Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

THAT NIGHT, Rishe knocked on the door to Arnold’s office and thrust out a basket at Oliver when he opened it.

“Oliver, please give this to Prince Arnold.”

“Um, Lady Rishe…what might this be?” Oliver smiled, but he was clearly hesitant to accept the basket. He must have heard something about the situation from Arnold.

“I made sandwiches as a late-night snack for His Highness.”

“A late-night snack, you say…” Still wearing a confused smile, Oliver tilted his head. “Perhaps this is too forward of me, but aren’t the two of you fighting?”

“Yes, it’s as you say.” Rishe nodded sharply for dramatic effect, thinking about the events of the last few hours.

After initiating her fight with Arnold, Rishe found herself at a complete loss. She had no idea how to execute a fight among lovers. She’d shut herself up in her room and sifted through her memories, but found nothing that served as a good example.

My knight captain was kicked out of his house, but I don’t want to do that to Prince Arnold. Also, my home is too far away to say I’m going back. I saw someone turn all her husband’s shirts inside out once, but I don’t want to interfere with his getting ready in the morning. That would only create more trouble for Oliver.

Her thoughts had gone around and around for some time. With the available options still on her mind, she’d joined her maids for dinner. They’d been surprised to see her, but when she explained that she was fighting with Arnold, they understood immediately. Eventually, the strategy Rishe decided upon was this:

“On the bread of the sandwiches, I’ve written a disparaging comment with sauce.”

“A disparaging comment. On the bread. With sauce.”

“Yes. It says, ‘Your Highness, you idiot!’”

Now she could hold her head high and say she was truly fighting with Arnold. There were plenty of other things she wanted to say to him, of course, but they were far too difficult to write with sauce. She’d decided to get her point across with something simple.

“Er…” Oliver made a strange face, then cleared his throat—and the air with it. He reformed his awkward smile and asked, “Lady Rishe, you went out of your way to cook just so you could fight with my lord?”

Rishe pursed her lips, letting her head droop. “If it’s just putting things between bread, I should be able to prepare a late-night snack without anything catastrophic happening…”

“Pfft!” Oliver clapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking. “Ahem! My apologies. Anyway, my lord said he would be working late tonight, so I’m sure he would appreciate a snack.”

What?! But I wrote something mean with the sauce! Rishe pouted, her conscience wounded. She wanted Arnold to enjoy something better than her terrible cooking, but they were fighting. Yes, that’s right—we’re fighting!

“Incidentally, did my lord have anything to say in regard to this fight?”

“Just ‘very well.’”

Once she made her declaration, the prince had gazed at her tenderly, stroking her hair. Then he’d spun right around and headed to his office. Rishe chose not to mention the hair-petting bit.

Oliver tapped his chin. “I see, I see… Oh, don’t mind me. Just considering everything that must get done before I can retire for the night.”

An attendant’s work was never done, and Rishe’s fight with Arnold was sure to affect Oliver.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for my selfishness to cause problems for you.”

“Think nothing of it. You have something you mean to get across with this fight, right? Then there’s no problem, really.”

Rishe didn’t know why, but Oliver truly seemed to believe that. Relief washed over her, and she snuck a glance at the closed door behind him.

“Are you curious about how my lord is doing?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose I am duty-bound to keep it a secret.” Oliver’s response surprised her, but his smile turned sweet. “Don’t worry. To keep things fair, I won’t say anything to him about you either. Ah, it seems your escorts have arrived.”

He gestured down the hall, where Rishe’s maids stood. They were carrying something Rishe had given them, patiently waiting for Rishe’s conversation to end.

“Ugh… Then I’ll excuse myself.”

“Very well. Thank you for the delivery.”

Oliver bowed, and Rishe strode over to her maids. Watching from a distance, she could see how worried they looked. She apologized, then led them to Harriet’s room.

When they reached the door, Rishe thanked them, took what they’d brought, and sent them on their way. Left by herself in the hallway, she forgot her fight with Arnold for the time being and knocked on the door.

It opened, and Elsie’s face appeared. “We’ve been waiting for you, Lady Rishe!”

Elsie had come to Harriet’s room precisely one hour earlier. Rishe wanted to ask how it had gone, but she realized that Elsie was already giving her the answer. Her face was glowing with anticipation. Rishe didn’t let her wait any longer and looked past her, into the room.

“Wow!”

Standing there in a cute, mint-colored nightdress was Harriet.

“Th-thank you for coming, Lady Rishe…”

Harriet was in front of a couch, her back ramrod straight as she fidgeted with her sleeves. The nightdress reached down to her calves, and its fabric billowed below her bust to flatter her waistline. It also complemented her green eyes and blonde hair. Her golden bangs were bound in a loose braid to finish off the look.

Her face was visible, in other words. Rishe was delighted to see the same green eyes as the ones belonging to the real Prince Curtis.

“Lady Harriet, you look amazing!”

“Urk! Th-that’s not… I mean, um…” Harriet covered her eyes out of habit, but she quickly—if jerkily—forced her hands to her sides and bowed to Rishe. “Thank you. Er, I’m sorry for borrowing Elsie from you. And, um, all the other things you’ve lent me, like the dresses and the purses…”

“Don’t let it bother you. It’ll be more fun if we have some direction for our shopping trips starting tomorrow.”

There was a pile of dresses on one of the couches in the VIP room. Rishe had brought them with her on this trip, but she didn’t plan to wear them all. If she was just going to bring them home without even putting them on, then she figured she might as well let Harriet try them on instead.

“Anyway, Lady Harriet, let’s cut to the chase.” Rishe glanced at the thing she’d given Elsie to hold—it was a large pot. With a grin, Rishe set it down on a table. Then she plucked a steaming-hot towel from inside. She’d heated it up in the kitchen while she made the sandwiches, and it was just about ready now.

“Please lie down on the couch, Lady Harriet!”

“Huh?! B-but, er, I couldn’t possibly do that in front of you, Lady Rishe!”

“Just sit here if you would. Now lie down, faceup, and put your hands on your stomach.” Rishe knew just how to lay a ­patient down from her time as an apothecary. She had Elsie wait out in the hallway and, once she had Harriet where she wanted her, placed the hot towel on her closed eyelids.

Harriet didn’t know what to make of the sensation. “Wagh! Wh-what is that? It smells kind of nice…”

“It’s a steamed towel with medicinal herbs inside it. The herbs help with muscle strain, and they’re more effective when you heat them up like this.”

“Muscles, you say… So, the muscles around my eyes?”

It was a thin towel, so the herbs would seep through it and into the skin below. The warmth of the towel would soothe the muscles as well.

“Just relaxing the tense muscles around your eyes should bring you considerable relief.”

Rishe was confident that she could alleviate some of the ­factors contributing to the “scowl” that bothered Harriet.

“Aah…” Harriet sighed contentedly.

Chuckling to herself, Rishe began preparing the other medicine she’d brought. “Are you feeling relaxed?”

“I-It feels very nice…”

“That’s good. I’ll write down the herbs and what to mix them with for you.” The medicine clinked in a bottle as Rishe mixed it.

Harriet was silent for a short time before she said, “Um, Lady Rishe, i-is it all right if I ask you a question?”

“Of course! Ask away. I can tell you anything from how to grow herbs to how to heat up a towel.”

“Did something happen between you and your fiancé?”

A heavy silence settled on the VIP room.

After a beat, Harriet exclaimed, “I-I-I-I-I-I’m so sorry! That was so utterly rude of me!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! I’m sorry to make such a fuss that a guest noticed it!” Rishe rushed to reassure Harriet before she could jump up, laying the princess back down on the couch. She hung her head, her voice coming out in a soft trickle. “We’re having a fight.”

“A fight…”

“I’m angry with him, so I threw a bit of a fit,” Rishe muttered, stirring the medicine with a glass stick. “It’s not even really a fight.” Her voice sounded even more dejected than she thought it would. “I told him I wanted to fight, and he just accepted it like he does any request of mine. I’m sure he doesn’t even intend to fight with me.”

After her little monologue, she realized with a start that telling Harriet all this would just confuse her. Before she could change the subject, Harriet spoke up.

“Could it be that you’re feeling lonely, Lady Rishe?”

A familiar pain flared in the left of her chest. “No, I…” She realized that she couldn’t deny it when she tried.

Harriet removed the towel from her eyes and sat up facing Rishe. “You’re angry with your fiancé?”

Rishe examined her feelings and shook her head. The feeling swirling inside her wasn’t anger—it was a more childish emotion. She was also aware that she was taking advantage of him.

