Rishe!” Millia trotted down the cathedral’s nave.

Schneider’s face slackened in surprise before he bowed his head and excused himself. As he left, Rishe watched him carefully. She caught Millia when she leaped into her arms.

“Guess what, Lady Rishe? I didn’t make a single mistake in my rehearsal!”

“You didn’t? That’s impressive, Lady Millia!” Rishe embraced her, and the girl’s cheeks reddened as she giggled.

“I have to keep practicing, though!” Millia said enthusiastically. “I mean, this dress isn’t the one I’ll be wearing for the ceremony, and we didn’t use any of the sacred tools! Since the real thing will be a little different, I’ll work hard so I can do it perfectly! I must be careful with the sacred tools, after all.”

“Ah, yes, the bow and arrows the royal priestess wields. On behalf of the goddess, she must shoot arrows with the power of each season in order for the cycle to continue. Isn’t that right?”

“Yep. Although during the festival, she only mimes shooting.”

The bow may have been a ritual tool, but it was still a weapon. Millia seemed a tad nervous about the prospect of handling it. Rishe squeezed her small hands, wishing to comfort her.

“Shall we dine together, Lady Millia? I arranged for us to have a special lunch in the courtyard.”

“You mean a picnic?!”

“That’s right. The weather is nice, so I’m sure it’ll be fun. The sun might be a bit bright, though, so you should wear a hat.” Having been the girl’s maid in another life, Rishe couldn’t help saying such things. She worried it might come off as strange, but Millia appeared unbothered.

“I’ve never eaten outside before!”

Rishe beamed at Millia’s innocent excitement, but the girl’s expression crumpled once Rishe brought her to the site of their midday meal.

 

---

 

“Wh…wh-why…?”

When they arrived in the courtyard and Millia saw the blanket laid out on the grass, she stopped in her tracks and began to tremble.

Rishe had been expecting this reaction, so she paid it no mind and began preparing their picnic. Then she invited Millia to join her on the blanket. “Come, Lady Millia. Please sit.”

“Wait, Lady Rishe! Tell me why he—” She jabbed her finger at the other person on the blanket. “Tell me why Leo’s here!”

“I’m not here because I want to be, Mistress Millia,” Leo grumbled.

“It’s rude to point, Lady Millia,” Rishe gently chided her, setting plates upon the blanket. “Can’t we enjoy our nice lunch in peace?”

“Well, I didn’t know Leo was going to be here! Why is he eating with us?!”

“You were concerned for him just this morning, were you not?”

“But…but this is so sudden! I’m not ready! And Leo, you never eat with us no matter how many times Papa invites you!”

Sulking, Leo replied, “Again, I didn’t want to come. I’m just here because I heard I’d get to eat tasty meat.”

Millia was shocked. “Y-you’re here for meat?!”

This was all part of Rishe’s plan. In her life as a knight, Leo was always aloof, but he warmed up a bit whenever they had barbecues in the courtyard.

“Please sit, Lady Millia. If you don’t eat quickly, you won’t make it in time for your afternoon practice.”

“Ugh…” Millia plopped down on the blanket with reluctance.

Rishe opened the basket and brought out the lunch the monks had prepared for them. There were big round buns split in half and stuffed with a meat patty and some vegetables, then covered in a tangy sauce. Very few dishes or utensils were required, making these the perfect picnic food. They would’ve been familiar to commoners, but Millia had never seen them before.

“Meat and vegetables in such a large piece of bread… H-how does one eat something like this?”

“You hold the bottom half with the wrapping paper and bite off the top. Be careful not to spill the sauce.”

“You eat it just like this?!”

Rishe nodded, and Millia timidly opened her mouth.

Leo piped up, “If you keep trying to be proper, you’ll just end up nibbling the bread.”

“Hmph! It’s my first time seeing such food!”

“Hmph.” Leo said nothing more. Instead, he opened his mouth wide—making sure Millia could see him—and took a bite of his food.

