Chapter 8✨

Another maid spoke up in a soft voice. "Diana, you were the one who

said we should take the initiative to wash the bigger pieces. You said the crown prince would choose us for his household!"

"Stop putting the blame on me! This isn't my fault." An indignant flush crept over the redhead's face. "There's no way some upstart can tell what time it's going to rain! The weather is going to be fantastic all day.

Come on, we're hauling these over to the wash!" The three girls meekly followed Diana.

Rishe sighed, turning to the blonde girl. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." The girl's gaze darted around nervously. "I'm Elsie.

Thank you for helping me." Her face was studiously blank, but from the way she struggled with her words, Rishe could tell she was being genuine.

"Don't worry about it," Rishe said. "Your uniform seems to have

fared less well."

"Oh no." Elsie looked down at herself. Her face remained vacant, but

she seemed sad. "And I just got it."

"You can get the dirt out if you wash it straight away. It's going to rain, but this dress should dry quickly. Use lots of soap, but don't scrub it by hand scrape the mud off with a brush."

"Why a brush?"

"Because your fingers will just grind dirt into the threads. A brush is

more porous."

The young sons of the family Rishe served spent their time tumbling

in the dirt, and she had plenty of experience scraping mud out of clothes.

She could even salvage dirty socks that had spent days crumpled in the corner.

"Do you... Are you..." Elsie trailed off, blinking rapidly a couple of

times before finally looking Rishe in the eyes. "Are you the crown princess's maid?"

Unsure how to answer, Rishe couldn't meet her eyes.

****

After parting ways with Elsie, Rishe returned to the detached wing

with her fresh water. She put clean sheets on the bed the knights had installed, satisfied that she had a comfortable place to sleep. This room also had the highest-up balcony in the whole detached palace.

Taking a break, she wandered out onto the balcony and looked off over the capital, the golden afternoon tinged with the onset of twilight. The day was fresh with a recent rain, the air clear enough to see for miles. The spring breeze felt good against her skin, sweaty from cleaning. Rishe leaned against the railing, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

She felt like collapsing into bed immediately, but she desperately needed a wash. Still, she didn't want to pull herself away from the view and the breeze just yet. When she resumed gazing out absentmindedly, something her mother once said drifted back to her.

"Rishe, there is no need for you to think for yourself." She frowned, the memories coming thick and fast now.

"You mustn't forget that the duty of our family is to live our lives fully

devoted to the kings of the land. You're smart, but all the thinking in the world won't do a woman any good. You need only concern yourself with how best to serve the crown prince.

"

"Studies? Focus on social etiquette— that's what you need for navigating high society. The crown prince's bride must be flawless. Your smile is lacking. You must always strive to appear amiable."

Rishe breathed out a long sigh. When I was fifteen, their lectures were

the only thing I thought about.

Her parents preached constantly. "A woman's true happiness is to

marry a suitable man and give birth to his heirs.

"But, Mother..."

Objection was not permitted. Any argument was immediately dispensed with. As a woman, Rishe could not inherit her father's title. Her only value was in her marriage.

Despite knowing now that the opinions of others were as worthless as

empty titles, the words still echoed in her memories.

Rishe's fingertips twitched, and she opened her eyes. Unmoving, she

said, "Shouldn't you be seeing to your duties?"

"More hidden depths, I see," came a voice tinged with pleasure.

Rishe straightened and turned. There was Arnold, leaning against the door to the balcony. "You seem able to sense my approach no matter how far or how hard I try."

"You're quite naughty, aren't you? You've been making your presence known little by little, emanating threat, to see how quickly I catch on."

"So you noticed that as well." Arnold joined Rishe on the balcony.

She tensed, but all he did was cast a curious glance at the view. "What were you looking at?"

"The city." Rishe was hardly going to tell him she'd been looking at nothing, merely ruminating on her mother's overbearing advice. The view from the balcony was spectacular, though. "What's that over there?"

"You mean the library? The state invested funds to expand it. We

have books from all over the world."

"Really? You have a library that big?" Rishe's eyes sparkled with delight. She pointed out another building. "What about that spire? It's beautiful."

"The church and clock tower. The bells ring out the hour."

"Ooh, how wonderful! And it looks like there's a rather big market

there too?"

"Yes, the largest market in the city. Carts line up in the early morning.

Most of the offerings are made fresh every day."

"Amazing! And what about that pretty mountain over there?" Rishe tried and failed to contain her excitement. She couldn't help but imagine what seeing all these places up close would be like. The grand library, the beautiful church that told the time, and the morning market with fresh, delicious food-she wanted to experience it all.

Seeing Arnold's bemused face, she said, "What?"

"I'm just wondering where all this interest is coming from," he said.

"You were so reluctant to come, yet here you are, brimming with curiosity for my city."

"Well..." she trailed off, unsure of how to respond.

What should I say? Should I just tell him the truth?

This wasn't a secret, but talking about her hopes and dreams to the man who had killed her was a little awkward. A strange self-consciousness settled on her, her cheeks heating as she mumbled, "Because I've always wanted to."

Arnold looked at her keenly. "Wanted to what?"

"I've always wanted to come here."

During her life as a merchant, Rishe developed her single dream to visit everywhere in the world. That dream was cut tragically short when only one country remained: Galkhein.