“I’m sure I’m just sulking,” she said with a self-deprecating smile. “Maybe I am lonely, just as you said. There’s nothing I can do for him, so I feel helpless and pathetic. There’s an ache in my chest so powerful, it’s almost suffocating…”

She placed a hand over her heart and scrunched her brows.

“I’d like to do anything I can for him, but…” Her feelings didn’t reach him. Arnold himself had rejected them.

“Lady Rishe…p-please forgive me if this is too forward…and I might be saying something that’s totally off the mark, but, um…” Earnest olive eyes stared at Rishe with a strength she’d never seen before. “Perhaps he feels like he’s already received many things just hearing you say that?”

Rishe boggled at Harriet.

The princess’s anxious gaze dropped to her feet, but then she shook her head and lifted her gaze. “If someone who was close to me told me that…if I knew I had even one ally in this world who would say something like that to me, I…!” Harriet folded her hands on her chest, one on top of the other. “I think that would make me more than happy!”

At Harriet’s words, Rishe came to an unexpected realization: Even if I can’t do anything, just telling him that I want to is enough?

She blinked ever so slowly as it dawned on her.

Could my words really help Prince Arnold all on their own?

Though she wasn’t confident about the idea, she did recall something else: the promise Arnold had made after proposing to her.

“So long as it is within my power, anything you want will be yours.”

“Thank you, Lady Harriet.” Rishe smiled at the trembling princess. “I’ve realized that I do want to have a proper conversation with him after what you said. I really appreciate your consideration.”

“Y-you’re too kind!” Harriet shook her head frantically, then took a deep breath to calm herself. “I-I’ve never thought that I wanted to fight with His Majesty…my fiancé.” Harriet’s eyes swam as she picked her words. “I would never be allowed to do such a thing in the first place! All I can do is obey without complaint, like a doll…like a trophy queen…”

“Lady Harriet, you—”

“I thought I could never change what I was born with…that I was born a princess, that I was useless, that I had a face my fiancé would hate… I-I thought I had to apologize because it was all my fault… I always felt sorry for being born, but…but I realized something!”

There was a small light in Harriet’s eyes as she stared at Rishe.

“From someone else’s point of view, maybe it’s just a small thing. Th-they might say I just dabbed on makeup, put on a nice dress, and braided my bangs, but…that’s not how I see it.”

That radiant light, normally hidden behind her bangs, glimmered with tears.

“I can look in the mirror now. I was so excited, I couldn’t believe it when I got changed after my bath. My maids always kept their distance from me, but we talked so much today. It feels like everything’s different after just a few small tweaks.”

Harriet sounded like she was about to cry, but she held eye contact with Rishe and expressed her feelings in earnest.

“I thought that the things I was born with couldn’t be changed…but maybe they can be, at least a little. That’s a huge improvement, and it’s something you did for me, Lady Rishe… It’s like a dream to me that I can even think this way.”

Quietly, oh so quietly, she continued, “So…I think your words will reach him. I’m sure they will.”

Rishe gasped, and Harriet’s hands flew to her face.

“I-I-I-I’m sorry, I said far too much! I’m so embarrassed! I just know I’m going to be thinking about this in bed all night!”

“Lady Harriet! P-please calm down! It’s all right, really!” Rishe had to console Harriet after she sank into the couch. It must have taken a great deal of courage for Harriet to say what she had, but she’d made sure to get the words out for Rishe’s sake. That made Rishe smile. “Lady Harriet…I’m so glad we’re friends.”

“Friends?!” Harriet was dumbstruck, her olive eyes teary.

Lady Harriet is trying to change. The future that awaited her swept through Rishe’s mind. Problem is, I have no idea what leads to her execution. I can’t figure out Raul’s actions either.

“Pardon me, Lady Rishe…”

“Oh, Elsie!”

Rishe and Harriet startled at the knock on the door. When it opened, Elsie entered, shooting a nervous glance behind her. There was a group of women in white military uniforms there.

Those are Fabrannia’s knights, not Siguel’s.

“Ladies!” Harriet squeaked. “This is, er…”

“This won’t do, Your Highness. His Majesty wished for you to have your guards at your side when you’re with someone other than your brother or your maids.”

Three of the knights stepped into the room. They weren’t openly hostile to Rishe, but there was an imposing air about them.

Harriet shook her head, flustered. “B-but it’s only Lady Rishe, so—”

“It matters not whom you are with.”

“It’s all right, Lady Harriet.” Rishe smiled and put a lid on the mixed medicine. “I should be taking my leave anyway. Please put some of this medicine on your eyelids before you sleep tonight. I don’t want these dresses and purses to be in your way, so I’ll take them with me.”

“Ah! At least let me help!” Harriet stood and began to gather up the dresses and purses strewn throughout the room. Rishe accepted the offer, and she and Elsie took the garments and bags when they were done.

“Good night, Lady Harriet.” Rishe then addressed the guards. “I’m sorry for the trouble so late at night.”

“L-Lady Rishe! Um…really, thank you so much!”

“I should be the one thanking you, Lady Harriet.” She thought her fight would be able to make some progress after receiving Harriet’s words of encouragement.

The princess hung her head, embarrassed, then lowered into a curtsy. “Good night, Lady Rishe.”

“Same to you. See you tomorrow.” Rishe wanted to wave to Harriet, but her hands were full. They left the room and stepped into the hall, with Harriet seeing them off. “Those aren’t too heavy, are they, Elsie?”

“No, I’m fine! What about you, Lady Rishe?”

“I’m all right. It’s late, so let’s just drop these off and worry about organizing them tomorrow.”

As they walked down the hallway side by side, Rishe didn’t notice the way Harriet watched them go.

 

---

 

Once they’d dropped everything off in her dressing room, Rishe parted with Elsie and returned to her bedroom, sighing to herself.

I suppose Prince Arnold must still be working.

Alone in their double room, she found the silence deafening, which just made her remember something else. Something she would rather not think about.

The ghost!

In a flurry, she lit all the lamps in the room and fled under the covers. She stuck her head under the blanket, trying to escape from the crash of the waves, but her solitude still weighed heavily on her.

Rishe got up and out of bed, wearing the covers around her like a shawl. She went over to the window—or rather, to the bed that Arnold had slept in last night. Rishe herself had changed out the covers, the sheets, and the pillow for fresh ones this morning, so nothing Arnold slept on remained. Nevertheless, she felt surrounded by his presence as she settled into his bed, letting out a relieved sigh.

I doubt His Highness will come back here, she thought, burying her face in the pillow. I wrote something mean on his bread, and wanting him to sleep near me is just selfish.

She sighed again.

He’s not pushing himself, is he?

Rishe wished she’d at least asked Oliver whether Arnold was physically well.

He got wet in the rain today, and then he went in the ocean right after. Even for someone as fit as him, pulling so many late nights for work will only drain his stamina.

Worried as she was, she soon found it harder and harder to string her thoughts together. She was just as exhausted as he would be, after all.

“Your Highness, I…”

She knew there was no way Arnold was coming back, but she couldn’t help waiting for him. Rishe slowly closed her eyes and tried to fool the part of her heart that was ready and willing to wait.

 

A few hours must have passed by the time Rishe next opened her eyes. Oh, I fell asleep.

It was the middle of the night. She blinked a few times, and right when she was about to doze back off, she felt someone’s presence at her side.

Arnold was sleeping right next to her.

Wh-why?! What is Prince Arnold doing here?!

She sprang up, fully jolted out of her stupor, and scrutinized Arnold where he lay on his back with his eyes closed.

And he’s sleeping in the same bed as me?!

Was that because Rishe was using his bed? He must have returned after finishing his work and didn’t know what to do when he saw Rishe asleep. She didn’t know why he hadn’t simply picked the other bed in the room, but regardless of the reason, Arnold was sleeping beside her. She was in a complete fluster now.

Anyway, I must make sure I don’t wake him.

Since Rishe was camped out in the middle of the bed, Arnold slept on the edge. She worried he didn’t have enough room, so she tried to scoot over to the other side.

I didn’t think he would come back here today.

The moonlight pouring into the room from the windows went straight through the thin summer curtains. It bathed the bedroom in a dim light, casting shadows on Arnold’s pale cheeks from his long lashes.

Did he do it because he knows I’m afraid of ghosts?

She was almost sure of it. He had kept his promise that he would sleep with Rishe. The thought squeezed her heart in a vise as she clutched the covers.

