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“Fine.” Arnold nodded. “You’re free to do business with whomever you wish.” |
“After we are married, I must be in a position to mingle with guests from abroad.” |
“That sounds within the purview of the crown princess. Anything else?” |
“I will be allowed to live in a separate residence from your mother and father.” |
She meant this seriously, but it made Arnold laugh. “You don’t seem the type to worry about an overbearing mother-in-law.” |
“You would be surprised. Combative relationships with one’s new family are the most difficult part of marriage, or so they say. It could be a ramshackle cottage for all I care—I just require a secondary residence.” |
Actually, Rishe didn’t care at all about in-laws. When Arnold set his war into motion, his first move would be the assassination of his father. A genuine coup by patricide, not at all like Dietrich’s clumsy attempt. Next, he would name himself emperor, take control of the country, and mobilize the military. |
Separating him from his parents will make the first step more difficult—although not impossible, unfortunately. |
“Anything else?” Arnold asked. “I’ll do whatever it takes to marry you.” |
“Ideally, I’d like to know your endgame,” Rishe said with dignity. “But as I doubt there’s any chance of that, I have one final request.” She jabbed a finger into his face, regardless of how rude it was. “I will spend my time idling around the castle. No work, no study. I shall be utterly useless.” |
Let’s see just how much you want me as your princess. |
After a long moment of silence, Arnold cracked a merry laugh. The proposal remained; all her conditions were met. |
(2) chapter number given is likely out of range: 0 |
Chapter: 7 |
Chapter 2 |
Chapter 2 |
“YOU KNOW, it was only after I went into commerce that I truly had a dream for the future,” Rishe had once confided in a friend. “Up until then, I existed only as the crown prince’s fiancée or my father’s daughter. My every act was to become more worthy of that status. But now, for the first time, I actually have a goal of my own.” |
“Oh, yeah?” her friend said. He was the ruler of the desert kingdom, and his smile was awfully charming. “What’s that?” |
Rishe smiled back. “I want to travel to every single country in the world. I want to see everything in every town, peruse their markets, and meet the eyes of every person who lives there!” |
By now, that felt like such a distant dream. |
*** |
Rishe awoke with a start, eyes snapping open as she sensed a disturbance in the air. |
She unsheathed her sword halfway, primed for danger. |
Inside the coach, her old enemy sat across from her, one hand outstretched. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. |
When they’d boarded the coach, Rishe had warned him not to lay a single finger on her throughout the trip to his kingdom. Ordering the prince not to touch his consort was absurd, but Arnold readily agreed. He had, after all, promised to follow her every direction. |
And yet, here he was, already breaking his promise. |
Arnold appeared unperturbed by her glare. “Don’t look at me like that. I was merely trying to recover what you took from me.” |
Confused, Rishe looked at the sword in her hand. It had a black lacquered scabbard with a simple golden decoration. Engraved on the hilt was the Galkhein crest. |
“Oh!” Rishe thrust the sword back at Arnold. “My apologies.” |
Arnold chuckled. “You caught me off guard. You were nodding off, and then you suddenly snatched up my sword. You looked quite content snuggling up with it.” |
Arnold propped the sword beside him. Rishe pressed a hand to her chest to quell her racing heart. The sword that gutted me in my previous life is now my bedmate. What a world. Her recent stint as a knight had left her ill at ease without a blade at hand. She just couldn’t believe it was Arnold’s she’d reached for. |
“I didn’t mean to disturb you, but I doubted sleeping with a weapon would be comfortable. I’m impressed you sensed my intent before I even touched you.” Arnold rested one elbow against the window frame, watching her with shameless fascination. “One only develops instincts like that from combat training. And you were also a member of the court? How in the world did you find the time?” |
Rishe shrugged. She couldn’t just say, I pretended to be a man in a previous life, that’s how. |
“I assume there’s more to you than your devotion to the sword. You seem to like flowers.” |