Millia watched him, stunned. “Your mouth is so big!” Eventually, she eyed the food in her hands and, steeling herself, opened her mouth. Then she took a big bite. At first, she was timid, only chewing a little bit, but after a few seconds, her eyes lit up. “Mmm!”

Evidently, she liked it. Rishe chuckled to see such a transparent reaction. Leo must have been amused too because he covered his mouth as if to hold in a laugh. “I’m glad you like it. Are you enjoying it too, Leo?”

“It’s all right.”

“Good!” Rishe sighed with relief and began to eat. She’d been worried about throwing Millia and Leo together, but they slowly warmed up to one another.

“Wh-what’s that sauce you put on your meat, Leo?”

“I dunno. I wanted to try it ’cause it looked spicy.”

“Huh? How could it taste good if it’s spicy?”

“I don’t think a child could understand, so you probably shouldn’t try.”

“I’m only a year younger than you!”

They would probably object if Rishe said as much, but the children were having a decently cordial conversation.

I still can’t tell how Leo might end up with his injuries. I’m curious about Mistress Millia’s “curse” too, but if it’s what I’m imagining, then it can’t hurt to improve their relationship.

Yesterday, Millia revealed she had the power to curse people. Those she rejected had been endangered. Rishe had to determine why Millia would think she could curse people before dismissing the idea.

Millia interrupted Rishe’s thoughts by asking, “Um, er, are you having any problems living with us, Leo?”

“Not really. Other than my employer’s daughter throwing crazy tantrums.”

“Why, you…!”

“Don’t be mean, Leo,” Rishe said.

Leo tossed the last of his bread and meat into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “I have my own room, and when I’m done with work, I can do whatever I want. In that sense, it’s better than when I was at the orphanage.”

Millia sagged in relief. With more than half of her lunch still in her hands, she then asked, “What was your orphanage like?”

“Are you asking just ’cause you’re curious?”

“N-no! I just want to know.” Millia hung her head, and Leo looked a little guilty.

He averted his gaze. “I’d say it was different for everybody there. For anyone who was good at being there, it was probably pretty comfortable.”

“And you weren’t good at it, so you were chased out and came to live with us instead?”

Leo harrumphed, then added something in such a quiet whisper that Rishe had to read the movement of his lips to know his words: “I had to leave because I was good at it.”

What could he mean? Rishe was curious, but she didn’t want to interrupt their conversation. She ate her lunch in silence as she listened to Leo and Millia talk.

“Bishop Schneider ran the orphanage, right? So is he like a father to you, Leo?”

“Of course he isn’t.” Leo’s curt reply startled the girl. “I owe him. He taught me how to live, but that’s all. I don’t have any parents.”

“I-I’m sorry for saying something so strange. You’re not blood-related, so I shouldn’t have compared him to a father.”

“That’s right. I’m done with my lunch. Can I go?”

“Oh, Leo! Wait, wait!” Rishe spoke up.

Leo made a weird face, half standing from the blanket. “What? I need to clean up before I start my afternoon work.”

“Your work this afternoon will be different. I asked His Grace if I could borrow you.”

“Huh?”

Rishe beamed as Leo grimaced at her.

 

---

 

The early afternoon found Rishe in the courtyard on the edge of the Grand Basilica with Leo and Arnold.

“This is Duke Jonal’s servant, Leo, whom I told you about last night.”

When Arnold fixed his eyes on Leo, the boy blanched. Rishe felt a little bad for him, but he would have to get used to it.

“And Leo, let me reintroduce you. This is…” Rishe peeked at Arnold, who appeared extremely reluctant. She tried not to let it bother her and turned back to Leo again. “This is His Highness Prince Arnold, crown prince of Galkhein.”

Leo’s knees gave out, and he muttered, “Why is this happening?”

“Say, Leo.” The boy raised his head and met Rishe’s eyes warily. The one-eyed future version of him had also glared at adults like this. She smiled at the memory and asked, “How would you like to learn martial arts from Prince Arnold?”

“Huh?!” Leo’s voice was equal parts surprised and frightened. He gaped at Arnold, blinking at the prince like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. When he saw that Arnold wasn’t correcting Rishe (though he did look displeased), he paled again. “Martial arts? Me?!”

