Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

EVENTUALLY, the twenty-ninth day of the seventh month arrived. It was the day of the operation they would carry out with the help of Sylvia’s troupe, and the theater was full of knights on security detail. It was also the day the postponed show would resume, and the audience was packed.

Sylvia sat in a dressing room behind the stage, radiating nerves.

Rishe was right there beside her, holding her hand to give her courage. “You don’t need to worry, Sylvia.”

“Thanks, Rishe… How many years has it been since I was nervous about just standing on stage? Hee hee hee. Times like these, you have to get into costume right away!” Though Sylvia’s tone was light, her face was pale.

She’s acting calm, but I’m sure she’s terrified.

To bolster their plan, Rishe took advantage of the fact that the troupe didn’t publicize the contents of each show. Once the curtains rose on today’s show, a great number of performers would dance around Sylvia to obscure her from view. In the dim light of the theater, the music would stop, and the dancers would leave. Then a light would shine on the songstress, now alone onstage. After that, she would perform a solo until the end of the show. It was a short program, but they wouldn’t have to wait long to act.

The assailants would strike the moment the initial performers left the stage and the light illuminated the lone songstress. After all, the intelligence agents were just like the audience: They didn’t know the contents of the show either. Since they would have no idea when they’d get another chance, they’d make their move as soon as Sylvia was alone.

As the bait, Sylvia was understandably nervous.

“Don’t worry, Sylvia. Sir Gutheil will be there to protect you,” Rishe reassured her.

Sylvia’s smile was tinged with sorrow. “Thank you, Rishe.”

“What’s wrong?”

“If this plan goes well and I’m really able to live freely after this, I’m going to leave Sir Gutheil.”

Rishe gasped. “But why? Sir Gutheil said he would protect you with full knowledge of your background, didn’t he?”

“All the more reason why.” Sylvia smiled wanly and squeezed Rishe’s hand. Her fingers were ice-cold. “I was terrified when I heard his father was executed for espionage.”

Gutheil had said the same thing. He thought she’d looked pained when he told her about his father. Since he hadn’t yet known her circumstances, he’d assumed it was because she was a war orphan, but there was a different reason.

“Sir Gutheil has suffered all this time because of his father’s crimes… Having a woman like me by his side will only give him deeper scars.”

“But—”

“I wanted Sir Gutheil to come that night precisely because I suspected my crimes would come to light…because I didn’t have the courage to tell him myself.” Sylvia let go of Rishe’s hand and gave her a hug instead. “Thank you for revealing my secret when I couldn’t myself, Rishe.”

“Oh, Sylvia…”

“I’ll say goodbye to him after today.” Melancholy plain on her face, Sylvia shook her head. “I caused you and Sir Gutheil endless trouble, but…just watch. I’ll do my best to be useful for something by the end.”

Rishe had no reply.

“Now, I’ve got to get changed!”

When Sylvia put on a cheerful mask again, Rishe grabbed Sylvia’s hand. “I’m afraid that won’t do.”

“Huh?”

She stared straight into Sylvia’s eyes and told her, “After all, you’re…”

 

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That night at seven, Galkhein’s premier theater had a full house. A rumor had spread through the audience that security was tighter than usual because Hermity’s crown prince was attending the show as part of a diplomatic visit. Still, everyone was relieved they’d been able to get in without a significant delay since the inspection at the door was cursory.

“I wonder what the show will be like tonight.”

“I can’t wait to hear Sylvia sing! I was surprised when she collapsed the other day. I’m so glad she’s feeling better now.”

“That’s the bell for the start of the show! The curtain’s rising…”

The lights in the theater dimmed, and the audience chatter faded with them. In the silence, the deep-red curtains slowly lifted.

On the stage stood a great number of female performers wearing pink dresses. Their outlines were faint in the low light. When the musicians began to play, the women all started dancing at once. Their many-layered chiffon dresses fluttered about as they moved. The audience was captivated by the otherworldly music and the way the dancers glided weightlessly around the stage.

The beauty of the dance was further enhanced by a rain of petals that fell from above. The white petals resembled snow as well. Under the faint lighting, they almost seemed to glow.

When the petals fell to the stage, the dancing women kicked them back into the air, and they swirled around as yet another part of the dance. The audience watched the mesmerizing performance with bated breath, entranced by the delicate beauty brought out by the petals.

Eventually, the music faded and the dancers slowed to a stop. They exited the stage, the petals drifting upward one last time with their departure.

The only figure on the stage now was the songstress, who had been hidden among the dancers. She knelt in the center of the stage, a transparent veil covering her head. She wore a crimson dress and black gloves, her hands clasped as if in prayer.