She followed Arnold’s gaze to where she’d bundled a small bouquet in a handkerchief. This was their fifth day on the road to Galkhein. Every day, without fail, she’d picked flowers whenever they stopped to water the horses. The ones from today were still fresh, but the ones she’d begun drying five days ago were just about ready. |
“I didn’t pick these because they’re pretty.” Rishe brought the blooms to her face, spirits rising at their sweet scent. Spring wildflowers had a soft and gentle smell. Rishe looked out the window at the forest spreading toward Galkhein, thinking of the rare native flowers going into bloom. She wished she could pick those as well, but that would cause too much delay. She gazed on wistfully. |
After watching her in silence for some time, Arnold said, “By the way, I sent one of my men ahead on a fast horse to deliver your order to the company you requested. They’ll be invited to Galkhein to discuss the wedding ceremony.” |
“Thank you,” Rishe said. “I’m glad you kept your word.” |
“The Aria Trading Company,” Arnold mused. “I’ve heard of them. They’re up-and-comers, aren’t they? Have you done business with them before?” |
“No, but I heard from a friend that they hold a very high standard of quality.” |
Rishe was pleasantly surprised at how easily Arnold had acceded to her request. Typically, a royal household had their own personal dealer. Getting them to do business with someone else could be difficult. |
I want to establish a connection with Aria as soon as possible, Rishe thought. It was, of course, the company that had taken her in during her first life. |
The company had been established just two years prior to picking her up by its owner, a man named Tully. They were still in their growth stage, but in just a few years, they would be the grandest trading company in all the world. They’d proven a great boon in her life as an apothecary as well, helping to distribute her newest medicines. She’d struggled to win their trust initially, but she pledged to work much harder this time around. |
This marriage isn’t going to happen—I need an escape plan for when it all falls apart. I must bring to bear all my knowledge and influence as a crown princess. |
Rishe didn’t know Arnold’s plans, but she had no intention of sitting around and waiting for him to use her as he pleased. She’d spend her time as his consort wisely. Everything must serve her ultimate goal: to live longer than five years, and live well. |
Her fierce determination must have shown on her face because Arnold gave her a little bemused smile. “Yes?” |
God! Rishe grimaced at that flawlessly handsome countenance. Such beauty, possessed by such powerful destruction. The fact that he’d been the man to kill her did nothing to lessen her fascination. In fact, it almost made it worse. The study of contrasts. |
“Sorry, I just—” |
She was interrupted by the horses’ loud whinnies. |
“Stop! Hey, stop the coach!” |
Shouts drifted back from conveyance ahead of theirs, which contained the luggage and attendants. The squadron of knights tailing the column of coaches sped off toward the front. |
“Who do you think you—graaargh!” |
That didn’t sound good. Rishe moved to climb out, but Arnold was faster. He drew his sword. |
“Hey!” |
Arnold locked the door from the outside. “Stay hidden.” |
Why is he putting himself in danger? That’s what knights are for! The fact that Rishe had been about to do the same thing didn’t occur to her. It’s probably bandits. He told me to stay hidden in here, but I’m not so sure about that. |
Arnold had left her locked in from the outside, hoping to keep her safe, but Rishe didn’t like her odds. There were five coaches, but this one was certainly the grandest. It locked on the inside as well, but that wouldn’t stop someone with enough determination. If she did as she was told, she’d just be waiting patiently for a bandit to break a window and drag her out. |
Keeping one eye on the coachmen fleeing into the forest, Rishe began a methodical search for something to help her. Right—her hairpin! |
This sure brings me back. She unfastened it, twisting it into the gap in the door. Back when I was a maid, my lady would lock herself in her chambers all the time to avoid her studies. I had to break her out just like this. |
The lock on the coach was simple, and it came open easily. Once she was free, she scanned her surroundings. She didn’t see anyone who looked immediately hostile, but there was noise up ahead. Cautiously, she headed toward it. |