“He’s really strong, you know. In the last war, he took out a whole company of knights all by himself.”

“I know tha—oops!” Leo’s hand shot to his mouth, worried that his outburst had been rude. Arnold didn’t seem to care, but Leo still felt like he was in trouble.

I’m so glad Prince Arnold agreed to this.

Rishe had proposed the idea the night before. Arnold had wanted to apologize to her, so she had gotten him to agree to three favors. The first had been allowing her to assist with the festival preparations, and this had been the second. Duke Jonal readily agreed as well. The rest is up to Leo.

She shot a glance at Arnold, and he seemed to pick up on her intentions.

“Stand,” he coldly instructed Leo. Arnold’s voice was dispassionate but carried well. He knew how to use it to great efficiency. Whenever he gave an order, it spurred the listener to perk up and carry out his instructions.

Leo was still visibly bewildered, but he pushed himself up. He straightened his spine and met Arnold’s gaze.

“Hmph.” Arnold narrowed his eyes slightly. “Walk a few steps in any direction.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Leo trooped a few slow steps around the courtyard.

“Stop.”

He came to a quick halt.

Arnold furrowed his brow and turned his head. “Rishe.”

“Oh, did you notice as well, Your Highness?”

Rishe tilted her head, and Arnold didn’t even try to hide his annoyance as he said, “What did you go and pick this whelp up for?”

“Well, I didn’t think I could do anything about it, but I was sure you would be able to, Your Highness.”

“You were, were you?” Arnold scowled and closed his eyes, sighing softly.

Leo was openly suspicious, but he still voiced his doubts clearly. “Can someone please explain what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Leo. Maybe my concern is unwanted, but I just couldn’t help worrying about you.” Rishe chose her words carefully and asked him, “You’re undergoing some kind of training, aren’t you?”

Leo’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Wha—how did you…?”

“You’re being pretty reckless about it too. Am I right in saying that you’ve injured yourself, but rather than allowing it to heal, you’re pushing yourself to keep training?”

“Why would you think that?!”

“Your body’s movements tell me so.”

The boy’s strawberry-colored eyes swam with uncertainty.

“It seems like there’s no pain anymore, but your right ankle has become weaker. You have a very particular way of walking because you’re unconsciously compensating for it. I’m guessing it’s easy for you to twist that ankle, but it doesn’t hurt much when it happens, yes?”

Leo winced. Though Arnold was silent, he seemed to be of the same opinion. Rishe had walked through the forest with Leo before she noticed, but all Arnold had to do was watch him take a few steps. He must have had formidable powers of observation to have picked up on it so quickly.

“Then there’s your arms. Your shoulders, more precisely. You’re overusing your right shoulder, aren’t you?”

“I…”

“It will affect your growth if things continue this way.”

Leo’s situation in the future when Rishe had known him was slightly different. His body had been battered in several places, and he’d lost his eye due to a harsh beating that his “previous employer” had given him. His limbs had been injured as well, and he’d had some difficulty moving them at times.

“It’s not too late now.”

Rishe was remembering her sixth loop. When she and the other knights trained in the courtyard together, Leo would often watch them even though he took every other opportunity he could to avoid people. Leo wasn’t watching us back then; he was just watching people practice their swordplay.

He had clearly yearned to participate. His gaze had been that of someone watching a dream they could never achieve, something he was no longer capable of doing. Rishe wanted to make it so that he never had to look at something that way again in this life.

I don’t know what causes Leo to lose an eye after this. Changing his environment is the best way to avoid that, but there’s no point in an alternative route that he himself doesn’t want to follow. The path one chooses to walk in life should always be a hopeful one, and it should be based on one’s own will.

So Rishe thought as she looked up at Arnold. “Well, Your Highness?”

Oliver had also injured himself by training too hard. At Arnold’s behest, changes were implemented in the knight cadets’ training to lessen the strain on their bodies.

