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Arnold shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I’m guessing that Oliver didn’t tell you the reason for this party? It’s merely for appearance’s sake. I need to look like I’m searching for a bride within our borders as well. There’s no reason for you to attend.” |
It made sense. The crown prince—the greatest catch in the kingdom—marrying a foreigner without even the slightest nod to propriety would invite unwanted discontent from the nobility. |
“However, we’re betrothed,” Arnold said. “This whole evening is merely a formality. And with news that you’re my ‘hostage’ going around, you’ll be an object of curiosity. I don’t want to put you through that.” |
“Well, I already went to the trouble of getting ready.” Rishe plucked at her soft blue dress, draped in fluttering layers around her like a flower bud. She’d braided her hair, decorating it with accessories. Her makeup was light, her shoes polished to a mirror shine. Her only jewelry was a pair of pearl earrings. |
“Rishe…” |
“Your Highness, the court may consider my status as a captive princess shameful in the extreme, but I don’t.” She’d chosen this course, after all. |
Arnold was again watching her with a mixture of wonder and confusion. |
“So don’t worry,” she said, extending her hand. “Feel free to show off your fiancée.” |
Arnold relented, his dashing smile creeping out once again. “Very well. I should take advantage of this opportunity to touch my betrothed.” |
“We’re wearing gloves.” |
Arnold took Rishe’s hand. |
A throng of guests was gathered in the ballroom as a group of musicians performed on a platform. Women in gowns stood clustered, while gentlemen in military attire grouped together. A mere glance was enough to tell their clothes were of the highest quality. They mingled happily, making small talk with glasses in hand. |
Rishe let her hand rest on Arnold’s arm as she paused at the threshold to take it all in. “This is a bigger event than I was expecting.” |
“Is it? I’d say it’s a rather small gathering, actually.” |
“Maybe for a military powerhouse,” Rishe muttered. |
Yet another reminder of Galkhein’s wealth took her off guard. Arnold just looked bored. |
“The size doesn’t matter,” he said. “In the end, they’re only here for gossip. Look, here they come.” |
In the blink of an eye, they were surrounded by guests. |
“Prince Arnold, thank you for gracing us with an invitation,” said one man. “Such a pleasure.” |
“The pleasure is mine, Lord Abel,” Arnold drawled. |
“Your Highness! We were so glad to hear of your safe return,” another guest chirped. “Please, our daughter is simply dying to be regaled with tales of your trip.” |
“I can’t imagine I’d have anything particularly exciting to share with her,” Arnold said curtly. |
After the last few days, Rishe found this look of glazed apathy disturbing. His good looks only compounded it—he was so handsome that every expression was stark. |
He looks more like Emperor Arnold Hein now, but still not the same. |
Arnold appeared to notice her watching him. When he looked at her, his sourness disappeared, replaced by a genuine smile. All around him, women found themselves flushing. Arnold paid no heed to their fervent gazes, instead leaning in to give Rishe a brief moment of consideration. |
Then he leaned in close enough to kiss her. |
“A dull trip,” he said again, pulling away. “But fortuitous. Without it, I would have never met the woman destined to be my wife.” |
A shocked murmur rolled through the crowd. Rishe, who hadn’t recovered from seeing Arnold’s beautiful face at close range, barely noticed the looks of utter loathing the assembled women were throwing her. |
“H-His Highness is smiling? At his hostage bride?” |
“He called her his wife?! He’s never even looked at us!” |
They were whispers, but they carried. |
A portly man stepped forward with his daughter in tow. “Your Highness, do you mean to say that this lovely young woman is your fiancée?” |
Every eye in the ballroom was on Rishe, alight with curiosity, envy, or schemes. None of them could hide their contempt. But Rishe didn’t falter. |
This is nothing compared to being publicly dumped in a banquet hall. And I’ve done that seven times! |
She offered a polite smile and an astoundingly correct curtsy. Left leg at a diagonal behind the right, back straight, head bowed. “How do you do? My name is Rishe Irmgard Weitzner.” |
