Chapter 2✨

Uh-oh. Rishe pasted on a smile as her mind spun in circles. This man was dangerous. She had to avoid entanglements with him at all costs. Five years from now, Arnold Hein would invade Hermity.

He was an extraordinarily skilled swordsman and, with a powerful military at his back, was destined to conquer kingdom after kingdom. He had done as much in her second, third, fourth, and fifth lives. In her sixth, Rishe had faced him in battle herself and died by his hand.

We never had a chance. That war was lost before it began.

Arnold's brilliance lay not in his swordplay but in his skill as a tactician. He set countries up for conquest and knocked them down, swallowing them one by one.

I know him, but he doesn't know me. We haven't met in this life. I

need an excuse fast.

Rishe curtsied slowly. "My name is Rishe Irmgard Weitzner. We've

never been introduced, but I've heard of you."

Arnold donned an amused smile. "You plant your weight like a

trained swordswoman. Your center of gravity is perfect."

"You exaggerate," Rishe demurred. "That was simply a curtsy to an

esteemed guest."

"I must have misheard, but I swear you called me 'emperor' just

now."

Rishe froze.

"My father yet lives," Arnold said. "I am simply a crown prince.

Why would you call me that?"

"Uh, um..." Rishe floundered for an answer.

She'd made such a foolish mistake. Arnold's gaze cut right through her. It felt like he'd see through any lie she told right down to her soul. She remembered this from the battlefield—how his attention alone felt like a sword thrust.

But why even bother to lie? They'd never meet again, so who cared what he thought of her? Sure, she harbored a hard feeling or two over the recent slaying, but there was no point complaining about it to this Arnold.

Calling him the emperor was boorish, but Rishe was in the process of being forcibly exiled. Why play at diplomacy?

She took a deep breath and bowed low. This was not the curtsy of a

noble lady but of a servant bowing in supplication to her master.

"My humblest apologies, Your Highness. I was in a rush. Such a rude

slip of the tongue." She raised her head. "My ex-fiancé just annulled our engagement, so I've got a lot on my mind. If you would excuse me."

"He annulled your engagement?"

At that, Rishe turned and fled.

This unexpected run-in with Arnold had taken up valuable time. She threw open the door to the balcony and hiked up her skirts, kicking off her shoes in anticipation of jumping into a tree. Looking down, she realized the ground was far closer than she'd feared.

Excellent! I can just drop into the garden!

Arnold, who up until now had been rendered speechless, shook himself out of his fugue as Rishe clambered over the railing. "Hey!"

Rishe's moonlight-silver dress flowed around her as she leapt. The

lawn was soft, but the fall was still far enough to risk injury.

Weight evenly distributed on the soles of my feet, roll to transfer the

impact to my shins and thighs, then onto my hips and my back.

She landed safely, rolled nimbly in her dress, and popped back up.

Her hair was covered in leaves.

I need to hurry up!

Bracing against a nearby rock, she used her weight to snap the heels off of her shoes. There. That would make running a little easier. Satisfied,

she slipped them back on and made haste toward the family estate.

***

Up on the balcony, Crown Prince Arnold of Galkhein watched the spectacle play out from beginning to end. He gazed at the girl with the coral hair. Her appearance was that of any young noblewoman, but she moved like a well-trained knight. She'd leapt from the balcony and landed skillfully, showing no signs of distress at her ripped dress or disheveled hair. Instead, she'd knocked the heels off her shoes and dashed away.

Also, she had called him an emperor.

Playing it all over again in his head, Arnold broke out into a rare chuckle. As his shoulders quivered with laughter, his attendant approached him from behind

"There you are, Your Highness. What are you doing out here? I'm aware you don't desire a wife, but beginning the search would be wise...

Er, Your Highness?" The attendant's eyes flew wide. His bored and scowling master was laughing. "Did something happen?"

"Oliver, ready my coach. Wait, no. That will take too much time.

Bring me a horse."

"At once, Your Highness. Might I ask why?"

Arnold didn't respond— he just grinned like a hungry wolf catching

scent of his prey.

***

Once outside the palace gates, Rishe threw herself into the waiting coach, shouting for the driver to make haste. She stopped it a few hundred yards from the manor and bid him farewell. "I'm leaving! Thanks for always being such a safe driver, Daniel!"

The road to the manor was muddy from a morning rain shower. She knew from her second life that the coach would get stuck, resulting in a loss

of valuable time. It was better to just get out and run.

"Huff, huff." Despite her last life's physical conditioning, this body

had no stamina. She'd need to try to get fitter faster this time around.

Rishe reached the end of the road, and her heart promptly sank all the

way to her feet. "Oh no."