In each of her consecutive lives, Rishe's priority became staying alive. Every time, without fail, just as she found her footing, the world was plunged into chaos. She never had the chance to see Galkhein. This betrothal was her chance. "It's probably why I agreed to marry you," she added after a moment's hesitation.

Arnold swept a tepid glance over the city. "There's nothing here

worth seeing."

"That's not true! The places you just told me about sound amazing!

Your citizens are clean and happy, your knights are proper and kind. Oh, and another—"

Rishe broke off enumerating Galkhein's charms as Arnold turned to look at her. His face was impassively calm, but something seemed to pass by underneath, like a shadow in deep water.

"I'm sorry," Rishe said. "Did I say something odd?"

"I'm just amazed you could be so unaware of yourself."

Wh-what a rude thing to—

"I've never met anyone like you. No one has ever spoken to me the way you do. I don't know any girls of your class with the knowledge or the physical abilities you possess. Noblewomen don't concern themselves with such things."

Rishe, there is no need for you to think for yourself.

She frowned. "Perhaps you're right, but everything I've learned is precious to me. No one can take my skills away—I value them with my life.

Some may say that my knowledge is worthless, but it makes no difference to me." She turned from the balcony, fixing him with a piercing gaze. "I'm the one who decides what I value."

Rishe had clawed free of her mother and father's indoctrination a

long time ago. Man, woman—it didn't matter. She could do anything.

Being queen was not the culmination of her life; she wouldn't trade her freedom for anything.

Arnold matched her intensity. "You're right." He gently cupped her cheek in a one hand, swiping his thumb along the line of her jaw, smearing dust. "Live your life here however you wish. I vow to do my utmost to protect you."

"Huh?"

His vehemence took her by surprise. Arnold had every right to demand she act the part of a proper consort. This was a political marriage;

Rishe was essentially a hostage, after all. Yet here he was, cosigning her misbehavior. Moreover, he was all but swearing to defend her from the consequences.

"Why?"

"You know why. I'm enamored with you." Arnold fed her the same line. "I know you said you don't care about other people's approval, but I like your asymmetrical talents. I don't find them useless at all."

Rishe didn't know how to respond.

"I thought I'd already made that clear." He took his hand back, drawing away, stopping just on the threshold. He turned back to a stunned Rishe and said, "Let me know if there's anything you desire. I realize I just broke our agreement—the one about not touching you."

And with that, he was gone.

Shaken, Rishe sank to the floor of the balcony. I can't predict him at

all! Just what is Arnold Hein planning?

The quiet of evening fell over the imperial capital of Galkhein.

***

"Mmm."

Sunshine streamed through the window as Rishe roused from sleep.

She rolled over, basking in the morning light. The wall she expected wasn't there, and the bed seemed larger than usual. Taking advantage of it, she stretched out as far as she could.

Was this her chamber at home? Or maybe she was a merchant again,

spending a night at the desert king's palace. Perhaps this was her bed of straw from her life as a maid? Her memories met and interwove as she drifted into wakefulness.

When Rishe finally opened her eyes, she grew even more confused.

Light blue curtains surrounded the bed, thin enough to allow sunlight to pass through. She pulled them aside to find herself in a bare room devoid of furniture and carpet.

Oh, right. She didn't need to report for morning training, tend to her

herb garden, prepare breakfast, or see how the bottles she had brewed overnight were coming along.

Realizing that, Rishe buried her face in the pillow. "So soft," she

murmured.

Judging by the position of the sun, it was about six o'clock in the morning. She was pretty sure she had gone to bed around midnight last night.

I slept for six whole hours? Rishe couldn't believe it. Generally, she was used to getting about four hours of sleep. On bad days, at the height of an emergency as a knight or apothecary, she wouldn't even get that much.

I've got nothing but cleaning on the schedule today. Hostages can sleep in, right? At least a little? Excitement suffused her at the thought, but that was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Lady Rishe, are you awake? It's Oliver-Prince Arnold's attendant."

Rishe sat up with a start. "I'm awake!"

Oliver continued to speak through the door. "I apologize for

bothering you at such an early hour. I'm here with a delivery."

"Just a moment!" Rishe slipped out of the bed, dressed quickly, and tugged the bed's canopy closed. She opened the door to find Oliver standing in the hallway with a polite smile.

He apologized again. "This was the only time I could slip away from

His Highness's office. I'm glad to see that you're already dressed."

"Not at all." Rishe paused, stepping back to allow him inside. "Oh

my. You look exhausted."

Oliver grimaced. "Is it that obvious? We've been climbing through

mountains of paperwork, but never mind me. His Highness has been working around the clock."

Rishe thought back to yesterday, how he had come all the way out to the balcony. He should have used that spare time to sleep. "He's in high demand, isn't he? He was even working on the trip over."

"He finished all the work he brought along with us," Oliver confirmed. "Now he's dealing with everything that piled up during his visit to Hermity."

"Oh." Rishe grimaced in sympathy. He may have killed her in a past life, but she wouldn't wish the bureaucracy of kingship on anyone. "It's a shame he had to put his work on hold to attend a silly engagement party."

"No matter. That party was how a committed bachelor finally found a

bride."

His smile was sincere, but Rishe knew better. She spread her arms.

"Go on. Shall I spin around so you have a better view?"

Oliver blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're looking me over like I'm a horse for sale. If there's anything

I can help you with, please let me know."

To be continued....

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