The audience gulped, waiting to hear the beautiful song that was sure to start any moment now. A large flame was ignited in the device lighting the stage. And the moment the light hit the songstress, she reached for the sword at her hip. The crowd’s eyes went wide at the unexpected combination of an opera singer and a sword.

The next moment, there was a great whoosh from one corner of the audience. An arrow flew toward the stage. The audience didn’t even have time to register that someone had shot at her. The songstress swiftly drew her sword and sliced it diagonally downward in one fluid movement.

“Wha…?”

There was a short clang. The songstress lowered her head calmly after batting the arrow out of the air. Her slash had caused the flower petals to dance up into the air once more.

“What…was that?!” a member of the audience cried, unable to contain his confusion. The other spectators nearby glared at him, and he hastily shut his mouth.

As the countless petals continued to rain around her, the diva gave a rapid swing of her sword. At that moment, the veil covering her head flew up, and those in the front row caught a glimpse of what was beneath it.

“Coral hair?!”

It was not Sylvia on the stage, but none of the audience members realized that. They merely gaped as the “songstress” swatted her veil aside with one hand.

“What is this?”

The girl hiding her coral-colored hair pointed her sword straight at the crowd. Her movements were graceful yet bold, and another audience member murmured, “That’s no songstress… That’s a goddess of war!”

Of course, the “songstress” had no idea what the audience member had said. The coral-haired girl in her place—Rishe—was focused intently on her declaration of war to the enemy and nothing else.

 

---

 

I won’t let Sylvia get hurt. Playing her part as the fake songstress, Rishe honed her focus to a sharp point.

Everything’s gone according to plan so far. The moment the enemy thought Sylvia was alone onstage, they aimed straight for me.

Her costume was heavy, but some of the design features made it easier to move in. The frilly skirt had several slits in it so that it didn’t catch on her legs. Her face was covered by the veil, but it didn’t hinder her vision at all. But it was just as difficult as she thought it would be to scan the dark audience from the bright stage. Instead, she focused her hearing and concentrated on the bloodlust of her attackers. Even with the packed audience, she picked up on the distinct fwish of an arrow cutting through the air and someone’s intent to kill.

To the right!

Rishe swung her sword as she made the judgment. She missed the arrowhead but struck the shaft. The arrow slid across the stage, scattering artificial petals as it went.

It’s just like Prince Arnold taught me. “Use the whole blade as a surface to hit the shaft, knocking the arrow out of the air.”

Rishe was reaping the fruits of the special training Arnold had been giving her over the last several days. She took a deep breath and kept her entire body taut, ready to move at any moment. If she let her guard down for even a second, a spy’s arrow was sure to find her heart. Rishe, who had been a spy herself—though she’d merely called herself a hunter at the time—could tell exactly how skilled her adversaries were.

I’m glad I was able to switch with Sylvia. If I’d really let her be the bait, she would definitely have been hurt.

No matter how tight their security was, it would be difficult to protect her completely. Rishe was acutely aware of that fact, which was why she’d made her proposal to Arnold and Raul.

 

“I will play the part of the bait, not Sylvia.”

When she informed them thus in a room in the detached palace, Arnold scowled ferociously.

“I intend to inform Sylvia that she will play the part herself. If I don’t, I doubt she’ll cooperate with us. We need help from her and the rest of the troupe for our plan to succeed.”

“Rishe.” Arnold had a look on his face that could sour fresh milk. After staring at her for a few moments, however, he sighed and said, “Understood. Do as you like.”

“Thank you, Prince Arnold!”

“Wait, wait, wait! Hold on a second, you two!” blurted Raul, no longer in his disguise. “Why are you talking as if what you’re saying makes perfect sense? Why would you take Sylvia’s place? There’s no need for you to put yourself in that kind of danger!”

“Why? Well, because there’s no better way.”

“Don’t gimme that!” Raul’s shoulders slumped in resignation. He then whirled on Arnold. “And you, Your Highness! Are you just going to let her walk all over you? What would you do if something happened to your darling little wife while doing something so dangerous?”

“I keep telling you, I’m not Prince Arnold’s wife yet!”

Raul shot her a look that told her she’d missed the point. It was rare for him to display his emotions so plainly.

Arnold frowned, lowering his blue eyes. “I’m aware that it’s dangerous.” His voice was heavy with exasperation. “I’m also aware that she will not budge on this matter. When she decides to protect someone, she’ll see it through no matter what.” The prince fixed his gaze on Rishe and let his face go slack. “I’ve figured that out at this point.”

