Chapter 10✨

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.

I know better than to believe wartime gossip. This Arnold Hein is a

lot different from what I'd heard he was like at nineteen. He's not as diabolical as the rumors led me to believe. He likes to push, but he isn't unkind. The thought drifted across her mind, leaving her conflicted. Well, he's not unkind now. But I still don't like not knowing his motives. And he's a bit of a jerk, to be honest.

She tried to settle her mind and just observe. Gathering intelligence

was necessary to lead a long, carefree life lazing around the palace.

If I recall correctly, that's Lord Hannawald. He seems to be on good terms with Count Gayle. Duke Hudemann and Duke Teinitz are having a friendly enough conversation, yet they don't seem close. Rishe ticked off the names of people she'd met, committing them to memory.

A wave of sweet perfume wafted over her. A pretty girl with soft blonde hair had appeared at her side. "How do you do, Lady Rishe? I'm Cornelia Thea Toona."

Duke Toona's family was the thirty-first house she'd met tonight.

Rishe smiled graciously. "Rishe Irmgard Weitzner. A pleasure to

meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine." Cornelia smiled sweetly. Her eyes were big and bright, her lips full. She held a glass in each hand and offered one to Rishe. "Wine? I see you're empty-handed."

A gaggle of other ladies nearby began giggling among themselves.

"How dare she act so haughty when she's a captive. It's time for her

learn just what she is. A pawn to be played and discarded."

"She should enjoy her time on Prince Arnold's arm while she can."

"She is from a minor nation, after all."

As Rishe took note of their whispers, Cornelia gazed at her with doe

eyes. "Does my offering offend you in some way?"

If I remember correctly, House loona holds a vast territory in

southern Galkhein.

Rishe held out a hand to accept the glass. "How could it? Thank you,

Lady Cornelia."

Before Rishe could touch the glass, Cornelia gave a dramatic shout.

"Oh dear! My hand slipped!" She dropped it, quite obviously on purpose.

Without thinking, Rishe grabbed her skirts and leaned back, plucking the glass out of the air with the other hand.

Cornelia let out a cry of surprise as Rishe caught the wine before any could spill. She swirled the glass and brought it to her nose to breathe in the bouquet.

Hmm... That's mashed capsicum. Where did she even get that? What a waste of perfectly good wine. And why bother spicing it enough to singe the tongue if she just planned to ruin my dress? Pick a plan, my dear.

Hiding her exasperation, Rishe smiled brightly. "I've never had a

wine quite like this. What an unusual scent."

Cornelia bit her lip in frustration. Rishe beamed at her. You've got

such a pretty face, Lady Toona. Why don't you smile?

Rishe leaned in close to Cornelia. "This vintage isn't available where

I'm from. I'm ever so anxious to learn more. Should I perhaps invite Prince Arnold over to enjoy a glass? Which tray did you get this from?"

"What? Oh, um..." Rishe had a policy of never backing down from a fight, but it seemed Cornelia didn't share it. "S-sorry, but I don't remember.

Such a large hall, you see."

"A shame. I'll just give His Highness this one, then. I'll be sure to let

him know who it's from."

"Uh, wait!" Cornelia rapidly shook her head. "I-I got that glass for you, so I think you should—you know what? Never mind! Maybe I should just take that-oh no!"

Rishe ignored the ashen-faced Cornelia, raising the glass and

swallowing down a gulp.

"I-I can't believe..."

"Such a spicy flavor, just as I imagined." Rishe smiled again to the assembled group's astonishment. "What a warm welcome. I do hope the two of us can spend more time together. Perhaps...a tea party?"

"Th-the two of us?" Cornelia stammered.

"Yes. I want to know all about House Toona."

Cornelia looked flabbergasted, but she recovered herself and nodded.

That should do. One of Rishe's eventual plans required a plot of land

in a temperate climate. House Toona's would likely be perfect, but she needed to confirm a few things with Cornelia. Never back down from a fight. Even further...

She recalled the words of her mentor from her days as a merchant.

Don't bother with fights you can't win.

The other ladies fled, fearful of this strange girl who gulped down

painfully spicy wine like it was nothing.

***

Rishe retreated to the empty balcony to enjoy the music, grimacing with every stinging mouthful of wine. She drank it in decreasing sips until Arnold joined her.

"What are you making that face for?"

Rishe swirled the glass. "Don't worry, it's not you. It's just this wine

is so spicy."

"Spicy? The wine is?"

"Mm. It's seasoned with capsicum. I barely managed to get that first

mouthful down without gagging."

To be continued....

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