I must go back to my own bed. I must!

Rishe knew that, yet she had a hard time making even the smallest move. Leaving would only make her lonely; perhaps she longed to keep watching his face as he slept.

Just then, Arnold’s shapely brows furrowed just the slightest bit. Had he woken up? Rishe froze, but he did not stir. His forehead shone with sweat. She found it strange at first, then realized it was only natural. He may have looked like a sculpted god, but Arnold was as human as she was. The beads of sweat made that more obvious.

It is stuffy in here.

She glanced at the window. It was shut because she’d been afraid to open it when she was alone. Arnold might have left it closed out of consideration for her. Though it was night, it was still the seventh month, and it would be difficult to sleep in a room with the window closed.

I should make sure his sleep is at least restful.

To do that, she had to make the room a little more comfortable. Rishe made up her mind to get out of the bed. She feared ­approaching the window but feared opening the curtain even more. She had a feeling that, if she opened it even the slightest bit, she would lock eyes with something beyond. Unluckily, it was at just that moment that a shadow passed beyond the curtains.

Rishe’s heart almost stopped. She clutched at the black sword she’d grabbed and kept careful watch over the window.

It’s fine. The only thing that moves that way is a bat.

That certainly matched the knowledge she’d picked up in her fifth loop, but she was still scared.

It’s not a ghost! It’s not a ghost! Rishe told herself. She held her breath and stood up, her whole body tense as she reached between the curtains. She groped around for the lock, unlatched it, and opened the window.

Slowly, quietly, so that he doesn’t wake up…

The ocean breeze swept in, rustling the curtains. Rishe exhaled at last and backed away from the window. She slipped back to the bed, let go of the sword, and settled back in next to Arnold.

There! I opened the window and there’s nothing outside. Problem solved!

Rishe tried to convince herself of that as she sat up in bed. She peered down at Arnold’s face, careful not to disturb his sleep. Sweat had plastered his bangs to his forehead. She wanted to brush them aside, but her hand stopped halfway toward him.

A pained gasp escaped Arnold’s lips. The sea breeze brushed against his sweaty skin, but his frown deepened. Maybe the sweat on his forehead wasn’t from the summer heat after all.

Is he dreaming?

Again, she reached out to Arnold. If it was a bad dream, she wanted to shake him awake. But if it wasn’t, then she wanted him to get as much sleep as possible. Trapped between those feelings, she hesitated to do either.

A moment later, her world flipped upside down.

“Eep!”

Something grabbed her wrist and pressed down on her shoulder. She sank back onto the bed, unable to lift a finger to resist as a weight settled on top of her. Both her arms were pinned on either side of her head, and she stared up into the sharp eyes of a carnivore.

Those icy eyes peered down at Rishe, widening only a split second later. As if speaking to himself, Arnold murmured, “Rishe…” He sounded like he was making sure of something.

Rishe kept her gaze on him, unresisting as he held her there. She let out her pent-up breath, went limp against the bed, and responded, “Yes, Prince Arnold?”

Arnold frowned, lowering himself over Rishe and collapsing on top of her.

“What is it, Your Highness?”

His throaty voice whispered into her ear, “I’m sorry…”

She flinched and squirmed at the ticklish sensation, but she couldn’t move with Arnold on top of her.

“Your hands…” Her eyes flicked to a pinned wrist. She could hardly even beg with him pressed so close against her. “Let go of me.”

There was a pause after her request.

“Right.” Arnold spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “I know.”

Even on top of her, Arnold wasn’t heavy; he must have been taking care not to crush her. He stayed there as he released her wrists. His fingers came away so slowly, it seemed as though he didn’t want to let her go. She felt like he’d been holding her tightly, but there wasn’t even a mark when he pulled his hands away. Rishe studied her unblemished wrist with unfocused eyes.

Eventually, Arnold sat up, freeing her. Rishe waited a moment before she sat up as well. She knelt in front of him and, with her newly freed hands, pulled Arnold into an embrace. Arnold gasped just beside her ear. She was only able to hold him like this because he’d let her go.

Rishe looped one arm around Arnold’s back and tenderly stroked his black hair with the other. “Did you have a bad dream?”

It was a question one asked of a child, but Rishe felt it necessary. Even if it was rude and required some courage, she couldn’t help wanting to embrace Arnold. He would deny it. She was ready for that, ready to be pushed away—but Arnold continued to let her hold him and lowered his gaze.

“I was dreaming about the past.” His hands slid around her back. “It all went away thanks to you.”

He wasn’t embracing her; in fact, he was barely touching her. But it seemed like permission to Rishe, so she held on to him tighter.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” She continued holding him and petting his hair. “It’s because I made it hard for you to sleep.”

Arnold huffed a short sigh and said, “This isn’t out of the ordinary.” Gentler, he added, “It’s not your fault.”

She remembered something he’d told her once. During their visit to the Grand Basilica, when Rishe had injured herself and they’d slept in the same bed together, he said he didn’t have any strange dreams afterward.

The dreams Prince Arnold fears are dreams of the past.

Rishe’s heart throbbed when she thought about what Arnold had told her of his younger years.

Does he dream about all the siblings murdered before his eyes?

Arnold had seen with his own eyes an event too terrible for Rishe to imagine.

Or does he dream about his mother, who hated him?

The prince had gotten the scar on his neck when he was young. There were many other things in Arnold’s past that Rishe didn’t know about.

I can’t ask about them, though.

The peaceful roar of the waves filled the room. The room quieted, feeling somehow more hushed than silence.

Rishe shifted back and studied Arnold. His face, devoid of expression, stared back at her—at once empty of emotion and thick with it. His blue irises seemed more boundless than usual. In the moonlight from the window, those bottomless pools ­appeared faint and transparent.

“The ocean…” She stroked Arnold’s hair again. “It was fun playing in it, wasn’t it?”

Maybe he found it baffling that she would bring something like that up for no apparent reason.

There isn’t much I can do right now, is there?

She had no right to know what Arnold had been dreaming about, no right to talk about it with him. Thus, she at least wanted to take his hand and lead him somewhere far away from that dream.

If Prince Arnold’s terrible memories won’t go away, then… Rishe wanted to overwrite them with emotions furthest away from the ones bound to the memories. She hoped that she could transform even just one of his dreams into something else. It was with this prayer in her heart that she recalled their time on the beach earlier that day.

Arnold’s expression didn’t change, but at length, he said, “When I remembered that beach was out there…” Rishe tilted her head, and, still expressionless, Arnold continued, “It occurred to me that you might like it.”

Surprised, she blinked her wide eyes.

“It’s just scenery to me, but…I thought you would find it beautiful.” Arnold’s tone was indifferent. He spoke as if nothing he said mattered, but he still made his feelings known. “Even if I didn’t understand.” He caressed her cheek. “But when I think about what might make you happy, I feel like I can understand a little.”

Rishe blinked again, not quite believing what was happening.

“It’s not just because you said you wanted to come here.” At last, he was answering the question she posed to him earlier. “I brought you to that beach because I wanted to show it to you.”

Arnold had once told her that he couldn’t feel the same way about the things she valued. To him, fireflies resembled the fires of war, and the sight of the capital was detestable. Yet he’d wanted to show Rishe the ocean because he thought she’d like it.

“I’m happy that you brought me there.” Rishe spoke slowly, pushing against the threat of her voice trembling. “I really am. So very happy.” She searched long and hard for the words she wanted to say to him, but in the end, she was only able to repeat clumsy sentiments. “I’m still happy…so happy I could cry…”

She wanted to put her arms around him again so badly, but before she could, Arnold pulled her into his instead.

“Oh, Prince Arnold…” Rishe was surprised, but she didn’t attempt to push him away.

Arnold tightened his grip on her and bent down, whispering in her ear, “You should resist more when someone shoves you down or wraps their arms around you.”

Rishe stubbornly embraced Arnold herself. “I trust you not to mistreat me, Your Highness.”

His lips curled into a self-effacing smile. “You believe in me that much, do you?”

“Of course I do. You know, you asked me who’d believe in something intangible.” Rishe disagreed with him there. “I’m afraid of ghosts. They may be intangible, but I believe they exist, and I’m frightened of them.”

She put into words the embarrassing truth that she would bare to him and him alone.

“And what about the faith people have in the Crusade Church? You saw it for yourself in the Holy Kingdom of Domana. That’s real, isn’t it?”

Arnold, who was said to have inherited the blood of the goddess himself, lapsed into thoughtful silence.

“Your desire to show me the ocean was also intangible yet real.”