“I won’t go against what you’ve asked of me. What matters most right now is what he chooses.” Arnold stared Leo down. “If you have the resolve, I’ll give you a foothold toward the strength you seek. But I have no intention of lending my aid to someone who lacks that resolve.”

“I, um…”

“Your employer has permitted whatever you choose. This is your decision to make.”

Leo hesitated, still a bit frightened. “If I learn from you, I have to go to Galkhein, right?”

“That’s right. It’s up to you how much time you want to devote to this, but you’ll have to leave Duke Jonal’s house at least for a little while.”

The boy’s head drooped. “I can’t go, then.”

Arnold looked unimpressed by his response. “Leo, are you sure you don’t have any regrets about this?”

“Of course I do.” At some point, the fear had disappeared from Leo’s expression. Instead, it was replaced by frustration. Leo looked up at Arnold, that frustration burning in his eyes. “So could you please train me at least for the duration of your stay here?!”

“…”

“I’ll use what you teach me to make sure I never push myself with my training again. Please!” he said, bowing deeply. His small shoulders quivered.

Arnold’s face was impassive as he said, “I’ll take some time starting this evening, then.”

Leo’s head whipped up, wide-eyed.

“I assume that’s fine with you, Rishe?”

“Y-yes, of course, Your Highness. While we’re staying here, you’ll be busy with your duties, though, won’t you?”

“The Church has already requested we extend our stay a few days. Apparently, if they’re forced to accompany me at the rate that I wish to proceed, they’re the ones who won’t last.”

Ah, he really doesn’t take breaks when he works, huh?

The presence of a Church representative was required for any work Arnold had to take care of at the Grand Basilica. It seemed that the pace he’d set was clearly too harsh for them.

Rishe turned her attention to Leo.

“Thank you,” Leo said with another sweeping bow.

As relieved as Rishe was, she thought to herself, He didn’t say he didn’t want to go to Galkhein—he said he couldn’t go. A strange response in his position.

Rishe hadn’t told him this, but there was something else she’d noticed. There was a good chance Arnold had as well. Now didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up, however.

“I’m sorry for springing this on you, Leo.”

Leo shot her a sulky look. “You should be. Don’t you think you should have explained this to me before bringing me here?”

“I thought you’d run away if I did.”

“Any commoner would run if you told them they were going to meet royalty from another country!”

Arnold regarded Rishe as the two of them spoke. “Do you know this kid from somewhere?”

Seriously, you’re too perceptive! Rishe shook her head, careful to conceal her internal panic. “No. What gave you that impression?”

“He’s awfully casual with you for some servant child.”

Tiptoeing around it, she whispered, “That’s because he thinks I’m a body double and not really me.”

Arnold whirled away from her at once. He seemed as stoic as always, but he had one large hand clapped over his mouth and his shoulders shook.

“Huh?! Your Highness, are you trying not to laugh right now?!”

“…No.”

“You’re lying! Hey, look at me!”

As Rishe circled Arnold, Leo reached out to her, flustered. His face was etched with concern, as if she might face consequences as a “body double” for being so frank with the crown prince. It was kind of him to worry.

“If everything’s settled, I should be getting back to work.”

Arnold totally ignored me!

Still, Rishe had her own work to do. She’d spent her morning helping Millia, so she should use her afternoon for the rest of the suspended ceremony.

This thing with Leo bothers me too. Even if he’s going to be under Prince Arnold’s tutelage, I can’t imagine that will change his future.

Just then, someone approached them in the courtyard.

“Your Highness, Lady Rishe.”

“Oh, Oliver.”

Oliver bowed and glanced at Leo. He hesitated for a moment, then stood beside Arnold and told him, “I have something to report to the both of you.”

“What, me too?” Rishe had a bad feeling about that.

Arnold frowned. “Give us the short version.”

“Very well. The festival may be delayed.” Oliver sighed. “The seamstresses finishing Lady Millia’s dress appear to have fallen ill.”

Rishe gasped. “What?!”

It seemed ill fortune beset whatever Millia rejected: first the carriage, and now the white dress.

 

---

 

“Apparently, the seamstresses have all come down with colds,” Duke Jonal said with a strained smile. He was sitting in the room they were using for their festival preparations.