Rishe’s heart throbbed over the trust he had in her. Just as Raul said, he was letting her get away with whatever she wanted. Arnold would never have accepted this plan if anyone else had suggested it. Rishe was so happy to have understood that.

Now, Rishe stood on the stage as the songstress, swinging her sword with precision.

I swear I’ll protect her.

She smacked aside another arrow, and the audience’s muttering grew louder.

“What kind of show is this?! Arrows are flying at Sylvia, and she’s defending herself with a sword! Then the petals whirl up…”

“Yes, it’s beautiful!”

The audience exchanged hushed impressions of the show, their voices barely audible over the orchestral accompaniment. Rishe didn’t hear them, hyperfocused on where the next attack would come from.

Every arrow flying at me allows the Imperial Guard to find one of the archers. I must get them to shoot as many arrows as I can!

Working off her lessons from Arnold, Rishe smacked down the arrows flying at her with audible swings of her blade. With each strike, there was a cheer from the audience. She grasped her dress and swung it about, whipping up flower petals around her.

They would have known there would be an inspection at the door, so their weaponry must be extremely limited. Spies like this most often use long-range weapons. That means they’ll keep shooting at me until they run out of arrows!

Rishe’s primary role was to smoke out the archers hiding in the audience. She would draw the arrows to her as Sylvia’s stand-in and strike them all down. An archer’s greatest weakness was that they were limited in the number of times they could attack.

And when they run out of arrows, the next thing they’ll do is…

Just as expected, an assailant climbed up onto the stage. The man, clad in a black cloak, drew a dagger he’d been concealing. The audience gasped in shock and delight, thinking it all a part of the performance.

The man aimed a slash at Rishe, which she dropped low to dodge. At that moment, when she was most vulnerable, an arrow whizzed toward her.

“Ngh!”

The arrow had been aimed at her thigh, but she spun her blade to deflect the arrowhead. She held her breath for a moment but fought the instinct—she couldn’t afford interruptions to the rhythm of her breath.

Still, that momentary lapse was the opportunity the assailant atop the stage needed. He emerged, dagger out, while Rishe was busy knocking away the arrow.

“Tch!”

That instant, a figure leaped in between Rishe and her attacker from the wing of the stage. His leg swung in a roundhouse kick to the side of the assailant’s head.

“Gah!” With a short scream, the attacker flew straight off the stage.

A black cloak flashed before Rishe’s eyes. The man wearing it looked disgusted, as if it repulsed him to have touched the enemy even with the heel of his shoe.

“Prince Arnold!” Rishe called his name in surprise, as his interference was a divergence from their plan.

Arnold spun to Rishe and took a short breath before asking her, “Are you hurt?”

“No, but…weren’t you supposed to join me a bit later?”

Arnold’s feat had been so impressive that the audience cheered and applauded. But his eyes, blue as the sea, spared them not a single glance.

“You’ve done enough.”

Rishe realized the whoosh of the arrows had stopped. She spotted the Imperial Guard apprehending several audience members. But the malice here and there in the theater hadn’t disappeared completely.

They’re coming.

Now that they were out of arrows, the attackers were headed for the stage. Rishe gripped her sword, her guard up. Arnold, meanwhile, kept his eyes downcast. He reached for the sword at his waist and gripped its hilt. Slowly, he slid the blade out from the sheath.

Rishe gasped at the beauty of the motion. His posture was perfect, his center of gravity immutable. He would be able to block an attack from any position without the slightest difficulty. At the same time, he wasn’t expending any excess energy. If anything, he seemed at ease, his intense calm almost seductive.

The black sword gleamed as it glided from its sheath, the movement smooth and clean. Light danced on Arnold’s lashes and cast long shadows on his cheeks. This simple act of drawing a sword had the audience captivated. Those who believed that this was yet another part of the show were enthralled into silence.

As the sword came free, it sang a high and clear note like a bell. Arnold blinked slowly as the petals at his feet shot into the air.

He’s beautiful…

Though Rishe was captivated by the sight as well, it didn’t hold her attention for long. After all, Rishe had to concentrate on the ten cloaked figures who had just stormed the stage. She raised her sword, focusing on the enemies’ movements.

Someone’s leading them! They’re not letting their guard down. They’re well aware of Prince Arnold’s strength!

The fact that they understood Arnold’s strength was an indication of their own abilities.

Arnold took a step forward. All Rishe could see now was his back. When the cloaked men climbed up onto the stage, Rishe made to stand beside Arnold. At that exact moment, Arnold drew a straight line in the air with one sweeping motion of his sword hand. The first five assailants crumpled to the floor in an instant.

Wha—?!