She spoke softly, running her hand through his hair to comfort him. “I believe in those feelings of yours. I’ll tell you as many times as I must! I want to grant your desires too.”

Maybe mere words would support him. Thinking about what Harriet told her, Rishe looked Arnold square in the eye and asked, “If I do that, will you believe at some point?”

“In you?”

“No.” She didn’t mind if he didn’t believe in her. There was something else she wanted Arnold to understand. “That it’s okay for you to want things as well, Prince Arnold.”

Arnold sucked in a breath and held Rishe closer to him. “I’ve never desired anything from another person before.” His voice was husky as it rumbled in her ear. “You’re the only thing I’ve tried to bring to my side, though I know I have no way to keep you there.”

“Prince Arnold, please…” That familiar ache in her chest, up and to the left, stabbed at her.

Oblivious to Rishe’s feelings, Arnold whispered, “Be my wife.” His words were as soft as a kiss. “I don’t want anything more than that right now.”

“Ngh…” The pain was so bad, Rishe dammed her tears in ­desperation. She clung to Arnold’s back and somehow managed to say, “You’re not selfish enough.”

Arnold chuckled, that same self-deprecating smile on his face. “You can’t say that when I’ve forced you to marry me.”

He really did think of their marriage in those terms. It irked Rishe, and she pouted. “I had the last say about accepting your proposal.”

Regardless of what she said, it didn’t resonate with him. He laid a hand on her head as if to say she was wrong. “If you didn’t agree to it, I still would have taken you.”

Stuck between his arms, Rishe could only listen.

“No matter what I had to do…no matter how much you protested.”

Rishe frowned and squirmed in his arms, trying to back away from him, but Arnold wouldn’t let her. Still holding her, he lay down on his side in the bed. His arms loosened a little as Rishe settled in.

Rishe studied his face. “We’re still fighting.”

“Oh?”

“Because you refuse to see things my way.” Rishe put all her dissatisfaction into the phrase.

Arnold chuckled. “Very well.” He tucked Rishe’s hair behind her ear. When she flinched from the contact, he said soothingly, “I’ll play along as long as you want.”

He wasn’t even treating it like a real fight. That frustrated her to no end, but she couldn’t protest because he was regarding her so tenderly.

“Just close your eyes for now.” He put his arm around her again and patted her back. “We can continue our fight tomorrow.”

She didn’t think that was how fights were supposed to work, but she swallowed her argument and clung tight to him, closing her eyes. Fighting was hard.

Rishe fell back asleep thinking about what she could do to get Arnold to understand how she felt.

 

---

 

The next morning, when Rishe opened her eyes, Arnold was no longer in the room. She sat up in bed, blinking lazily as she absorbed his absence. Due to her sluggishness, she took about twice as long as usual to get ready.

Once dressed, she looked at the bedside table and found several documents sitting there. They were the currency exchange records that Rishe had asked Arnold to get her. Rishe picked them up, rifled through them, and exhaled.

I’ve got to thank him.

There was a knock on the door. Only one other person knew Rishe and Arnold were sleeping here, so when she opened the door, she wasn’t surprised to see Oliver.

“Good morning, Lady Rishe. I’m here because my lord kicked me out of his office.”

Rishe cocked her head, curious. The attendant flashed his refreshing smile with a hint of wryness.

“It happens often when he wishes to concentrate on his work. Sometimes, the mere presence of another person distracts him.”

“I see.”

“Since I’ve got some spare time, I wondered if there was anything I can do for you, Lady Rishe. Is there anything you require assistance with here, where you cannot call your maids?”

The reason Rishe slept in the same room as Arnold was because she feared ghosts. Her current sleeping quarters were kept secret even from the maids. Oliver knew this, so he was being considerate of her.

Rishe prepared to refuse him but reconsidered. “Well, Oliver, I don’t suppose I could ask you to help me with some physical labor?”

The dresses and purses she’d lent Harriet yesterday had been left in a haphazard pile in Rishe’s dressing room. They weighed a decent amount, so it would be of much help to have a man assisting her with the cleanup.

“I would be happy to. I have breakfast ready for you as well.”

“Thank you. Let’s get going, then.”

She and Oliver made for the dressing room on the first floor. On their way, they heard the pitter-patter of light footsteps approaching them. Elsie rushed up from downstairs, nearly bursting into tears when she spotted Rishe.

“Lady Rishe!”

“What’s the matter, Elsie?”

“I-I’m sorry to bother you with this so early in the morning, but…Lady Rishe, there’s something I…I…!”

Rishe ran to meet Elsie where she panted on the steps. “You’re so pale! It’s all right, Elsie, take your time.”

Shoulders heaving, the maid thrust out a burlap sack to Rishe. “I was sorting through the purses from yesterday in the dressing room wh-when I found this…”

The sack had a cord around it, but Rishe could see through the loosened opening. Her eyes bugged out at the glittering sight. “Galkhein gold coins?!”

Indeed, the burlap sack was filled with gold coins that bore an eagle design. Moreover, Fabrannia’s national emblem was embroidered on the sack. It was obvious at a glance that this was not one of Rishe’s belongings.

This was among my purses because…!

Rishe understood the situation in an instant. This bag ­belonged to Harriet. The contents were the Galkhein currency the king of Fabrannia had entrusted to her. It had ended up in one of Rishe’s purses yesterday, in Harriet’s room. The question was why it had ended up there.

Did it just get mixed up with them when we were leaving the room because we were in a hurry? No, that’s not possible.

The purses had all been left on a couch in the room. It was hard to imagine Harriet just leaving this sack of money lying around like that.

“Elsie, do you remember which purse this was in?”

“Yes. It was the red one with the thin chain for a handle.”

Rishe summoned her memories of the night before and drew a mental picture of Harriet’s room. The red purse was on the center of the couch, surrounded by all the other purses.

Back then…

The Fabrannian knights had shown up, and Rishe had vacated the room. It wasn’t Rishe or Elsie who had gathered up the purses on the couch but Harriet.

Lady Harriet put this gold into my purse!

Rishe regretted her own inadequacy from the bottom of her heart. She’d been too preoccupied with the knights to pay attention to Harriet’s actions. Though she knew the princess had done it, she still didn’t know why.

“What do we do, Lady Rishe?” Pale-faced, Elsie voiced her worry. “People will think you stole this money from Lady Harriet!”

That would undoubtedly lead to a serious international incident.

Listening to all this, Oliver turned to Rishe, his characteristic smile gone from his face. “Could I trouble you for the details on this matter?”

Oliver was usually composed at all times, but there was tension in him now. Rishe had heard that he’d been on the path to becoming a knight before an injury cut that path off for him ten years ago, but he must have had great skill. Still, whatever Oliver heard would end up getting back to Arnold, so Rishe had to be careful with her words.

Before answering, she studied the sack in her hands and gasped. It can’t be!

She opened the sack and plucked out one of the coins. The surface, carved with the emblem of Galkhein, shone mirror-like.

The reason Lady Harriet would do something that might ­implicate me or Elsie…

Her own eyes stared back from her reflection in the coin. At that moment, the information she’d asked Arnold to collect flashed through her mind. She put it together with what she knew from her previous lives and came to one conclusion.

So that’s why you’re executed in the future, Lady Harriet.

Rishe steadied herself with a breath, then looked up at Oliver. “I’ll explain everything at some point, but could I ask you for a favor first?”

She took a moment to calm the panicking Elsie and then sent Oliver to take action. Though she couldn’t keep what she was about to do from Arnold, she didn’t want to interrupt him when he was concentrating on his work. If he found out about the matter on his own, it would just cause him a different sort of trouble.

Oliver agreed to put off his report to Arnold while Rishe made several preparations. And after breakfast, Rishe visited not Harriet but someone else.

“Well, hey. I’m thrilled you’d go out of your way to come see little old me.”

Rishe sat across the table from Raul in his Curtis disguise. Oliver stood behind her. She’d set up this meeting with Raul beforehand, so he had no guard detail.

Raul prepared some tea for her. “It’s an unusual color, isn’t it? I used to drink it in my homeland.”

The jade-green tea had a distinctive aroma. Raul had enjoyed this tea in Rishe’s fifth loop as well and had often shared it with their troop.

“How about you, Mr. Silver-haired Attendant? Would you like a cup?”

“No, thank you.” Oliver declined, the picture of politeness, but there was an edge to his tone. Arnold must have told him that this “Curtis” was a fake. He probably also knew that Rishe had noticed but hadn’t informed Arnold about it.