Even the most hostile guests could find nothing impolite in her greeting, no sign of rough manners from the rustic daughter of a backwater nation. Rishe had years of training in expectation of ascending to the throne. Occasionally, habits from her other lives slipped through, but Arnold appeared to be the only one who noticed. |
Now he was looking at her with satisfaction. “Lady Rishe has only just arrived, and her acquaintances are few and far between. I hope I can count on you all to hold me accountable should I prove an incompetent husband.” |
“B-but of course, Your Highness.” |
“Come, Rishe.” Arnold guided her out of the ring of spectators. The stares continued to follow them as they walked away. |
Rishe dropped her voice to a whisper. “You sure know how to invite the ire of women.” |
“Whatever do you mean?” |
“The way you harped on about me. Everything you said was tailor-made to stoke their jealousy. You’ve gained me enemies, so thanks for that.” |
Arnold snorted. “Everything I said was to protect you from enemies. They need to know you aren’t just some trophy they can eliminate without recourse. We need to show them this to forestall any potential moves against you in the future. |
“Show them what, exactly?” |
“That I’ll protect you no matter what.” |
He said it with such nonchalance that it brought her up short. Protect me? Arnold Hein, protect me? |
Such an ironic position to take. She couldn’t tell him that, of course. Her response came out somewhat strangled. “I doubt they’ll be anything to worry about. In fact, the biggest threat facing me is you.” |
“Oh? And why do you say that?” |
“For many reasons, the most obvious being that I’m no match for you with a blade.” As much as it pained her to admit it. |
Arnold looked pleased. “Perhaps we should duel.” |
“Yes, please! And if it wouldn’t be an intrusion—I would like to train with you.” If she studied him, she could learn his strategies and his attack patterns. She’d never be a match in speed or raw power, but any insight would be invaluable. |
“Sure.” Arnold shrugged. “I don’t mind.” |
“Truly?” Her eyes glittered with anticipation. |
He chuckled. “Your answers never disappoint me.” |
“What’s that supposed to mean? Oh, it looks like they’re playing a new song.” |
A soft melody drifted across the hall. The crowd divided, heading toward the center of the floor or against the wall. The next dance was starting, and everyone was waiting to see what the crown prince and his new fiancée would do. |
“We don’t have to dance if you don’t want to,” Arnold said. |
“Oh? As it happens, I like dancing.” Plus, she couldn’t resist a blatant challenge. She offered him her hand. |
“Very well, then.” Arnold only hesitated for a moment before taking it and steering her gently to an empty spot on the floor. He didn’t seem like the dancing type, but his movements were slick and effortless. Facing one another, they joined hands. Arnold wrapped his other arm around her waist. |
Ooh. His hand felt huge against her back. She realized she was breathing a little faster. They’d never been this close before. |
No, that isn’t quite true. This is the second time. Rishe’s final memories from her last life flashed vividly through her mind. |
This was indeed the second time they had been this close—the first had ended with a sword through her chest. |
Emperor Arnold Hein had single-handedly decimated the knights in the castle. Rishe stood in the midst of the carnage, breath ragged as she gripped the hilt of her sword, slick with her own blood. She was the last line of defense. The chamber behind her housed the royal family. |
If they could reach the hidden passageways, the young prince and his party could find shelter with their allies across the border. Rishe and the other knights were prepared to sacrifice their lives to allow the royal family to survive. Their escape meant victory. |
Bells tolled out, urging flight. All is lost. Run. Rishe managed to graze Arnold’s cheek with her blade before she looked down to find his jet-black sword blooming out of her chest. |
She remembered how it burned, as if the blade was made of fire. It was heat, not pain, but her breathing grew labored, and when Emperor Arnold Hein withdrew his sword, Rishe crumpled. |
He knelt by her side and whispered something. |
The words were seared into her memory. Rishe squeezed Arnold’s hand as they danced. |
I’ll be the bully this time. |
Rishe shifted her weight back, slipping out of the hold on her waist. She broke Arnold’s lead and spun, drifting on the harmony of the dance. She took him by surprise; his eyes went wide. |