It wasn’t just the audience members who struggled to discern what had just happened. Rishe had been watching from his side, but the speed had been too much to register. The action had practically been soundless. The tornado of petals on the stage was the only evidence that Arnold had swung his sword.

I can’t believe his technique!

Rishe was speechless watching him. Now that she thought about it, this was her first time as Arnold’s ally seeing him cross blades with an enemy.

The remaining attackers changed their formation when they saw how easily their cohorts were defeated. Arnold didn’t raise an eyebrow at the swiftness of their tactical change. He repelled the enemies’ first hit.

Their movements were different from the first group. Their strategy was for one to attack and another to hit him somewhere else while he was focused on the first strike. Meaningless, of course. Arnold managed to protect Rishe, who stood behind his back, fending off each and every blow without issue. He parried a strike with one hand, sending the enemy flying behind him. A moment later, a large attacker rushed at him.

Unconcerned, Arnold took the blow, his center of gravity lowered. There was a dull clang as the enemy’s blade struck his—but just when Rishe thought he’d parried the strike, Arnold stepped forward into the enemy’s flank. He twisted his shoulder and then kicked the attacker in the gut.

“Guh!” With a grunt, the enemy sank to the stage almost anticlimactically.

In just a few seconds, all ten adversaries had hit the ground.

He took out ten men in the blink of an eye!

In a mere handful of moves, Arnold had disrupted their entire strategy. He’d dealt with every single adversary and had hardly budged from his starting position.

“What the…?! What did that performer just do?!”

“Shh! The show’s not over yet! Be quiet and watch!”

The audience was thrilled. They had no idea they were watching a real battle. This was not the last of their enemies, however.

New adversaries sprang up from everywhere in the audience and rushed the stage. Arnold’s men hadn’t restricted entrance to the theater at all in a ploy to smoke out each and every operative. There were likely still plenty of enemies in attendance.

Foes attacked from both sides, but Arnold only responded to the one on the right. He hadn’t ignored the enemy on the left because he was incapable of guarding against both—he had done it because Rishe’s sword was already flashing out to parry the enemy’s blow.

Don’t take it head-on, just…!

She used the angle of the blade to deflect the enemy’s blow. She couldn’t beat a man in a contest of strength, so she’d trained long and hard in a previous life to use her enemy’s power against him. Rishe whirled like she was dancing, putting spin on the enemy’s sword. Due to the structure of the human hand, her enemy could no longer grip his sword properly, so it was flung far from his grasp.

“Wha—?!”

As he balked, Rishe struck a shallow blow to her opponent’s abdomen.

Both Rishe’s and Arnold’s swords were coated in a drug Rishe had mixed up herself. It was the same paralyzing agent that had been on the blades of the bandits who attacked them on their way back from Hermity.

Rishe sucked in a breath after confirming that the man was down. At the same time, Arnold shot her a glance.

Prince Arnold’s skilled enough not to require my aid. I’m sure he wishes to tell me to fall back. But I…

She wanted to fight at Arnold’s side.

“Rishe.” Arnold called her name as if he could sense her thoughts, quietly enough that only she could hear him. Still facing their enemies, he told her, “You’re free to do as you please.”

Rishe gasped, and it took a moment to register. “Yes!” she cried, tightening her grip on her sword.

She was on Arnold’s left. She hadn’t chosen the spot without thinking; this was the side where Arnold had the scar on his neck, his one and only weakness.

Arnold must have guessed why Rishe did what she did. Surprise registered on his face before he granted her a small smile. She took it to mean he entrusted that side to her.

Prince Arnold isn’t just indulging me and trying to protect me. Strength filled Rishe at the idea that she could stand at his side. He believes in me when he needs to and entrusts his weak side to me.

She savored the idea, shivering with delight.

Although the Imperial Guard were apprehending the archers in the audience, the majority of the assailants were still rushing the stage to silence “Sylvia.” Rishe stepped forward boldly, drawing them to her. She had to convince the enemy this was their only chance to take her down. If even one person who knew of Sylvia’s work as a spy managed to get away from this theater, Sylvia would never know peace.

Sir Gutheil should be keeping the real Sylvia safe. And there are enough Imperial Guard in the theater due to Prince Dietrich’s supposed attendance that it’s possible a single enemy won’t escape…

Arnold had personally trained each and every one of his Imperial Guards. They were normally a kind and quiet bunch, but they became different people in battle. Even more reassuring to Rishe was having Arnold himself at her side.

She evaded her enemies’ blades, her dress swirling around her. She ducked low, her veil flapping up, and Arnold’s sword swung over her head. The struck foe fell, and Arnold pulled his sword back once more.