“Let’s cut to the chase, then,” Raul said after sipping his tea.

Rishe took a sip as well, enjoying the bitter flavor she hadn’t tasted in quite some time. She replaced the cup on the saucer and met Raul’s eyes. “Thank you for stationing Siguelian knights around Lady Harriet’s room.”

“Well, first you tell me, ‘I want to talk, so make some time,’ and then you say, ‘Shut Harriet in her room and increase her guard.’ It’s easy enough to convince the girl herself to stay in, but it took some work to get that head maid of hers and the Fabrannian knights to agree.”

Rishe appreciated that for a moment before she said, “I’d like to cooperate with you on what you came here to do.”

“What I came here to do, you say?” Raul smirked and leaned back in his chair. “As you can see, I came here in Curtis’s place. He’s not well at this moment, but our crown prince can’t very well sit out the wedding of Galkhein’s crown prince, can he?”

“That’s a lie. I seriously doubt you’re here on orders from Siguel’s royal family.”

Maybe it was just that he hadn’t been granted permission, but Rishe knew Raul’s thought process. If he knew he wouldn’t obtain permission from the royal family, then he wouldn’t even ask. He would just sneak out of the country and make a move on his own.

“If you were here impersonating Prince Curtis for the royal family, then you would have committed to the disguise. You wouldn’t have shown yourself to me without the disguise or given me your real name, right?”

“You seem to have a high opinion of me.”

Of course I do.

Her time beside him as a hunter had taught her just how brilliant Raul was at disguising himself. If he was serious about impersonating Curtis, then he wouldn’t do anything the real Curtis wouldn’t do, even by mistake.

“What could I do, though? The moment I stood in front of you as Curtis, I knew you’d seen right through me. There was no hiding it then.”

“That’s a lie as well. I gave no indication that I knew you were a fake, but you didn’t make use of my silence. Instead, you came to see me of your own volition, which just doesn’t make sense to me.” Rishe had been wondering about his motivation all this time, and she’d finally figured it out. “If you were acting on orders from the royal family, then you wouldn’t do anything that could offend Prince Arnold. From what I hear of Prince Curtis from Lady Harriet, I can’t imagine him being the type to do so. So I wondered why you kept approaching me as if you were trying to make advances on me.”

He chuckled. “That’s ’cause you’re so cute.”

“Another lie.” Rishe returned Raul’s amused look with a weary one. “You’re here to save Lady Harriet from Fabrannia, aren’t you?”

Raul gave her some slow blinks.

“Lady Harriet’s contact with men is strictly limited. They aren’t even allowed to act as her guards. Even if you disguised yourself as a woman, you still wouldn’t be able to get past her Fabrannian knights.”

Rishe had proved that herself yesterday. She’d gotten in trouble for meeting with Harriet when her guards weren’t present, and they’d all been irked with her when she left.

“If you wanted the chance to be alone with Lady Harriet, it makes the most sense to disguise yourself as Prince Curtis, a close family member.”

“I see. So that’s what you’re thinking. You figure I didn’t put in the effort to perfect my disguise for you and Arnold Hein because it was Fabrannia that I was trying to deceive.”

“No. If we didn’t realize you were a fake, you would have revealed your deception yourself when everything was over, right?” she asked, and Raul looked surprised. “What you’re doing is too dangerous. If Prince Curtis helped Lady Harriet escape, it would be taken as a betrayal of Fabrannia on Siguel’s part. If you were doing this for the royal family, you would have to guarantee that someone would reveal you weren’t the true Prince Curtis.”

He hadn’t exposed himself to Rishe on a whim or to make advances on her. It was so that she would be able to provide ­evidence that he wasn’t the real Curtis. The reason he didn’t cover his eyes with his bangs like Harriet did was because the difference in color was evidence.

Raul grinned, nonchalant as always. “Why would I save Harriet in the first place? Because the king of Fabrannia ignores her and she’s not treated well? Such things are commonplace. No bride is going to be happy in a political marriage, and Harriet knows that too.” He narrowed his eyes and said cynically, “There’s no need to save her.”

“If it were just that things aren’t going well between her and her fiancé, that might be true,” came Rishe’s deliberate reply.

“Oh?”

“Last night, I lent Lady Harriet one of my purses, and when it was returned to me, this was inside it.” Rishe loosened the strings of the burlap sack so that Raul could see the contents and placed it on the table. “I determined that Lady Harriet is the only one who could have put it there.”

Raul studied it without a change in expression. “I see. Harriet’s trying to paint you as a thief, then?”

“Of course not. These are nowhere near valuable enough for that accusation to stick.” Rishe reached out and retrieved a coin from the bag. The coin shined like a mirror, not a single mark or scrape from actual circulation anywhere on it.

“I heard from Lady Harriet’s head maid that His Majesty the king gave her plenty of Galkhein currency and told her to spend to her heart’s content in Galkhein.”

On that fact alone, the king wanted his fiancée to spend as lavishly as her heart desired, but that wasn’t quite accurate.

“These coins would have been circulating in Fabrannia instead of Galkhein then, right?”

“Nothing strange about that. There are currency exchange shops in this town that deal in foreign coins, right? If people from Galkhein travel and trade in Fabrannia, then they’ll use Galkhein currency over—” Raul stopped short, and Rishe nodded.

“You’ve noticed? If they were collected in Fabrannia after circulating there, I would have no suspicions…but these coins are very clean. Freshly minted currency is rare even in its country of origin. And these look brand new.” She held out the coin to Raul. “Why do you suppose coins from Fabrannia all look pristine, without any signs of changing hands?”

“That’s a mean-spirited question to ask,” Raul said, taking the coin and holding it up to his eye. “You realized ages ago that it’s counterfeit money produced in Fabrannia.”

As she’d expected, Raul had picked up on it as well. The coins being too new wasn’t proof that they were fake, but their existence was suspicious when Rishe considered the data she’d had Arnold gather from the currency exchanges. She had requested the information wondering if she could track Galkhein’s business ­dealings with foreign countries through data on ­currency exchanges. There were no records over the last few years of Galkhein gold coins being exchanged for the more valuable Fabrannian gold coins in the data.

It was strange for someone from a country without a significant trade agreement with Galkhein to have a burlap sack filled with Galkhein gold coins when there were no records of exchanges occurring in the closest port town. If there were any doubts as to the coins’ authenticity, it would be simple to have them appraised to determine if they were genuine or not. Rishe had done several such appraisals herself in her first loop, and she was certain that these coins were cheap fakes that did not contain the legal gold content that would mark them as genuine.

“I’m sure Fabrannia’s government is involved in the production of these coins. I can’t imagine that Lady Harriet had them produced herself.” Harriet wasn’t even allowed to read books at her leisure. Someone who was denied even a simple freedom like that would never be able to arrange for the creation of counterfeit money on her own.

Raul crossed his legs and cupped his chin. “How mysterious. What reason could Fabrannia have to create Galkhein currency?”

“Counterfeit money is always created with material that doesn’t add up to the value of the currency itself. In other words, it allows you to use cheap material to obtain expensive goods.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh. So Fabrannia wants to strike it rich in Galkhein, then.”

“There are a few different reasons why a country might create counterfeit versions of another country’s currency.” Rishe grimaced as she recalled what she knew of the future. “The circulation of counterfeit money harms that country’s economy.”

Counterfeit money always caused economic disruption. She’d witnessed it herself in the future. Fake money was discovered in several countries, which led to decreased trust in those currencies and the need to authenticate money for even the smallest transactions. That slowed the economies of the affected countries immediately. Fabrannia was one of the countries rife with counterfeiting, she recalled. But in all her previous lives, it was always attributed to Queen Harriet and her other alleged crimes.

It’s possible Lady Harriet really did buy up jewelry from other countries. Rishe clenched the skirt of her dress in her fists. I wonder if that was because the king ordered her to do so. She wasn’t living lavishly, but obtaining valuable goods from foreign countries using counterfeit currency.

At this very moment, she had been instructed by the king of Fabrannia to spend the counterfeit currency he’d given her while she was away in Galkhein.

Everything I heard about Lady Harriet in my past lives was about how she bought foreign goods, not domestic ones. If she just wanted jewelry and dresses, it would be easy enough to obtain them from inside Fabrannia.

But she hadn’t because she was spending counterfeit money to obtain foreign treasure.

All that counterfeit money was produced by the Fabrannian royal family to enrich Fabrannia… It’s all so shortsighted.