Rishe sat across from him, having rushed there as soon as she heard the news. She took steady, controlled breaths through her nose to conceal her windedness.

The duke shrugged. “They were probably just working too hard with the festival fast approaching. The stress got to them, and they all collapsed at once.”

“That’s terrible. Can I ask what their symptoms are?”

“From what I hear, they have high fevers and are complaining of fatigue.”

Rishe frowned. That’s not good. She glanced sideways at Leo, who stood in a corner of the room as Duke Jonal’s servant. He looked displeased, but it probably had nothing to do with the postponement of his training with Arnold.

Turning to the duke, Rishe asked, “Lady Millia must be upset that her dress won’t be finished on time. I’d like to comfort her. May I ask where she is?”

“W-well…” the duke began, hesitant.

“I’m fine, Lady Rishe,” came a cute voice from behind him.

“Lady Millia?”

Millia appeared, the very picture of composure. There was a mature calm in her eyes. She was like a different person from the little girl who had been on the verge of tears this morning because her hair was uncooperative.

Two men stood behind her. One was Bishop Schneider, and the other was an old man who wore a symbol on his chest that indicated a higher rank.

Rishe stood and bowed, thinking, This must be the current archbishop. The archbishop Rishe knew from her other life was the next one. I’m not familiar with the archbishop or Bishop Schneider. That would mean the two of them leave the Grand Basilica sometime in the next few years.

“Lady Rishe.” Rishe looked up and Millia was standing before her with a gentle smile on her face. “I’ve reflected on my actions. It was my selfishness that made the seamstresses overwork themselves.”

“Lady Millia, you…”

“I’ve sworn to the goddess that I’ll be a good girl until the festival. I won’t need your assistance anymore.”

Rishe blinked.

Next to Millia, the archbishop smiled warmly and said, “Lady Rishe, I apologize as well on behalf of the Church. Given that you are the future empress of Galkhein, we cannot possibly take up any more of your precious time.”

“Don’t be silly. I enjoyed helping Lady Millia, and I was actually hoping to provide more assistance.”

“Thank you, but don’t worry about me.” Millia’s smile was innocent, but it drew a line between them. “I don’t need a pink dress. Any dress that can be prepared for me quickly is fine. It’s most important that the festival not be delayed! Isn’t that right, Bishop Schneider?”

“Yes, Lady Millia. It’s exactly as you say.”

Rishe knelt to Millia’s eye level and said, “Very well, Lady Millia. I won’t help with the festival anymore.”

The girl looked relieved.

“I just want you to know one thing.”

“What is it?”

Rishe remembered the past life they shared together and beamed at her. “I think you’re adorable when you’re full of energy, and I love you when you’re being selfish too.”

Millia’s honey-colored eyes swam for a moment. Maybe it was just Rishe’s imagination, but it looked like she was about to cry. Instead, however, she turned her back on Rishe and looked up at the archbishop. “Your Excellency, Bishop Schneider, we should hurry to evening prayer. It would be rude to the goddess if we were late.”

“Yes. Let us go, My Lord Duke.”

As they left, Bishop Schneider called out to the boy still waiting in the corner. “What are you doing, Leo? You must attend as well.”

“I know.” Leo was watching how the scene played out before he sulkily answered the bishop. He stole a glance at Rishe as he passed, but the moment their eyes met, he looked away.

Rishe was alone, but not for long. Oliver soon joined her.

“Lady Rishe, my lord will be coming soon. Would you mind waiting here?”

“He will?”

After they heard about the seamstresses, Rishe and Leo had made way for the basilica. Arnold, meanwhile, received another report from Oliver. Had he already taken care of whatever that had been about?

Eventually, heralded by the thud of his hard boots on the floor, Arnold entered the room. He looked at Rishe, frowning. “Oliver, leave us. Continue with what we discussed earlier.”

“Very well. Pardon me.”

As Oliver left the room, Arnold sat across from Rishe with a scroll in his hand. Still frowning, he asked, “Why the long face?”