Low to the ground now, Rishe spun to sweep the legs out from under an assailant trying to take Arnold’s flank. All she had to do was nick her adversaries with her blade and the poison would take effect. Swiftly completing the series of movements, Rishe was about to stand when Arnold reached out to her, pulling her to her feet.

She sprang up, adjusting her dress, and they let go of each other’s hands. Enemies came at them from both sides, and they each cut one down. Rishe switched positions with Arnold before their adversaries even had time to scream. They whirled around, back-to-back.

It’s like I’m dancing with him.

The orchestra was still playing. Rishe thought back to the night she’d first danced with Arnold. Their backs had pressed up against one another then as well.

Entrusting her back to him, Rishe murmured, “There are enemies remaining in the seats. Two of them. Likely archers.”

“They’re aiming for us. Use the men onstage as a shield.”

They matched each other’s timing, cutting down the next attack in tandem. As Rishe stepped forward, dress swishing, she held her sword up high.

Prince Arnold isn’t just perfect as a swordsman. He helped her do whatever she wanted as if it took no effort. Rishe was able to fight freely because he cut down every adversary who might block her line of sight. He’s the type of commander who raises the morale of his soldiers and draws out their full potential. How reassuring must it have been for the knights fighting alongside Prince Arnold on the battlefield?

Rishe felt that power herself right now. Arnold had overwhelming strength, but he always respected her as well. He could sense what she planned to do and worked to facilitate it. It made her feel like she could do anything.

“A girl learning swordplay is one thing.” Her mother’s words from when she was a child ran through her mind. “But for you to be stronger than His Highness the prince is nothing but a disgrace. You will cease these amusements and focus only on your studies from now on.”

With those words, Rishe’s mother had forced her to quit her sword practice, which she enjoyed more than anything.

“You will be the crown princess, so you must support your husband at all times. You will stand behind him and never before him, and come to his aid whenever he wishes.”

Instead of doing what she wished, Rishe lived to become the crown princess of Hermity one day. That was the only option she was given. She spent her birthdays all alone, working only for the sake of being a good crown princess.

But Arnold, who wished to have her as his empress, promised her another way to live.

“I won’t stop you from taking action or making a request that’s in my power to grant.”

Rishe studied the side of his face as they slashed their swords simultaneously.

“If we’re supposed to celebrate, then we’ll celebrate however much you want. What do you wish to do?”

He asked me so tenderly what I wanted for my birthday.

There were tons of things Arnold had given her even without the excuse of her birthday. Her use of the detached palace, her herb garden, the maids she’d wanted to hire. She treasured the ring he’d given her and kept it at her side every possible moment.

She’d thought there was nothing else she could want. But while she hadn’t been able to think of anything up until now, a small request was budding inside her heart.

If I can truly receive yet another thing from Prince Arnold, then…

Petals danced atop the stage as swords clashed. A fallen enemy trembled at her feet as the bloodlust in the theater finally receded.

I can think about that later. There are only a few enemies left. Those archers in the audience are making me nervous.

When Rishe swept her gaze across the crowd, someone abruptly stood in the royal box seats.

Prince Dietrich?

Dietrich’s only role was to serve as a reasonable explanation for the large number of Imperial Guards on-site. Arnold hadn’t given him any other instructions; all he needed to do was sit there. Yet Rishe’s childhood friend was shouting to them now.

“Look out! The audience! There’s two archers left!”

No! If he brings attention to them like that, they’ll attack him instead!

Just as she feared, something glinted in the audience. It was the archers turning to the side, their bows catching the light. They aimed squarely for Dietrich in the royal box. The prince was frightened; he must have noticed.

Why?! Prince Dietrich, you need to hide or you’ll be in danger!

“What is he doing?” Arnold muttered, annoyed. But even while the Imperial Guard tried to pin him down, Dietrich was twisting and shouting at them.

“One of the archers has two arrows!”

Right then, an arrow zoomed through the air. Having heard Dietrich, both Rishe and Arnold stepped forward at the exact same moment. The two arrows shot from the same bow flew in an irregular pattern. In the middle of their arc, they cleanly split, one each going for Arnold and Rishe.

If we know two are coming from the start, we can handle it!

The pair struck down the arrows without hesitating. Rishe glanced back up, but the archers had disappeared. She quickly found them in the corners of the audience, knocked out. One arrow was jabbed into the railing of the royal box. Arrows also stuck out of the archer’s shoulder and leg. Rishe spotted a figure wielding a bow on the fourth level of the seats and breathed out a sigh of relief.

Thank you, Prince Dietrich. And you too, Raul.

This took care of all the bloodlust Rishe sensed in the audience. She did, however, hear Dietrich protesting after the Imperial Guard tackled him.