To protect Galkhein’s economy, Arnold was working on a way to prevent foreign countries from suffering from a shortage of gold and silver. He knew that if his own country was to prosper, their partner trading countries had to prosper as well. Fabrannia’s scheme, meanwhile, would inevitably lead to their own ruin.

Fabrannia’s economy will be in total collapse in four years. I’ve seen it.

The nation blamed it all on Queen Harriet, making her a scapegoat for their citizens’ ire.

I bet they executed Lady Harriet in part to silence her. As the “heinous criminal” that she was, any testimony she could give about the counterfeit money would be dismissed.

Rishe’s heart ached for the Harriet in all her previous lives.

While their people starved, the Fabrannian royal family hoarded wealth. That’s how they were able to manipulate Siguel into fighting against Galkhein for them.

It was all too clear to Rishe that the Fabrannian royal family was more interested in winning the war against Galkhein than feeding their starving people.

“Even when merchants were summoned here to the castle, Lady Harriet was terrified of interacting with them. But I don’t think she feared being scolded by her head maid or purchasing expensive goods—I’m guessing she was afraid of using the counterfeit money her fiancé had ordered her to spend.”

Now that Rishe thought about it this way, the little “mistake” Harriet had made yesterday started to make sense. “When we went out into town to shop, Lady Harriet said she’d forgotten her Galkhein currency in her room. It would have taken too much time to go back and get it, so she ended up exchanging the Fabrannian currency she had on hand for Galkhein coins.”

“Hmm…”

“I would posit that she didn’t forget the money. She made a decision, a spontaneous one, not to use the counterfeit currency even though she would have been reprimanded for it.”

Harriet had volunteered to get herself ready before their shopping trip instead of relying on her maids to prepare her things. Her head maid had been exasperated over her forgetting the coins, but it seemed to Rishe that she’d done so deliberately.

“I don’t think Lady Harriet was trying to implicate me in a crime.” She looked into Raul’s eyes and said, “Instead, I believe that she’s trying to confess. To what Fabrannia—and she herself—is attempting to do.”

She must have decided to come clean last night, but the Fabrannian knights had intruded on their conversation, therefore impeding her confession to Rishe.

“The Fabrannian knights told Lady Harriet that she was to have her guards at her side when she was with someone other than her brother or her maids. That’s why Lady Harriet must have thought this was her last opportunity to tell me and hid the sack in my purse.”

The reason Fabrannia wanted to keep other people away from Harriet as much as possible was because they feared her confessing their secrets.

“Oliver. The king of Fabrannia pursued a marriage to one of Prince Arnold’s sisters, but it didn’t work out. Do I have that right?”

“Yes. They’ve pursued friendly relations with Galkhein several times since, but His Majesty doesn’t seem interested.”

In the future, Fabrannia used Harriet’s “crimes” as a pretext to cow Siguel into fighting for them in their war with Galkhein. It seemed that their own profit wasn’t their only motive for their actions; they held a grudge against Galkhein too. Perhaps the king resented Galkhein for refusing his marriage to one of their princesses.

The relationship between Galkhein and Fabrannia wasn’t very friendly in all my past lives either. There was very little trade between them, so there wouldn’t have been much circulation of Fabrannia’s counterfeit currency in Galkhein.

This time around, Harriet was visiting Galkhein as Siguel’s princess.

“Would you say that Galkhein’s being the closest powerful country to Fabrannia factors into the latter’s desire for a close relationship?” she asked Oliver, who nodded in response.

“If the matter of the counterfeit money is true, then their aim is to obtain wealth from Galkhein and weaken our economy at the same time. If they were able to trade with us, they would stand to profit even more from their counterfeiting.”

The design of Galkhein’s current coinage didn’t require too much skill to imitate. There had been several incidents of counterfeiting already. But this was a crime on an international level, committed by a foreign power.

“You noticed the counterfeit money, didn’t you, Raul?” Rishe locked on to his red eyes. “If Lady Harriet was implicated in the crimes of her fiancé’s family, she wouldn’t be the only one who’d suffer. Eventually, Siguel would get caught up in it as well, leading to a disaster for the whole nation.”

Yet again, this was something Rishe had seen for herself in each of her past lives. After Harriet’s execution, Fabrannia used twisted logic to demand reparations from Siguel. Having no noteworthy assets other than their books, and having always ­relied on their allies for protection, Siguel had no choice but to give in to their demands. Since they had no wealth with which to pay monetary reparations, they were instead forced to participate in a reckless war.

Many people died in that war. Raul himself likely hadn’t escaped unscathed. Rishe didn’t know what became of Siguel in the end, since she herself had been a casualty.

“Isn’t that why you made up your mind to save Lady Harriet? With or without orders from the royal family?”

Ever since Harriet left for Fabrannia to prepare for her wedding, she hadn’t been allowed to return home once. The only ­reason she was in this country was to celebrate Rishe and Arnold’s wedding. If not for this chance, Harriet would have no opportunities to see her brother or Raul, so it had been impossible to save her in every one of Rishe’s previous lives.

“Fabrannia merely permitted Lady Harriet to leave because she had to attend my wedding. And since she was here, they seized the opportunity to have her circulate some counterfeit currency.”

Harriet’s presence here was a unique opportunity for Fabrannia. The same went for Raul.

Without this wedding…if Prince Arnold and I weren’t getting married, Raul wouldn’t have been able to get close to Lady Harriet. Out of all my lives, the seventh is the first one where there’s a chance to save her.

When she thought about it, it made sense that Raul would go so far as to disguise himself as Curtis to not waste this opportunity.

“Good grief.” Raul uncrossed his legs and tilted forward, hiding his face. “I can’t believe this. To think Harriet of all people would reveal the counterfeit currency to you…”

“Look, Raul. It might still be difficult to get Prince Arnold’s help at this point.”

Rishe knew that Arnold was kind, but he was also incredibly pragmatic and always cautious of his father. As with Coyolles, he wouldn’t give his assistance to another country without gaining something in return.

“But if there’s anything that I can help with, I’d like to do so.”

Raul took a deep breath. Then his shoulders began to tremble. Before Rishe could determine what that meant, he threw back his head and burst out laughing.

After his amused outburst, he looked at Rishe and smiled. “Just kidding!” He stuck his tongue out, and his smile turned to a smirk. “Oh man, you had me sweating! I mean, you were being so sweet to that silly little princess. I was worried she might get ­attached to you and spill the whole thing.” Raul propped his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand, examining Rishe. “Like you said, I knew about the counterfeit money. Not only that, but I knew what King Walter ordered Harriet’s knights to do too.”

Siguel ordered the hunters to investigate Fabrannia, then. I thought they might have.

She didn’t hear anything about the counterfeit money in her fifth life, though. Now she wondered if Raul had even reported what he’d learned to Siguel’s royal family.

“Obviously, those knights were ordered to keep anyone from getting too close to Harriet. Her brother, Curtis, was only allowed to be around her because there was nothing he could do even if he found out about the counterfeit money. With Fabrannia holding their princess hostage, Siguel would be forced to keep quiet.”

“So you didn’t report the counterfeit money to them because you knew there was nothing they could do?”

“Maybe…but they’ve got some other funny little orders too.” Raul held up two fingers next to his face. “First, they must watch Harriet to make sure she spends the counterfeit money like she’s supposed to. Even if she pretended to forget it in her room, I doubt they would have let that happen again. Then there’s one more thing…”

There was a sharp glint in his red eyes. “If anyone finds out about the money…then they’re supposed to kill Harriet.”

Rishe and Oliver gasped.

“Why would they kill Lady Harriet?!”

“Well, there’s the obvious reason of keeping her quiet. I’m sure you can guess the other reason, seeing as how you stepped up to protect her yourself.”

Frowning, Rishe voiced her theory: “If Lady Harriet is killed in Galkhein, Galkhein must bear some responsibility.”

“Exactly! Poor King Walter would definitely blame Galkhein in his grief over losing his beloved fiancée. He could demand a vast sum of money as compensation, or perhaps a replacement bride.”

“What shallow plotting,” Oliver muttered beside Rishe. His voice was as gentle as ever, yet it contained a chill.

Raul laughed heartily. “No matter what I say, it’s all just the prattle of a Curtis impostor. No one would believe the Fabrannian royal family was trying to execute such a ludicrous plan.”

“Raul, you’re—” Rishe stopped short and immediately put a hand to her mouth.

“Lady Rishe? What’s the matter?” Oliver asked anxiously.