The front door was thronged with people, all of them surrounding a

carriage bearing the royal family's coat of arms.

I need to get out of here.

While she stood frozen in indecision, one of the knights doing crowd

control shouted, "Your Highness! I have eyes on Lady Rishe!"

"Get out of my way!" A familiar voice started up a bellow. "Let me

through! Rishe, how dare you make me wait so long?"

Rishe's ex-fiancé, Crown Prince Dietrich, stepped triumphantly

forward.

"I know the thought of hearing your crimes enumerated by the man you love must pain you, but alas, as future king, it is my duty to bring down the hammer of justice upon a villainess such as yourself!"

"I see I've timed it badly," Rishe muttered. "In fact, this is my worst

loop yet. I'd rather be barred from the house than see you again."

"Hmm? What are you grumbling about?" Dietrich looked Rishe up and down. "I knew it. You put on a brave face, but I can sense the sorrow in your heart."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your heart!" the prince repeated. "Your heart! It must be absolutely

crushed! Because I called off our engagement!"

Rishe wasn't sure where he was drawing these conclusions from.

Possibly the same place he mined for all his bottomless self-confidence.

"I can tell you've been wandering aimlessly, distraught," the prince went on. "Look at you. Your dress is caked in mud, your shoes are broken, and there are cuts marring your face and arms. What other possible cause could there be than heartbreak?"

Rishe narrowed her eyes. "Do you ever stop to think about the words

coming out of your mouth?"

"What?"

His interpretation of events was fanciful to the point of absurdity. "I did not dirty my dress or snap my shoes out of heartbreak. Because I feel none. You've always been a little slow, so I'll make this clear: I do not have a single shred of fondness for you, or for our broken engagement."

"What?!" the prince said. "What are you saying?!"

The surrounding crowd began to snicker.

"Isn't that the crown prince? Did Lady Rishe just dump him?"

"Wait, but wasn't he trying to dump her?"

"Can't be! Look at her! She doesn't care at all!"

"How dare you nobodies make sport of me?" Dietrich screeched. "I

am your prince!"

Temper aside, Dietrich was a handsome man. He had azure-blue eyes and blond hair—a prince straight out of a picture book. His looks and place in the succession meant a never-ending swarm of women vying for his affections. He was brought up a pampered princeling, never wanting for anything. It manifested in a pompous manner and an overconfidence in his own abilities. Rishe had cautioned him about his attitude before, but he never paid her any mind.

I'm so glad I don't have to marry him.

She wished she could go back and tell the shocked, scared girl from her first life not to worry about her shattered engagement. Still, she might as well say it all here and now, with the assembled knights and citizens to bear witness.

"Your Highness, you exist to love and protect your people. It's

unbecoming to speak of them in this manner."

"You're the unbecoming one!" the prince snapped. "Beg me for

forgiveness!"

"I won't. Calling off our betrothal is the best course, and I applaud

Your Highness for your good sense."

Now even the knights were trembling with suppressed mirth.

Dietrich was turning red. "D-don't laugh at me!"

"Lady Rishe," came a sweet voice. "Aren't you ashamed of

yourself?"

Rishe fought down a groan.

Out of the crowd stepped a charming, dainty girl. Her big eyes moist with tears, she took her place at Dietrich's side. "I do not allow the people I care about to be treated so very ill!"

"Why, Lady Mary. You're here." Rishe sighed. "How nice."

The young Mary scowled through her tears. Hidden behind her skirts,

Dietrich continued to shout his disapproval. "Rishe! You've brought my beloved Mary to tears! She's told me everything. How you bullied her, ridiculed her. How you find it amusing to lock her in the classroom overnight! Such a wicked woman could never be queen!"

None of that's true.

Rishe glanced at Mary, who averted her gaze a little awkwardly.

"More importantly," Rishe said, "have you already brought your

concerns to my parents, Your Highness?"

"More importantly?! I did, if you must know! Your parents are

furious. They have vowed to disown you."

"Ah. Then I'm too late." Her parents held their reputation above all else. Rishe had little hope of retrieving any of her money or belongings now.

"Why are you acting so strangely?" Dietrich sniffed. "Ah, I understand. You're in such shock from this turn of events that-"

"Listen, Dietrich." In her exasperation, Rishe dropped his title. "I accept your decree. We are no longer engaged. I shall never darken your doorstep again. So...relax a little."

"Huh? What are you saying?"

"Since I was a child, I believed that my only value was in our betrothal. Being engaged to the crown prince was my whole reason for living. I was wrong about that. Only I determine my value—no one else.

To be continued...

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