Three more adversaries clambered up to the stage, and it wasn’t just Rishe and Arnold who knew they were the last. They faced Rishe and Arnold with clear resolve, looking ready to die if it meant fulfilling their duty. Rishe’s hair stood on end at the desperation in their eyes.

These three will try to kill us no matter what it takes. They have firmer wills than anyone else we’ve faced here so far. But…!

Rishe tightened her grip on her sword and searched for openings in their stances. She understood what Arnold had been talking about all too easily.

I can tell right away that they’ll be easier to take down than anyone else we’ve fought today.

Their foes weren’t considering their own survival at all. Rishe was shocked to see how much their attacks changed when they put their lives on the line. They had momentum but no care in any of their movements. Even as they exchanged fearsome blows, her adversary was simply too open.

Rishe stepped forward and nicked one with a tiny cut to the cheek. That was enough. She darted backward, avoiding the enemy’s counterattack. Another enemy Arnold had hit in the same way collapsed on top of that one. Their remaining foe charged forward, aiming at their target, the “songstress.” Arnold’s sword flashed out to meet him.

Their enemies collapsed without so much as a scream. The music crescendoed, and the audience held their breath. Arnold inhaled sharply and shook the few drops of red from his sword. He then sheathed it at his hip once more.

White petals drifted softly around them like snow. And after a brief silence…

“That was amazing!”

Every member of the audience rose to their feet, applauding in a standing ovation.

“What a unique show! There was no dialogue or singing…I can’t believe swordsmanship alone was so incredible to watch!”

“I didn’t even want to blink! The time just flew by!”

“Who was that actor? I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a beautiful man!”

Arnold knit his brows in deep annoyance. Rishe sheathed her sword as well and tugged at Arnold’s sleeve from beside him.

“Seems like the audience thought it was all part of the show, Prince Arnold.”

“After all that? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“If you go into something thinking you’re about to see a show, everything looks like a performance. I thought the audience would be alarmed, so I planned to explain things when it was all over, but…”

Not a single audience member seemed frightened by what had just transpired. They stood tall, clapping enthusiastically.

“It seems we’ll be able to get through this if we just pretend it was a show. So let’s perform until the end, shall we?”

“Perform?”

“Yes. If we perform something that signifies the end of the show, we’ll be able to leave the stage without attracting suspicion.”

Once the lights went out again, the knights would collect all the collapsed enemy combatants. After all, it was normal in a play for the “downed combatants” to disappear into the wings of the stage when the lights were dimmed.

“As for the climax of a play…the hero and heroine exchanging an embrace and vowing eternal love to one another…isn’t really an option.”

Their surest bet was likely holding hands and giving the audience a bow, but before Rishe could make the suggestion, Arnold sighed. “Very well.”

“Huh?”

Arnold grabbed Rishe’s hips with both hands. The next thing she knew, she was in the air. Realizing Arnold had lifted her up, Rishe flushed pink.

“Y-Your Highness!” she squeaked, but if she moved too much, it would upset their balance. Her hands reached out on reflex, and the only place to put them was around Arnold’s shoulders.

The crowd applauded fiercely at the sight. Rishe was glad that they could play the whole thing off as a performance, but this situation was entirely too embarrassing.

Arnold gazed up at her and smiled, evidently enjoying her panic. “I can hardly believe you’re the same person who was calmly taking down foes just a second ago.”

“Ugh!” Rishe was truly glad she had the veil to cover her bright-red face.

He lowered Rishe back down onto the stage and kissed the back of her hand. Another buzz went through the crowd, but Arnold never changed his expression, simply holding out his hand to Rishe.

“Let’s go. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?”

“Urgh…!” She was frustrated, but she couldn’t bring herself to argue.

Rishe took Arnold’s hand to escort her off the stage at last, and the applause welled up again. The white petals on the stage floor were in a frenzy, like a storm of flowers. Even after the lights fell, the applause didn’t die down for some time, which made Rishe feel rather awkward.

I’m glad it all worked out, though. And it’s all thanks to Prince Arnold.

So she thought as she descended the stairs in the dark theater wing. As she went, she watched Arnold, who was guiding her so that she didn’t trip. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard a voice she wasn’t expecting call her name.

“Rishe!”

“Sylvia?! What are you doing here?”

According to their plan, she wasn’t supposed to be in the theater. Right before Sylvia had changed into her costume, Rishe had informed her of a fake change to their plans.

“I’ll do my best to be useful for something by the end. Now, I’ve got to get changed!”

“I’m afraid that won’t do, Sylvia.”

“Huh?”