I wonder what you’ll do when you’re no longer on top, Your Highness. Her smile was a declaration of war. Watching him attempt to follow her lead would be delightful. She pulled his hand toward her, attempting to move them into a spin. |
But Arnold held fast. He planted his hand on her waist and turned them in a different direction, using her inertia against her. Hey! As a result, Rishe twirled by herself on the spot. |
She didn’t miss a step. She turned elegantly, the hem of her dress whispering across the ballroom floor. She heard appreciative murmurs from the wallflowers lined up watching. |
Despite that, Rishe took it as a defeat. Round one to Arnold. |
So…you can think on your feet. How about this? |
Arnold remained unruffled, evading her next scheme like it was nothing. He grinned down at her, his eyes shining with a dare. |
He thinks I can’t beat him. His ease vexed her, but it was his smugness that made her angry. |
She let out a hard breath, attempting a maneuver to lure him in while turning. He leaned back, not falling for it at all. |
He’s just too good at changing his center of gravity! She kept her astonishment under wraps, but she felt it. Despite how close we’re dancing, I can’t throw off his timing at all. He’s sidestepped all my attempts, and he takes back the lead the second I let down my guard! |
It made her increasingly angry. She twirled and stepped as the dance dictated, all the while feeling out for moments of weakness. Arnold played along with her game, completely unruffled. |
Every single time. I’m doing my utmost to trip him up, but he doesn’t even seem annoyed! At this point she’d just settle for any reaction at all. |
Their unusual dance style had gathered a crowd. Rishe paid them no mind, focused only on her goal. Then something occurred to her, and her breath caught in her throat. |
Wait a minute, he has left an opening. It’s the same one from before. She thought back to their fight to the death, to that moment when she had managed to draw blood. That may indeed have been his only weakness. |
If I strike the same way—huh? Before she could try, Arnold appeared to lose patience, wrapping his arm around her waist. He bent her back into a dip so deep it felt like he’d pulled a carpet from under her feet. She yelped, grabbing at him reflexively, clinging tight. His big hands gripped her securely enough to mitigate the sensation of falling. Relief flooded through her, and she felt a laugh rumble against her ear. |
The music came to an end with one last ringing note. She blinked. The dance is over? |
A hush fell over the ballroom. Then cheers broke out, followed by a round of applause. |
“That was incredible!” |
The watching nobles crowded in. |
“You two moved in such perfect harmony!” |
“I was on the edge of my seat. I felt like I was watching a sword duel!” |
“Is this a dance from Hermity? I’ve never seen such steps before.” |
“Uh, well…” Rishe floundered. She glanced up at Arnold, who appeared to be enjoying her struggle. She’d get no help from him. |
Rishe dealt with the barrage of questions as best she could, letting the crowd sweep them into the dining room, which was set up for a buffet-style meal. She made sure to greet every guest, riveting their faces into her memory. |
She must have been acting peculiar, because Arnold eventually said, “Rishe, I think the wine is getting to you. Shall we get some fresh air?” |
Rishe hadn’t touched a single drop. In fact, she’d been caught up in so many conversations that she hadn’t even had the chance to eat, but she had experience working on an empty stomach. She accepted Arnold’s encouragement as the escape it was. |
Just when I least expect it, he’ll act the gentleman. Maybe he’d remembered her demand for a carefree life of doing nothing. |
Rishe cast a charming look across the crowd. “Thank you for your consideration, Your Highness. Forgive me.” She gave a polite bow before quietly slipping away. |
She didn’t head straight to the balcony but rather slowly walked around the hall. There was only so much she could find out glued to Arnold’s side all night. |
I need information. Galkhein’s political landscape was a mystery to me through all my past lives. I only know the rumors that made it abroad. |
Although she knew of Arnold’s eventual patricide, she had no concept of the circumstances leading up to it. She needed a better picture of the factions and power balance inside the court. The lives these people led. |