Rishe didn’t respond, instead squeezing her eyes shut and keeping her hand pressed to her lips.

“Oh? Is the drug starting to take effect?”

“You bastard…what did you do to Lady Rishe?” The hostility radiating from Oliver was so intense, it could’ve seared Rishe’s cheek.

“Oliver!” Rishe reached out and gripped Oliver’s jacket. She felt him start at her touch.

“You’ll lose consciousness soon,” Raul said. “Right around now, I bet your limbs are going numb and it’s getting harder for you to speak.”

“Raul…you…”

“At this time, I’d say the Fabrannian knights and Siguelian knights…my subordinates, in other words…are taking Harriet outside the castle.”

Rishe shot Raul an icy glare, and he shrugged.

“You thought I was trying to save Harriet? You think too much of me. My actual plan was to give Harriet’s head to Fabrannia as a little present and then switch sides.”

“Ngh…”

“You wanted Siguel’s knights to protect Harriet from Fabrannia’s while we were chatting, right? Well, sorry to say I’ve already betrayed Siguel. I’m actually in cahoots with Fabrannia.” Raul stood and stretched.

Unable to get up, Rishe chased after him with her words. Through shallow breaths, she said, “I knew it… The ‘ghost’ my maids saw was…”

“One of my men, yes. If a suspicious person was spotted inside the castle, security would be redirected here, right? Thanks to that, Vinrhys is empty of Galkhein knights.”

Rishe doubled over, and Raul heaved a sigh.

“You really don’t look good. Well, this should keep Arnold Hein busy for now.”

“Hold it. Do you really think I’ll just let you leave?”

“Try and stop me, then!”

Oliver was blocking the door, but that wasn’t where Raul was headed. He went straight for the window, opened it, and put a foot up on the sill.

“It was fun, Miss. If we ever end up meeting again, I hope you’ll show me that cute smile of yours.”

“Raul!”

“See you. Bye-bye!” With that, Raul jumped down from the third-story window.

“Damn it!” Oliver clicked his tongue in frustration and knelt beside Rishe. “Lady Rishe! Lady Rishe, are you all right?!”

“Yes, I’m fine!” Rishe chirped, straightening up in an instant. “Thank you for playing along with my little performance. As we discussed beforehand, we’ll let him escape for now and follow him later.”

“But, Lady Rishe…” Oliver was dismayed, staring at Rishe in disbelief. “Are you sure you’re all right? It sounded like he dosed you with something.”

“Yes. I anticipated that, so I took an antidote beforehand.” Rishe beamed and stood, performing a curtsy with a flourish of her skirt. She hoped the gesture proved that she was perfectly fine.

I know the very tactics Raul likes to use in these situations.

It wasn’t just his methods—she knew the exact drug and dosage he would use as well. That was why she was able to predict the precise trap he’d lay for her and how she knew when to act like the drug was taking effect to make it believable.

I learned better than anyone else how Raul “hunts” during the five years I spent with him in my fifth life.

Rishe told the dumbfounded Oliver, “Since I managed to fool him, Raul thinks he’s immobilized me for the time being…and he seems to think the same of Prince Arnold.” She’d drunk the spiked tea on purpose to take advantage of Raul’s resulting confidence.

Taking out a map of Vinrhys from a small purse, Rishe ­studied the layout of the port city. “I left the placement of the knights to you. Do you mind telling me where you stationed them?”

“Er, of course… I’ve spread out the forces concentrated inside the castle for the last few days. If they see anything suspicious, they should raise smoke signals to let us know. I’ll mark their locations.”

“Impressive. With so many in these spots, we should have the whole town covered.”

Their forces weren’t as concentrated inside the castle as Raul expected. This was all thanks to Oliver mobilizing the knights in Arnold’s place.

“Thank you for trusting me, Oliver.” Rishe inclined her head deeply, surprising the attendant all over again.

“You confirmed that Lady Harriet was already missing before speaking to this ‘Raul’ fellow, right?”

It was just as Oliver said. The truth was that Rishe had gone to investigate Harriet’s room as soon as she found out about the counterfeit money. She knew someone would spot her coming from the hallway, so she’d descended the outer wall of the castle from the fourth floor with a rope and made sure that Harriet wasn’t in her third-floor room. Then her goal changed from ­protecting Harriet to rescuing her—but to find out where she was, she had to let Raul escape.

Oliver, who had assisted her with all this, asked her, “Did you ask him to increase her guard detail to make him think you hadn’t caught on to her abduction yet? To lull him into a false sense of security?”

“It was just to make things a little easier. It’s more convenient for us if his men are guarding an empty room rather than following us,” Rishe said with a grin.

“You truly are…”

“Yes? I’m what?” Rishe blinked, waiting, and Oliver smiled softly.

“Nothing. I’m just looking forward to your marriage to my lord more and more.”

“Huh?!” Rishe had no idea how that thought connected to anything they’d said up until this point. The comment flustered her, but she quickly feigned composure. Much as she wanted to ask Oliver what he meant, following Raul was her first priority. She knew he was headed for wherever Harriet was.

“I don’t suppose you could keep this from Prince Arnold for a while longer?”

Oliver hesitated. “I really should report this to him right away…”

“I know, but it will be easier to rebuff any unreasonable demands from Fabrannia if Prince Arnold had no idea of Lady Harriet’s abduction at the time.”

Even if Fabrannia did demand some sort of recompense for Harriet’s abduction, Galkhein probably wouldn’t provide it. Nevertheless, Rishe figured it was best to stack the deck in their favor. Fabrannia’s plan to circulate counterfeit money and their motivation for killing Harriet were clear indications of hostility toward Galkhein.

“If I don’t tell His Highness anything, then Galkhein can simply cut ties with me if they’re put in a disadvantageous position, thereby absolving themselves of any responsibility in the matter,” she told Oliver, knowing he would understand.

He held her gaze for a moment, then bowed. “Let me summon some transportation before the knights determine his location.”

“Thank you!”

And with that, Oliver left the room. He would execute her plan swiftly. Feeling grateful, Rishe also apologized to Arnold in her heart.

I’m sorry for doing all this without telling you, and for borrowing your precious attendant.

Rishe sighed and surveyed the room. Raul had been staying here, and she knew how his mind worked. Her eyes landed on the fireplace, which wouldn’t have been in use in the summertime, and she peered up into the chimney from below.

Aha! I knew it.

Unsurprisingly, she found a hidden bow with its string removed. She wiped off the dusting of soot, bent the bow, and restrung it. There was a full quiver hidden in the same place.

Having obtained a weapon, Rishe returned to her fourth-floor room and opened the trunk. She pulled out a cloak and tugged it over her dress. Then she picked up the black sword leaning against her bed—the same one she’d borrowed from Arnold two days ­before. He’d used it up until a few years ago and kept it on hand as a spare after switching to his current sword, she’d heard. Since it was made to be wielded by someone with a man’s build, it was heavy for Rishe. Regardless, she equipped the belt she’d also worn two days ago and affixed both the sword and quiver to it. The bow was the only thing she couldn’t hide under her cloak, so she carried it in her hand as she headed out into the hallway.

Oliver finished his preparations at the exact same time. She heard his voice from down the hall. “We have smoke signals. I readied a fast horse for you, so please come this way.”

All the knights on security duty at the castle gawked at Rishe as she passed with the bow in hand. Unbothered by their stares, she joined Oliver, and the two of them headed for a back ­entrance rather than the front.

“Look to the eastern sky. There’s blue smoke rising from a district on the outskirts of the town.”

“Thank you. I didn’t think we’d find them so quickly.” Rishe glanced up at the blue sky as she ran for the stables. Oliver’s ­instructions had been precise, and the knights must have done well covering ground in the city to find their target in such a short time.

Still, apprehension pricked at Rishe like needles. This is too easy. Raul’s true objective must be—

“Lady Rishe, you’ll find your horse in the rightmost stable!”

“What?! But isn’t that where the royal—” Rishe looked to the rightmost stable and froze. Standing there were a dazzling palomino horse and a man holding its reins.

“P-Prince Arnold!”

Sheer exasperation crossed Arnold’s beautiful face. After a pause, he asked, “What in the world are you doing?”

“What are you doing here, Your Highness?”

She’d asked Oliver to keep quiet about this. She whirled in his direction, but the silver-haired attendant just smiled at her. Rishe understood everything then. Oliver had never actually replied in the affirmative after she’d asked him to refrain from telling Arnold. Oliver hadn’t been doing what she asked at all. He’d been following his lord’s orders from the beginning.