“After all, you’re going to flee the theater with Sir Gutheil right now.”

Rishe had explained the fake plan to the surprised Sylvia.

“It wouldn’t do for an enemy spy to be among the knights, would it? So instead of the grand plan we’ve involved all the knights in, you’re going to run far away.”

“But then…who will be the bait?”

“There won’t be anyone standing on the stage. After all, we could only have a woman who’s fought in battle before serve as bait.”

Sylvia hadn’t appeared convinced, but she’d eventually agreed. Rishe hadn’t told her she’d be the bait because she knew it would make Sylvia object to the plan. And unless they made the spies believe that Sylvia was here in the theater, their trap wouldn’t work.

She’d gone so far as to lie, so it made no sense that Sylvia was here now.

“Sir Gutheil, what about our plan to transport Sylvia to the palace in secret?!”

“I apologize, Lady Rishe. I…” As Gutheil faltered, Arnold spoke up from behind Rishe.

“I ordered them to stay.”

“You did?!”

Arnold explained indifferently, “It was safer for them to remain here instead of leaving the theater on their own.”

“Th-that’s true, but still!”

Even disguised, it would have been strange for anyone to leave the theater before the show even started. Arnold must have taken that into consideration.

“I understand that, but…well, you could have at least told me, couldn’t you?”

“You’d just be worried about her if you knew the target was still in the theater.”

He was absolutely right, so Rishe couldn’t even argue anymore. Besides, this was her first time knocking arrows out of the air. It was possible that things wouldn’t have gone so well if her concentration had been even a bit lacking. Arnold had kept his own secret from Rishe right up until the last minute to keep her safe.

“I’ve still got a lot to learn. I have to get stronger if I’m going to be worthy of your trust, Your Highness…”

“That has nothing to do with it.” Arnold sighed and lifted the veil covering Rishe’s face, locking eyes with her. “I was worried about you. That’s all.”

Rishe felt her cheeks heating up again, so she shook her head, covering her face once more with the veil.

But Rishe wasn’t the only one upset that she’d been deceived.

“I’m furious, Rishe!”

“Oh, Sylvia…”

Sylvia sounded like she’d been crying until just a moment ago. Her beautiful lashes were wet with tears, her eyes red and puffy.

“All of a sudden, the plan changes last minute, and you and Sir Gutheil have different plans! We hid underneath the theater, but something seemed strange, and Sir Gutheil wouldn’t let me out to see what it was!”

“I-I’m sorry, Sylvia… That must have been a real fright.”

“The scariest moment was when I realized you might be serving as the bait yourself!”

Apparently, Gutheil hadn’t told her; Sylvia had just drawn that conclusion herself. Gutheil had no idea what to do, but he was clearly worried about Sylvia, who was clinging to Rishe.

“I’m so sorry, Lady Sylvia, Lady Rishe. If only I’d concealed the truth more convincingly or explained the situation in a way that granted Lady Sylvia more peace of mind…”

“Sir Gutheil was kind enough to comfort me the whole time I was crying, and saying I wanted to go where Rishe was, and beating my fists against his chest, just so you know!”

“I-I assure you it didn’t hurt at all, so it was no trouble, really!”

Arnold broke off from the group and started giving directions to Oliver. At the same time, his knights were bringing in more and more of the enemy combatants. There were a lot of them, but they had all been paralyzed, so the knights were in no rush to bind them more thoroughly.

“I’m really sorry I lied to you, Sylvia. I didn’t want you to be in any danger.”

“Well, how do you think I felt?! I didn’t want you to be in danger either, Rishe!” Sylvia clung tightly to Rishe, sobbing. “I’m sorry… You went through all this for me. I really am sorry…”

Rishe shook her head, returning Sylvia’s hug. “If I was able to help out a friend, that’s more than enough for me.”

Sylvia’s breath caught. When she was able to speak again, she said, “Thank goodness you’re safe, Rishe.” She loosened her grip and added, “I’m sorry for getting angry with you too, Sir Gutheil. I know you did everything just to protect me.”

“The sound judgment was Prince Arnold’s, not mine. Besides, your safety is also all I could ask for.”

Gutheil smiled, and Sylvia flushed so hard that her face turned as red as her hair. When he saw that, he regarded her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Then he strode straight up to the prince.

“Your Highness.”

Arnold broke off from his conversation with Oliver. He signaled his attendant, and Oliver bowed in acknowledgment, leaving the backstage area. Then he loosed a sigh, clearly dreading what was coming.

Gutheil told him, “I will not forget the instruction you gave me during this incident for the rest of my life. You must not give your life to protect something but fight to survive until the end for the sake of the one you’re protecting. As soon as I realized how important that is, I felt keenly how difficult it is as well.”

