Chapter 18: Chapter 18: Scars exposed

Rishe stepped out onto the balcony, and sipped a little wine while listening to the music playing from the hall.

She tried swirling a bit of it in her mouth and shut her eyes to the stinging spiciness.

While she was taking sips repeatedly, Arnold suddenly appeared on the empty balcony.

“…What’s with the face?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not frowning at You Highness in disgust.”

Replied Rishe while swirling her glass.

“It’s just that this wine is so spicy….”

“Spicy? The wine?”

“It’s a special recipe with chili peppers. I was able to lose weight and put up with the first sip.”

“Have those crappy people been running around harassing you?”

Arnold asked as he took the glass from Rishe’s hand.

She wouldn’t have let him do so easily if he were an opponent, in fear of being taken advantage of at the next moment. Arnold sniffed at the content and winced.

“You don’t need to drink this stuff. I’ll throw it away.”

“Oh-no-no, don’t! The wine was courtesy to me, I shouldn’t lose this opportunity to savor the taste. At least drink it with no leftovers.”

Rishe hurriedly retrieved her glass and took another sip.

However, the spiciness of the pepper is easily dissolved in the spirits. She grimaced at the tingling spiciness that runs on her tongue.

“….Speak, who are they? I’ll have their heads cut off.”

“That’s stupid. Rather than discard those people, better use them wisely.”

With the peppers in the wine, a few servings of it really was tough work. Rishe glared at the wine glass and was suddenly reminded of another matter.

“By the way, there’s one thing I do owe you an apology for.”

“Apology?”

“Actually, I’ve borrowed His Highness’ name as shield.”

“…………..”

This time around, it’s all good thanks to her threat of “conveying Arnold of your harassment.”

Using someone else’s name in a fight isn’t pretty after all. Rishe bowed her head while Arnold sighed in one breath.

“What’s wrong with a wife using her husband’s name?”

“…Erm, I’m still only your fiancee.”

“Leave it alone. It’s a done deal anyway.”

“Ah!”

The glass that Rishe was holding was taken from her again.

She thought it would be discarded this time, but to her surprise, Arnold swallowed the contents in one go.

Rishe was speechless. She lowered her head and muttered in disbelief.

“….spicy….”

“I, I told you so! Are you okay?! Water is better than liquor….!”

“I’m fine. More importantly, have I done justice to the wine rationale?”

“!”

In other words, Arnold had helped Rishe escape. Since cutting their heads off was “stupid,” then he’s letting her “do it her way.”

“Thank you.”

Arnold laughed at her awkward gratitude.

Then he suddenly asked out of the blue.

“What were you thinking about when we were dancing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were thinking about someone else, not me in front of you. Who was that person?”

Rishe was at a loss for an answer.

(I met you in another life, five years later)

“Hmm?”

It’s a strangely sweet tone of voice. In spite of this, he stared at her with the eyes of a hunter, with no intention of letting Rishe escape. Nevertheless, she can’t give a straightforward answer.

“I was worrying about His Highness’ body, not about anyone else.”

“You’re worried?”

Falsifying with a lie that was close to the truth, Rishe blurted out something she’d noticed in the middle of the dance. She indicated his left shoulder with her finger.

“Were you injured here?”

“…”

It’s, it’s really just a minor discomfort.

But it was certainly a catch.

Arnolt’s left shoulder was only slightly sluggish when compared to his right.

For example, if the right is equal to 100, the left can be 98. Since his dominant arm is his right, it’s a discrepancy that’s unnoticeable just in a normal dance.

It was the memories of her previous life that convinced Rishe of this.

It’s also because of this that Rishe was able to inflict a wound on Arnold.

Unbeknownst to Arnold at that time, she had this notion that if she were to attack him on the left, she would have had the chance to defeat him.

As it turned out, her sword skill was insignificant, because Arnold got through Rishe effortlessly.

“… Fu”

Arnold gave a dark grin. The expression on his face, which seems to be lurid, was also somehow bewitching.

Instead of answering right off, Arnold reached for his collar and snapped off the clasp with one hand.

Then he stripped his military armor gently to the side.

(Uh….)

On his exposed neckline was a large scar.

From the looks of it, it’s a scar that’s hidden by his clothes and extends to an invisible area. It’s probably years old.

“It’s an old wound. It goes all the way to the shoulder and is a bit mangled.”

“…That’s awful.”

Rishe thoughtlessly reached out and gently touched Arnold’s neckline.

Arnold could have shaken it off, but he silently accepted Rishe’s fingers.

Tracing it slowly, his scar is something that she can feel even through her gloves.

(It’s an old scar that looks like a decade old. They were stabbed with a blade… more than once. It’s like he was stabbed in the neck over and over again, intending to kill him…)

Her memories of being a pharmacist once prompted Rishe into picturing the scene. What came to mind was Arnold, who shed a tremendous amount of blood.

How did he survive such wounds? On top of that, the fact that he can still move was a miracle.

Even when the wounds were miraculously healed, he must have gone through epic suffering before he was able to handle the sword as he wanted.

“Only a few people know about this wound. Not to mention, no one ever figured it out on their own.”

“How did you get these scars?”

“…..”n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

With a dark grin, Arnold looked down at Rishe with eyes narrowed.

She couldn’t make out his expression more than usual because the moon was behind him, but he must be telling her.

(— Don’t go any further, I guess.)

When Rishe pulled her fingers back, his grin that looked a bit feral disappeared.

Arnold tidied his clothes and refastened the metal fittings around his neck.

(Arnold Hein almost died in the hands of someone nearly a decade ago. Who was it and for what?)

Rishe looked down deep in thought.

(Speaking of those who have the advantage of killing the Crown Prince, the other heirs to the throne and their allies… Arnold Hein must have a younger brother. Though, I’ve never met him yet.)

This is also a point of concern. Even though Rishe’s title as a “lucrative hostage” was in effect, it’s a wonder how often she would be able to meet the royal family.

In this regard, it may not be the will of the imperial family, but rather Arnold’s intentions. For example, tonight’s party was about to end, but he didn’t inform Rishe.

“…Your Highness, Arnold, there’s something I’d like to do.”

Rishe looked up at Arnold.

“I’d like to select my lady’s maids in a few days.”

“All right. I’ll tell Oliver to hurry up.”

“No. I would like to choose them myself, rather than bothering Oliver-sama.

His amused eyes turn to me. The disturbing grin that had been there earlier had completely disappeared, and Arnold was his usual self.

“What are you up to now?”

“Nothing important. I’m just concerned about the working conditions of the maids.”

With an empty glass in her hand, Rishe thought back of the handmaidens she met at the well.

To live a long and idle life is to survive first and foremost.

In order not to be killed at the age of twenty this time, it is probably imperative to prevent the war that Arnold Hein started. And the only thing Rishe can do to increase the chances of preventing the war is to reach out to other dignitaries with whom she has interacted in her previous lives.

There’s a lot of work to be done for her to take action at the upcoming wedding ceremony.

(Farm a field, grow medicinal herbs, do a lot of shopping, collect a lot of cheap sake, and then…)

Rishe seriously laid out a plan that seems to have nothing to do with avoiding war.