Before long, she found Arnold. |
Wow. |
Roughly ten men—the bandits, she presumed—lay crumpled on the ground. In their midst stood Arnold, in the process of tripping another man into the dirt. He scowled, blade at the man’s throat. “Is that it, then?” |
“Gwugh!” |
Arnold kicked the bandit in the stomach, eyes blazing with cruelty. “That’s all the thrill you offer me after I went to the trouble of drawing my sword? Barely worth it. I’m bored already.” |
He wasn’t angry; on the contrary, he stared his enemies down with chilly disappointment, as if this had all been a letdown. Even Arnold’s own knights seemed terrified of their master when he was in a mood. Arnold smoothly flicked the blood off his sword, wiping the blade on the bandit’s shirt before sheathing it. The rest of the men on the ground seemed to be unconscious. |
Wait, he didn’t kill anyone? Why not? Is it because we haven’t reached Galkhein? |
She supposed even Arnold knew better than to go around killing the citizens of other countries. Or perhaps he had yet to become the ruthless monster she knew him as. |
Arnold seemed to sense her gaze, turning around with a start. Genuine emotion bloomed on his face, worlds away from the blank mask he wore to face down the bandits. “How did you get out of the coach?” |
Rishe shrugged. “If I tell you, you’ll be able to prevent me from doing it again.” |
Arnold snickered. “You continue to amaze me.” |
How can you go from ice-cold to suddenly looking like a normal nineteen-year-old? It’s disconcerting. |
Rishe fought down her disquiet as a man alighted from a coach and shouted, “Your Highness! Not again!” He was Oliver, one of the prince’s attendants. He had silver hair and was roughly as tall as Arnold. |
“What do you think all these knights are for, decoration? Why do you insist on endangering yourself?” |
Rishe had only met Oliver briefly a few days ago, but he didn’t appear to be intimidated by Arnold at all. And, well…he’s not wrong. |
She feared the menace would return to Arnold’s expression, but he just looked annoyed. “I could tell they were prepared to kill. I’d prefer to take the burden on myself than risk multiple injuries so far afield. And we already have casualties.” |
He was right. Several injured knights leaned listlessly among the trees. Arnold issued orders to those still able-bodied. “First squad, see to the wounded. Second squad, arrest these men.” |
“Yes, sir!” |
Oliver appeared unsatisfied. “Your Highness, that is a weak justification. I’m overjoyed you’re well, but you must consider Lady Rishe. Perhaps next time we run into a team of murderous brigands, you could allow your consort to remain in the coach.” |
“I told her to remain in the coach!” |
Rishe quickly averted her gaze, turning her attention to the wounded knights. They didn’t appear badly injured, yet they all seemed exhausted. |
“Excuse me, can I take a look?” Rishe approached the knight acting as a medic. He looked round, startled by her presence. |
“Nonsense, my lady. Don’t trouble yourself, you must have had quite a scare.” |
This was not unreasonable, but the wariness in his eyes made it clear he wanted her nowhere near his comrade. He isn’t just being polite. He truly is on guard. |
Beside them, an injured knight groaned as another helped him up. “What’s wrong with you?” the second knight asked the first. |
“I-I feel…numb.” |
“What? Damn.” The knight grabbed up one of the fallen bandit’s swords, going pale as he inspected the blade. “Your Highness, look at this. Poison.” |
Arnold clicked his tongue. “Locate every laceration and bind them close to the heart. Suck the poison from the wounds.” |
He mostly got that right, at least. In the meantime, Rishe located the nearest bound bandit and pulled his dagger out of its sheath. Its wet coating gleamed in the sunlight, just as the knight had said. |
They applied the poison liberally—whatever it is must be cheap and easily bought in bulk. |
She wafted the smell toward her, bracing for something rancid, but detected nothing. Then she brought it closer to her nose. |
It smells sweet, like an overripe apple. Shea grass and…bluecap mushrooms. All the knights appear to have the same symptoms, so I won’t have to check every blade. |
Rishe stood back up and headed for the coach. |
Oliver took a step after her. “Your Highness, Lady Rishe is—” |
“Leave her. She may do as she pleases.” |