He knelt in front of Arnold.

“I am aware that I have much yet to learn and that it will take me a long time to truly become worthy. In addition, I feel it is my duty to become a knight only to protect the person I care for most instead of a grand thing like the entire nation.” After bowing his head deeply, he looked up at Arnold. “In order to do that, would it be possible for you to make me your retainer?”

Rishe gulped. In the future she knew, Gutheil was a loyal retainer of Arnold’s. He commanded armies in multiple locations, contributing greatly to Arnold’s invasion of the world. Gutheil’s command had caused multiple nations to fall.

If Sir Gutheil becomes Prince Arnold’s knight, it’ll be one step closer to the future I know.

Just a few days ago, the idea had terrified her. Now, however, she was waiting with bated breath, praying that Arnold would say yes. She desperately wished that Gutheil’s dream would come true and he would be recognized for his talents as one of Arnold’s knights.

Arnold frowned and eyed Gutheil with aggravation. “Stand.”

Gutheil made no show of moving even at Arnold’s cold, cruel tone. “I will bow my head to you as many times as it takes. Until you acknowledge me, I—”

“Just stand up.” Arnold sighed again, a sour expression on his face. “That bow is a sign that you’re offering your neck to the one you’re swearing loyalty to. It’s full of openings, and you won’t be able to recover from it if surprised.”

“Is that so…?”

“If you heard me, then cut it out. I tell all my Imperial Guards the same thing.” Arnold’s clear blue eyes bore into Gutheil. “If you’re going to call yourself my knight, then you won’t be taking that pose anymore.”

The knight leaped to his feet and bowed deeply in front of Arnold. “Thank you! Thank you!”

“How wonderful, Sir Gutheil!” Sylvia exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him.

Gutheil flinched but still caught her.

The diva was elated by the good news, crying for a different reason now. “Congratulations! This is the first step to fulfilling your dream, isn’t it?”

“Lady Sylvia, I…”

“From now on, people will know you for your own fantastic deeds, not your father’s crimes.”

Gutheil’s eyes went wide, as though the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “I’m…thrilled to even imagine it!”

He smiled awkwardly, and Sylvia embraced him once more. “It makes me happier to just think about how happy it makes you.”

Oh, I’m so glad… Rishe let go of the breath she’d been holding. She didn’t think Sylvia would talk about leaving Gutheil anymore. She wasn’t sure, but the way Sylvia was clinging to Gutheil, she found it all too easy to picture them together in the future. It’s all because Sir Gutheil changed and Prince Arnold recognized that change.

Rishe was so delighted, she went over to Arnold and pinched his sleeve.

“What is it?”

She giggled, unable to keep it in, and Arnold cocked a brow.

Just like in the future I know, Sir Gutheil was able to become one of Prince Arnold’s knights. But I’m sure that things are changing little by little, and we’ll be able to avoid that future.

Rishe believed that from the bottom of her heart. She wasn’t telling Arnold, however, which just caused him to sigh in resignation for the umpteenth time. He softly grabbed the hand tugging at his sleeve like he was comforting a fussy child.

“Eep…”

As he entwined her fingers with his own, her heart throbbed at the sickly-sweet gesture.

“I need to oversee the cleanup. Go get changed and wait for me.”

Part of me does want to tell him what I want right away now that I’ve thought of something, but not now. She’d have to tell him later. Just as Arnold had said, their plan wasn’t over yet. There were a lot more spies lying around backstage now, and the theater was still noisy. Oliver had left earlier, and he probably needed assistance with something as well.

“I’ll give you a hand, Prince Arnold.”

Rishe smiled and removed the veil from her head before setting about helping Arnold.

 

---

 

“That stupid superhuman couple, honestly…” Raul muttered to himself from a corner of the bustling theater. “What a ridiculous plan. I mean, do a crown prince and a future crown princess usually get involved to save one lousy spy trying to weasel out of her organization?”

He discreetly put away his bow, pulled down the hood of his cloak, and rested his elbow on the fourth-floor railing, his chin in his hand. One of his men stationed outside of the theater had reported that no operatives had fled the building, but he figured they’d need to keep an eye on things for a little longer.

“Welp, it’ll be easier to gather the information Prince Arnold wants now. Just how much of this has he figured out, pretending to go along with his wife’s selfishness all the while?”

Raul surveyed the now-empty stage. “Eh, I guess he wouldn’t have given me the orders he did if he weren’t capable of that much.”

Patting himself on the back for a job well done, Raul yawned and slipped out of the theater unnoticed.