It was foolish of me to apologize for borrowing his attendant!

“The lecture can wait. Get on. We’re following him, right?”

“If I accept your help, this will become an international incident.”

“How am I to turn a blind eye to this now that my wife’s ­involved?” Arnold retorted, as if it were the natural outcome.

“Ugh…”

The prince knew just what was going on, so there was no point in wasting time arguing. Rishe gave up and used a step stool to boost herself onto the horse’s ornate saddle. Arnold took his place behind her and grasped the reins. Rishe ended up quite close to him, practically locked in his embrace. She tried not to think about that as she gripped the saddle.

Tightening his hold on the reins, Arnold shot a look at his attendant. “Oliver.”

“Yes. Be careful… You too, Lady Rishe.”

Rishe turned to thank Oliver, but before she could speak, Arnold spurred the horse onward. From the interaction, it was clear to Rishe that the horse was clever and well trained. It changed gait smoothly, careful not to burden its riders with its movements.

As they sped away from the castle, descending a green hill toward the town, Rishe muttered, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect Lady Harriet…”

If only Rishe had realized the burden Harriet was carrying the night before. They could have avoided the danger she was in now, as well as the possibility of Galkhein being held accountable for her fate.

I’m sure Lady Harriet is terrified.

Even if they managed to rescue her before she was harmed at all, Rishe had failed as soon as she was abducted in the first place.

As Rishe hung her head, Arnold spoke up. “You’re not a Siguelian knight tasked with protecting the princess.” The words sounded cold, but she knew he didn’t mean them that way. Arnold’s tone was admonishing as he asked her, “What’s your position in this country?”

“Fiancée of the prince of Galkhein.”

“That’s right. And in about a month, it’ll be ‘the crown princess of Galkhein.’” His large hands held the reins in such a way so as not to bother the horse. “Is taking up a sword and protecting the princess from danger all you can do?”

Rishe was stunned. If she were Harriet’s knight, then protecting her would be all she could do. But she wasn’t. Just like Arnold said, she could be of help to Harriet with resources other than a sword. When she realized what he was trying to say, she twisted around to meet Arnold’s blue eyes. “No…”

“As long as you understand that.”

With a nod, Rishe pulled her hood over her head. They had to pass through the busy port town before reaching the location of the smoke signals. Her coral hair would stand out there, so she kept it hidden under her cloak and tied a ribbon under her chin to keep the wind from blowing it off.

She had other concerns over their journey as well. “Prince Arnold, there’s a chance they’ve set traps along the way to prevent us from following them.”

“We’ll avoid the shortest route, then. Do you know what weapons they’ll be wielding?”

“They’ll be archers, I imagine. And they may have paralyzing poisons on their arrows,” Rishe said, adding that she’d found a bow and arrows in Raul’s room.

“Prince Curtis’s impostor gifted me several pieces of information. There’s his alias of Raul, for one, plus the fact that he has several subordinates here.”

There was very little Rishe had learned from Raul in this life, but she figured if she told Arnold this, he’d be less suspicious about how she knew what she did. That was why she’d said Raul’s name in front of him the day before.

“I heard you sent the knights out into the town without their jackets on. Was that so that archers wouldn’t target them?”

“Yes. I’m sure they’ve been watching us since we left the castle, however.”

She was sure that Raul had his hunters watching them through monoculars. As soon as they entered the hunters’ range, arrows would start flying at them.

Arnold wasn’t worried, though. “If they shoot at us, I can just cut the arrows down.”

He speaks about such an incredible feat like it’s nothing!

Rishe was intimately familiar with this skill of Arnold’s, though. In the war in the future and in the incident at the Grand Basilica, Arnold had struck down every arrow that had flown at him.

Soon enough, the port town of Vinrhys was right before their eyes. The moment Arnold slowed the horse to duck into an alley­way, he and Rishe reacted simultaneously.

“Your Highness!”

“I know.”

Arnold transferred the reins to one hand and drew his sword with the other. With a dry snap, an arrow split in two in midair. A moment later, another flew at them, and Arnold smacked it away. His sword swished exactly where it needed to without a single wasted motion.

I can’t believe him!

Rishe noticed something else in those few seconds. Arnold was swinging his sword to protect her. Not just from the arrows but in a way that would prevent her from falling off the horse.

Prince Arnold’s defense is perfect, but the hunters are no slouches themselves. At this rate, they’ll get the both of us while I’m weighing him down.

She steadied her nerves with a breath and spoke to Arnold over her shoulder as she retrieved her bow. “Your Highness, could you hold me close with your rein arm?”

“Huh?”

Arnold frowned, but ignoring his confusion, Rishe bent down and whispered into the ear of the beautiful palomino horse, “I’m sorry. I’m going to be riding you a little strangely, but I’ll try not to get in your way. So just be a little patient, all right?”

“Hey, Rishe, what are you…?”

Rishe put one hand on the saddle and then lifted a knee up onto it. This was an unnatural position, of course, so she started leaning to one side immediately. Arnold wrapped an arm around her and pulled Rishe close to him.

“What are you doing?!”

“Closer, Your Highness.” Rishe got up on her knees on the saddle, turned to face Arnold, and nocked an arrow to her bow. “Hold me tight. Press my body to yours.”

Arnold sighed deeply when he caught on to what Rishe was trying to do and clutched her body against his. Pressed up snug against Arnold, Rishe’s torso was stabilized atop the horse. Rishe took aim at the rooftop that the arrows had come from.

“Please maintain a steady pace for me.”

“I know.”

As long as she knew which way the arrows were coming from, it was easy enough to tell where a hunter was hidden. She sensed their enmity rising as she closed one eye, held her breath, and pulled the bowstring taut. A moment later, Rishe aimed for the rooftop and let her arrow fly.

“Gah!” There was a short scream, and then all was silent. Arnold must have noticed the hunter’s bloodlust disappearing as well.

“You hit.”

“Arrows aren’t that lethal, so I doubt they’re dead.”

The hunters all wore armor over their vital points, and these arrowheads weren’t large enough to pierce leather. Her target must have gone quiet due to the paralyzing agent on the arrowhead.

“I’ll take care of the archers. Your Highness, you—” She cut herself off, sensing a distant hostile presence over her shoulder. Arnold swung his sword at the same moment. The blade flashed before Rishe’s eyes, batting away an arrow whizzing toward them. The arrow, presumably aimed at Rishe, clattered to the cobblestones.

“You don’t need to worry about the arrows. Concentrate on your task.”

“Thank you!”

Even on horseback, with one arm holding Rishe to him, there were no flaws in Arnold’s swordsmanship. He must have had plenty of experience with mounted combat. Not only was his handling of the reins expert, but his horse also seemed to under­stand his every need. Rishe nocked another arrow, entrusting herself to the stability of Arnold’s arm.

They charged through the port town of Vinrhys, Arnold with his sword in hand and Rishe with her bow.

“Another archer down on the west side. Next, I’ll take out the two to the east!”

“Got it. We’ll be entering an alleyway in another three minutes and ten seconds. I’ll lower our speed two minutes from now.”

“Be careful of the sea after exiting the alley. They’ll surely ­attack when the water’s reflection is sure to blind!”

Throwing reports and instructions to one another, they each focused on their individual tasks. Arnold knocked away arrows, and Rishe shot down enemies as they approached the smoke signals.

“Your Highness, can you get around to the right of that building?”

“Not a problem,” he replied. “Above.”

“Leave it to me. Try to maintain this speed!”

Arnold did as Rishe asked just as she wielded her bow as Arnold expected.

This is amazing! It’s like we can read each other’s minds! Rishe thought as she regarded him during a lull in the fighting. Arnold felt her gaze and met it.

Arm still circling her torso, he grinned roguishly at her and asked in a challenging tone, “What do you want to do next?”

Rishe squeaked as a rush raced up her spine. She felt like she could do anything if Arnold fought at her side. Shaking off the sensation—which was dangerous to have on the battlefield—Rishe moderated her tone and told him, “We’re almost to the church. The signals came from there. However, the shortest route is still dangerous. If you could find a route with good visibility, even if it’s a bit of a detour, that would be ideal.”

“Got it. I’m sure they’re guarding the door either way, though.”

She had to agree there. It would take too long to breach the church from the front. “That’s why I plan to take a different route inside once we’ve arrived.”

“A different route?” Arnold repeated doubtfully, but Rishe just concentrated on her archery.

We must save Lady Harriet. And if I’m right about what Raul’s planning…