“I was trying not to show it.” Rishe wore her sadness plain and pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I don’t think Lady Millia’s doing well. She tried to hide it, but she looked like she was about to cry. She only makes that face when she’s pretending to be okay. I’m worried.”

Arnold sighed and thrust the scroll toward her. “Open it.”

Curious, Rishe undid the binding cord. Once it unfurled, revealing its contents, Rishe gasped. “This is…!”

The first words she saw were “Investigation Report.” There was an illustration of a familiar-looking carriage and its various individual parts. The contents confirmed something Rishe already suspected.

I wanted to sneak out of the Basilica and investigate this myself!

In the middle of the page was a drawing bigger than the rest. It was the front wheel of a carriage and the axle connecting it to the vehicle.

“The front wheel of Duke Jonal’s crashed carriage was tampered with.”

Rishe’s heart rate sped up, but it wasn’t because of the tampering of the carriage. It was because Arnold had investigated the accident.

“The carriage didn’t belong to the Jonal family. They were using it because the day before they departed, that child threw a tantrum about wanting to ride in a white carriage. The duke granted the girl’s demand and sent out for a white carriage.”

“You suspected it was an accident someone set up and not a curse.”

“You didn’t?”

Arnold had asked it as though he already knew the answer, but Rishe couldn’t respond right away. After all, her personal experience proved that a strange, inexplicable power indeed existed in this world. Something surpassing human understanding happening to someone else didn’t seem peculiar to her, since she had redone her own life several times now. Therefore, Rishe couldn’t discard the possibility that Millia was experiencing was something similar. At the same time, she understood the chances were low. And now Arnold was showing her evidence of what she already suspected herself: The accident had been caused by human hands.

“I already thought it was odd.” Arnold languidly rested his chin in his hand. “Twenty-two years ago, the previous priestess died, and then her younger sister died ten years ago. Because of that, there was no longer anyone who could play the role of the priestess at the festival, so it hasn’t been held for the last twenty-two years.”

“Yes. The younger sister was of ill health, so she was in no position to take over the role.”

That girl had been the last female member of the priestess’s bloodline. The only remaining heirs were said to be a handful of men. The festival had been suspended while the Church waited for a girl to be born to the bloodline.

“There’s no reason to start using a stand-in now,” Arnold stated with certainty. “Holding the festival in name only to appease their followers is nothing more than an excuse. After all, if they truly believe in the existence of the goddess, then a festival with a stand-in is meaningless.”

He all but confirmed Rishe’s suspicions.

Prince Arnold thought so from the very beginning. Probably from when he first laid eyes on Millia. I didn’t think he would find out so soon even if he is the Prince Arnold…but now that I think about it, he can read the psalms too.

When she factored in his linguistic knowledge, it didn’t surprise her that he also knew the qualifications for the royal priestess.

As if to prove that point, Arnold looked Rishe squarely in the eyes and said, “It’s said that the priestess who inherits the goddess’s blood has hair the color of flowers.”

Millia’s hair was a pale violet color. The beautiful color of a flower that bloomed in spring.

“Common knowledge of the psalms doesn’t touch on this characteristic of the priestess. They likely translated the text in such a way to make it easier to hide the priestess when they needed to.”

“Like they’re doing now, you mean?”

“So you did notice,” he said with some amusement.

Rishe couldn’t immediately agree. It wasn’t that she had noticed—she’d already known for a long time. The memory she found herself recalling now was a confession she’d heard in her fourth life.

“Millia is not my daughter. She was entrusted to me by someone for a very important purpose.”

The previous royal priestess left behind a sickly, much younger sister. The woman was not able to succeed her sister’s duties and spent most of her life sequestered in a church. She finally gave up that life to give birth to a daughter. Her daughter had been raised in secret, and Rishe herself had lovingly watched over her as she grew up.

Arnold, who knew nothing about that, said matter-of-factly, “That child has the qualifications to be the true priestess.”

And that must be the reason…

The prince regarded her like he could see through everything, and Rishe stared right back at him.

…why you tried to kill her in the future.